St Malachy, Architect of Church Autonomy

SAINT MALACHY, ARCHITECT OF CHURCH AUTONOMY

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

Beatus servus, quem, cum venerit dominus, invenerit vigilantem: amen dico vobis, super omnia bona sua constituet eum. St Matthew 25: 46-47

NOT far from Fatima is the fortress monastery of Alcobaça, resting place of many early kings and queens of Portugal and a monument to Portugal's history as a frontier territory between Europe and the Moorish empire.  This is why so many castles appear on the Portuguese flag and arms.  Alcobaça was Cistercian and among the saints particularly venerated by the mediaeval Cistercian order was one Irishman.  His statue is to be seen in the cloister there.  That was St Malachy of Armagh (1094-1148).

St Malachy, like so many historical figure, has a posthumous reputation that represents a distortion of his career.  In the English-speaking world, his is associated with a series of epigrams concerning future popes.  Assuming the present Holy Father is De Labore Solis, we are left with Gloriae Olivitiae and Petrus Romanus prior to the Second Coming.  I plead agnosticism on both authorship and authenticity of these prophecies, but that does not subtract from either the holiness or significance of the saint.

The Church in early 11th-century Europe sank into a mire that would make the Church on the eve of the Reformation seem positively virtuous - with dubious characters such as Benedict IX occupying the Throne of St Peter.  The one beacon that blazed on Continental Europe was at Cluny and from Cluny came a reform unlike any other - unequaled even by the Counter-Reformation.

Though many saints were raised up in this movement, the pontificate of St Gregory VII (Hildebrand) left its stamp on the Church even after Catholic monarchs throughout Europe implemented these reforms - such as St Edward the Confessor in England and St Margaret in Scotland, queen of Malcolm III Canmore, who succeeded Macbeth as King of Scots.

Ireland was on the outer periphery.  Between 1002 and 1014, Brian Boru O'Kennedy usurped the High Kingship and centralised it in a way his predecessors never could have done.  By the end of the 11th century, Turlough O'Brien had instituted attempts to reform a demoralised church.  Monasteries had ceased to be the centres of learning and piety that earned Ireland the title Insula Sanctorum et Doctorum.  The descendents of the Vikings had long been Christian, but the Ostman dioceses of Dublin and later Waterford and Limerick looked to Canterbury for jurisdiction rather than to Cashel or Armagh.

Ecclesiastical jurisdiction was problematic in Ireland anyway.  St Patrick instituted the episcopacy but as there were no towns in Ireland before the Viking raids, no diocesan structure evolved.  The monasteries became the centre of ecclesiastical, commercial and even political life.  Monasteries linked by a common founder grouped together into federations called paruchiae to advance a common cause.  So the Columban paruchia, centred first in Iona and later at Kells, represented the interests of its founder St Colmcille (or Columba).  It sought an ecclesiastical primacy consistent with the political primacy of its patrons: the house of O'Neill.  The monastery of Armagh and its paruchia represented the interest of St Patrick, who was clearly venerated as the Apostle of the Irish, but until Armagh was universally accepted as the primatial see, not universally recognised as patron saint.

The Comarba Pátraic (successor of St Patrick) claimed primacy but was not acknowledged as such.  The would-be primate was only definitively an abbot of the monastery in Armagh, was not necessarily a bishop and from time to time may not have been a cleric in major orders.  Many of these officials were lay beneficiaries who were lesser nobility - theoretically in minor orders but essentially living a secular life serving the interests of their families or their superiors in the social order.

Other reforms were needed.  Lanfranc of Canterbury, who claimed Ireland was within his jurisdiction, wrote to Turlough O'Brien on the matter - on one occasion complaining the Irish had a law of fornication rather than of marriage.  The shortcomings in the Irish church delineated by Lanfranc were far from unique to Ireland, and the pace of reform was slow.  In Ireland, as elsewhere, it would take a very powerful personality to implement the Hildebrandine reforms.

There certainly was a mood in favour of reform among some political and religious leaders.  Some were aware of the claims of Canterbury and York.  Some were appalled at the prevailing state of the church within Ireland.  No one could question the high king's commitment to reform, but it would take a supernatural effort to bring order to an unruly Irish Church.

In 1096, St Anselm of Canterbury consecrated Malchus O'Hanvery as the first bishop of Waterford.  During a pilgrimage to Rome, Turlough O'Brien's son Murtagh realised how isolated Ireland had become from the Church and civil society on the continent.  In 1098, he invited the reform-minded Meath bishop, Maelmhuire O'Doonan to become Bishop of Killaloe.  O'Doonan was subsequently appointed Legate to Munster by Pope Paschal II.

Murtagh and O'Doonan together set an agenda for reform in the First Synod of Cashel in 1101 and were later joined by the scholarly Gilbert (previously a monk in Rouen) who became Bishop of Limerick at about the same time as Murtagh made Limerick his capital.
Celsus of Armagh
The drive for reform had its base in the south of Ireland and might have remained there had not an educated layman named Celsus become Successor of St Patrick in 1105 following the death of his great-uncle.  Celsus was a member of the Clann Sinaich, who monopolised the abbacy of Armagh for several generations.  When he succeeded his great-uncle, he was already zealous for reform.  One of his first acts was to receive ordination to the priesthood.  As there was a bishop in Armagh at the time, he waited until his death in 1106 to receive episcopal consecration.

The articulate Gilbert of Limerick outlined the plan for reform not only of the Church, but secular society as well, in De Statu Ecclesiae ("On the State of the Church") while Celsus made circuits of all the provinces in his capacity of successor of St Patrick.  In 1111, Gilbert presided as Papal Legate over the Synod of Rathbrasil (Co Tipperary) where the Irish hierarchy proposed an ecclesiastical map of 26 dioceses.  Though there have been a number of variations in the interim, the number of sees in Ireland remains at 26.
The rise of Malachy
Over the next decade and a half, the pace of reform slowed down and might have come to an end, had not Celsus picked out a gifted protegé.  Mael Maedog O'Morgair was a young man, born in Armagh in 1094.  His father was a teacher and his mother was from a family that had a claim over the abbacy of Bangor similar to that which Celsus' family had over Armagh - her brother, a layman, became successor of St Comgall and Abbot of Bangor.  Mael Meadog felt called to the monastic life from an early age, but in spite of many attempts, it was a vocation he would never realise.  Celsus saw in this young man a reformer like no other.  Mael Maedog became known to history as St Malachy of Armagh.

In 1119, Celsus ordained Malachy to the priesthood and sent him to the monastery of Lismore to study under Malchus O'Hanvery, the Bishop of Waterford, who was previously a monk of Winchester.  In 1124, Celsus recalled Malachy north to set him in the position of Successor of St Comgall, Abbot of Bangor and Bishop of Down.  During the following years, Malachy would introduce the rule of the Augustinian Canons and the Savignac Benedictines into his diocese.  In 1127, he was expelled from Bangor following political upheaval and he brought his monks into exile in Lismore.

In 1129, Celsus died leaving clear instructions that Malachy should succeed him as Successor of St Patrick and Primate.  Clann Sinaich were not going to surrender without a fight and nominated Murtagh to succeed.  Malachy refused to challenge Murtach until he had the backing of Ireland's secular and religious leaders.  Murtagh retained the revenues until his death in 1134, though Malachy was recognised as Primate.  When Clann Sinaich nominated Celsus' brother Niall in 1134, it was clear no one in Ireland was prepared to listen - so the Clann Sinaich pretensions came to an end in 1139.

When Malachy was satisfied the independence of the primacy was secured, he resigned the See of Armagh in favour of Gelasius, the Abbot of Derry and head of the Columban paruchia.  This was a deft political move, as Gelasius was uncompromised politically yet was dedicated to reform.

Malachy went back to Down as bishop.  He thought this was the end of his active life and he could retire to the cloister.  But first, the bishops of Ireland asked him to go to Rome to present their petition to Pope Innocent II to grant pallia to Armagh and Cashel, setting them up as metropolitan sees and guaranteeing the independence of the Irish Church.  Malachy undertook the task.

On his way, he visited Clairvaux where he made friends with St Bernard of Clairvaux.  St Bernard was the most influential churchman of his day and also became the biographer of St Malachy.  Malachy was thoroughly impressed with the Cistercian life and he petitioned Pope Innocent to be released from his obligations as a bishop in order to enter the Cistercian monastery at Clairvaux.  The Pope was not without sympathy but recognised St Malachy's calling was to reform the Irish Church.  The pallia were not to be granted to Cashel and Armagh just yet - and Malachy was ordered to return to Ireland.

The cause of reform prospered.  Malachy established the Cistercian Order in Ireland with monks from Clairvaux, and it spread rapidly.  There were some problems between Irish and French monks, but that did not lesson the Cistercian influence in Ireland.  He also introduced the Arroasian congregation of the Augustinian Canons Regular to Ireland, judging them to be particularly suited to Irish conditions.  The Canons Regular of St Augustine would eventually become the biggest order in pre-Reformation Ireland, but were never re-established after penal times.  St Malachy's legacy is still seen in the Cistercian houses in Ireland.
Wine into water
Though the main influence on the Irish Church form abroad was French, there are German influences to be seen to.  The Schottenklöster (Irish monasteries in Europe - in the early middle ages the Latin Scotus or the German Schotte designated an Irishman) had adopted the Benedictine rule at the time of Charlemagne.  In the mid 12th century, the king of Munster's cousin was the Abbot of the Irish monastery at Regensburg, so Irish Benedictines from Germany came to establish houses in Ireland.

At this time an unknown but rather interesting Irish Benedictine was Abbot of the Irish monastery at Würzburg.  St Macarius (died 1153) was so ascetic that he is said to have changed wine into water.  But the more ascetic discipline of the French Cistercians made a greater impact on Ireland that did the German Benedictines.

In 1148, St Malachy, armed with the authority of Papal Legate, summoned a synod of the Irish church to Inis Pádraig, Co Dublin.  At the time, Blessed Eugenius III was pope and had began his pontificate with two years in exile.  As he was a Cistercian, he asked St Bernard for advice on what he should do.  Bernard told him to model his life on the Irishman, Malachy of Armagh.

Malachy set out on another trip to Rome to petition Eugenius for the pallia.  This time he was not to return.  He died in Clairvaux on the way on the night of November 1-2, attended by St Bernard.  Very soon after St Malachy's death, St Bernard regarded him as a saint.  He was canonised by Pope Clement III in 1190.  His feast day is 3 November.

Though St Malachy never reached Rome, the petition did.  And in 1152, Blessed Eugenius III sent John Cardinal Paparo as Papal Legate to Ireland.  Cardinal Paparo convened the bishops of Ireland at a synod in Kells  where he unveiled the Pope's plans for the Irish Church.

Blessed Eugenius did not grant the two pallia as requested.  Instead he sent four - also recognising Dublin and Tuam as metropolitan sees.  In this way, the pope showed a profound understanding of the political and regional divisions in Ireland.  He also guaranteed the independence of the Irish church and recognised the strides made in its reform over half a century.  The pallia are the legacy of St Malachy of Armagh.

Not long after this triumph, St Bernard died.  He was buried with St Malachy under the high altar at Clairvaux as he requested.  The relics of the two saints are still together and according to some traditions cannot be separated.  They are in death as they willed to be in life.

St Malachy may or may not be the author of the prophecies I referred to at the beginning of this article.  It doesn't matter.  The vocation of St Malachy of Armagh represents the transition of Ireland from being an isolated Church with many distinctive characteristics into one which was definitively part of the Western Church.  The drive for this reform came not from without but from within.  The native Irish monastic rules were eclipsed, but that was an unintended effect of the reform.  Nobody foresaw how readily and completely Irish vocations would drift toward the Cistercians, Augustinian Canons and other continental orders.  Nor did this reform destroy the autonomy of the Irish church - on the contrary, obtaining the pallia from Rome in the manner achieved ensured that the Irish Church would be autonomous.  Had it been otherwise, the Archbishops of Canterbury would have gladly instituted a reform of the Irish Church to their own liking.

The saint's lasting memorial is not in imprecise predictions but in securing the independence of the Irish church and guaranteeing its reform by native Irish ecclesiasticsw.  That Church survived the upheaval of the next few centuries, the Reformation and Penal Laws, onl to be seriously threatened in our own day.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 75, November-December 2004

St Lorcan the Peacemaker

SAINT LORCAN THE PEACEMAKER

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

Beati pacifici: quoniam filii Dei vocabuntur - St Matthew, 5:9

A Muire as mor in gním ado ringed in hErend indiu.(Mary, terrible is the deed done in Ireland this day) - A Leinster scribe lamenting the banishment of Diarmait Mac Murchada in 1166)

WE often judge past in the light of subsequent events.  For example, there is a tendency to see the First World War through the prism of the Second.  Notwithstanding nasty Prussian militarism, the Central Powers were not comparable with the Axis Powers a generation later.  The former's defeat was no great triumph for the West - it rather set Europe up for something much worse.

Likewise, we should not look at Brian Boróma through post-Norman invasion spectacles (pardon the anachronism).  A disgruntled, dispossessed Gaelic noble gave his version of events in Cogadh Gaedel re Gallda.  The central thesis was that the Ua Conchobair dynasty was as incompetent against the Norman as the Uí Néill were against the Viking - but Brian Boróma was the Irish military exemplare and ideal king.

The truth was different.  The Vikings were long defeated and baptised prior to Clontarf, in which more of them were allied to Brian's real enemy, Máel Mórda, than to Brian himself.  Contemporary Irish aristocrats regarded Brian as a parvenu of inferior ancestry (the monks of Cashel could even point at two pedigrees - one was obviously flawed).  And Clontarf was a Phyrric victory - it resulted in several generations of internecine warfare preparing the country for the Norman invasion.

For all that, Brian was ruthless and able, and if he allowed his admiration for Charlemagne carry him away (signing the Book of Armagh as Imperator Scottorum), it was his vision of a centralised Irish kingdom which dominated Irish political thought ever since.

Clontarf devastated Leinster.  A ruler with the unlikely moniker of Diarmait mac Máel na mBó attained the kingship of Leinster in 1042 and claimed the high kingship a generation after Brian.  His sept, the Uí Cennsalaig, would dominate Leinster politics in the following centuries (though they hadn't provided a king for several centuries previously).  Many lines vied for the high kingship and the country was beset by intermittent civil war and anarchy.

The former Viking towns looked to Canterbury for spiritual guidance, and Gaelic churchmen recognised Lanfranc and St Anselm's designs on Ireland.  They delivered the reform of the Irish church during the ceasefires.

Blessed Eugenius III approved the Irish Church's reforms by granting the requested pallia to Armagh and Cashel and granting additional pallia to Dublin and Tuam on his own initiative.  Thus he guarranteed the independence of the Irish Church in 1152.  Eugenius was a Cistercian and saw that the reform was Cistercian-driven.  His mentor, St Bernard of Clairvaux, was very close to St Malachy of Armagh.  The black monks and white monks were engaged in a power struggle at the time and Eugenius was succeed by an English Benedictine, Adrian IV.

Young Henry II wanted to conquer Ireland and sent John of Salisbury to get Adrian's approbation.  In 1155, Adrian saw the Irish Church differently to his predecessor (there were few Benedictines in Ireland), so he commissioned Henry to bring Christianity to Ireland in Laudabiliter.  The Empress Mathilda was still alive and had no desire to see her son engage in wasteful adventures.  So Henry neglected his charge for another decade and a half.

Twelfth-century Ireland was dominated by the career of Diarmait MacMurchada.  He became king of Leinster in 1126.  Unable to compete for the high kingship like his great-grandfather, he could and did make it difficult for others.  The year he took the throne, Lorcan Ua Tuathail (Laurence O'Toole) was born in Wicklow.  Until the advent of Diarmait mac Máel na mBó, the Ua Tuathail were a more prestigious family than MacMurchada.  Lorcan's mother was an Ua Brain princess of Uí Faeláin, from North Leinster's second family (Wicklow and Kildare were in north Leinster at the time).  In the Gaelic custom, Lorcan was sent to the Ua Conchobair of Uí Fáilge for foseterage, which aligned him to a third powerful house in Leinster, as befitted a young prince.  All was well until Leinster nobles intrigued against the king in 1141.  Diarmait killed or blinded 17 of the conspirators in anticipatory retaliation.  Muirchertach Ua Tuathail became head of the Uí Muireadaig and his only daughter was married to Diarmait.  As a safeguard against further plots, Diarmait dragged Lorcan with other Leinster princes to Ferns as hostages.
A clear insult
The old Gaelic order was very strict on the treatment of hostages, but Diarmait did not comply.  He sent Lorcan to an inferior household, a clear insult to his wife's family.  Muirchertach seized a few of Diarmait's key officers and threatened to kill them if his son was not released.  Diarmait placed the boy in the custody of the Abbot of Glendalough until Muirchertach let his men go.  Lorcan was tired of politics now and wanted to remain in Glendalough as a monk.  An ironic beginning to a vocation that would place him at the epicentre of a political crisis which would have permanent repercussions in Ireland.

There were doubts about Lorcan in Glendalough.  His education was martial rather than literary.  And there was discontent when his father nominated him as abbot in 1153 (which was in Muirchertach's gift).  Lorcan had already been ordained to the priesthood when younger than the canonical age of 30.  However, it is a tribute to Lorcan that he was the near unanimous choice as Bishop of Glendalough when Gilla na Náemh died in 1157.  He refused on the grounds he was too young.

In 1161, he became Archbishop of Dublin.  There had been eight Bishops of Dublin before his immediate predecessor Gréne (Gregory) got the pallium in 1152.  These were all Ostmen (as the descendents of the Vikings were called) with no love for the Gaelic Irish and until the Synod of Kells, they looked to Canterbury rather than Armagh.  Lorcan's brother-in-law, Diarmait, was overlord of Dublin and he had a hand in the election.  The Primate, Gilla mac Liag MacRuaidri, consecrated Lorcan.

The Dublin Ostmen were not enthusiastic about the appointment.  Christ Church Cathedral was Lorcan's first priority.  He introduced the observantine Arrouasian Congregation of Augustinian Canons into the cathedral and as far as his administrative duties allowed, he took an active part in Christ Church's liturgical life (wearing the Arrouasian habit) and he was known for his prayer, penance and almsdeeds.

The best known Irish twelfth century scandal was Diarmait's abduction of Derbforgall, Tigernan Ua Ruairc's wife in 1152.  Commentators suggest Derbforgall had a role in this, but the king of Breffny became Diarmait's sworn enemy for the insult - even after Derbforgall was returned with her fortune.  The other party to the insult was Mór, Lorcan's sister, who withdrew to a convent in Dublin.  This event would have a disproportionate bearing on subsequent Irish history.

Things came to a head in 1166 when the kings of Ireland combined under Ruaidrí Ua Conchobair to expel Diarmait from Ireland.  They accomplished this and Ua Ruairc drew sinful pleasure form plundering Diarmait's castle in Ferns.

It was a short-lived victory.  Diarmait spent the next year seeking Norman aid.  Though Henry II was too occupied to give him immediate help, he did see the request as a golden opportunity (to rid himself of troublesome vassals).  Diarmait still had a problem persuading the Norman Earls on the Welsh Marches to join him, but they did come, to stay.  Initially Diarmait recovered his own territory.  Then he attempted to take Leinster.  The high king successfully thwarted him, but the worst was yet to come.

Strongbow's advance party camped at Baginbun in 1169.  They were reinforced by the main force and took Waterford, after which Strongbow married Diarmait's daughter (Lorcan's niece) Aífe.  Strongbow turned on Dublin.  The Ostman king, Asgall MacTorchaill's fleet controlled the Irish Sea.  A formidable Irish hosting protected Dublin, but Diarmait and Strongbow avoided them, and when Dublin sought terms, Ruaidrí withdrew.  Lorcan now had to intercede with his in-laws on behalf of his flock as Dublin's finest went with Asgall and the navy (and their valuables) to the Isle of Man.  When Asgall returned with reinforcements, Norman luck again prevailed and Asgall, defiant to the end, was beheaded in the hall of his own palace.  A Manx naval squadron blockaded Dublin for two months and Strongbow got into deeper trouble as Diarmait died, but now Henry arrived in Ireland.
Parallel with Becket?
Henry was an unlikely crusader.  He had been excommunicated for his role in St Thomas Beckett's murder, as England faced an interdict - and he came to Ireland to restore Christianity!  His obsequiousness to the Papal Legate, Christian O Conarchy was in marked contrast to his refusal to admit legates to England at the time.  Henry's main motivation in Ireland  was not its conquest, for religious or secular reasons, but the containment of his own Anglo-Norman subjects.  He didn't want an independent Norman kingdom to his west.  He attended the Second Synod of Cashel in the winter of 1171-1172 to convince the Pope of his fidelity.  The Irish bishops were prepared to accept Henry's lordship if he would bring an end to Ireland's protracted political instability.

Though the Normans were as politically divided as the native Irish, they had a clear military superiority and only mutual rivalry and apathy (the former encouraged by Henry) prevented them from overrunning the whole island.  In 1175, Lorcan was the chief negotiator of the Treaty of Windsor between Henry and Ruaidrí.  As the treaty was not honoured, we can only deduce that Lorcan was more interested in securing a peaceful political settlement for Ireland than in rival political claims.  During the negotiation, an assailant attempted to fell Lorcan with an axe as he said Mass.  Noting the similarities between this and Beckett's martyrdom, most contemporaries cast a suspicious eye on Henry.

After Windsor, Lorcan had another test.  St Malachy of Armagh had achieved autonomy for the Irish Church a generation earlier.  It was now for Lorcan to defend it.  Alexander III broadly endorsed the Norman invasion of Ireland, in spite of his distrust of Henry.  He now angered Henry by naming Lorcan as Papal Legate in Ireland in 1179.  Lorcan had a high standing in the universal church and he participated in the Second Lateran Council that year.

As Papal Legate, Lorcan was concerned that the 12th Century reform should not be undone, as signs indicated it would be.  The role of the Norman in this process was interesting.  If the Bull Laudabiliter commissioned Henry to reform the Irish Church, Lorcan must have sensed some irony.  In slightly more than one year in office, he reported over a hundred Norman clerics holding Irish benefices to Roman ecclesiastic tribunals for sundry offences.

One would suspect that Lorcan would no longer be the best candidate to negotiate with Henry.  But this is exactly what Ruaidrí asked him to do in 1180.  Lorcan undertook to do so, to find that Henry refused to see him and left England for France.  Lorcan followed him to Normandy where he fell ill and died in the Abbey of Eu on the night of November 14.  The Augustinian Canons were convinced of his sanctity and investigated his life; one canon wrote his biography.  The cause for his canonisation is regarded as the first modern ecclesiastical legal process in history.  It received overwhelming support from old adversaries - the Ostmen of Dublin, once opposed to his appointment as archbishop, now wholeheartedly endorsed his sanctity.  Even the Normans attested to the prelate's virtue.  In 1225, he was canonised by Pope Honorius II and his feast is on November 14.  His body lies in Eu, but his heart is in his own cathedral - Christ Church.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 76, January-February 2005

Flawed Pedigree or Irish Charlemagne: The Legacy of Brian Boru

FLAWED PEDIGREE OR IRISH CHARLEMAGNE: THE LEGACY OF BRIAN BORU
By PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

FROM ST PATRICK’S TIME TO the turn of the Millennium, Ireland was dominated by the Uí Néill dynasty. With their power-base in Meath and in Tyrone and Donegal, they effectively dominated the northern half of Ireland for centuries. Their only rivals on the island were based in Cashel. These were the Eóganacht of Munster. A couple of times in the centuries, the Eóganacht would manage to field a champion to rival the Uí Néill, but it did not happen very often. In the early ninth century, this was achieved by Feidlimid mac Crimthainn. Not only was Feidlimid King of Munster; he was also Bishop of Cashel; and he was a monk of the reforming Céle Dé (Slave of God) rule which had its origins in Tallaght in the 800s. Feidlimid was well able to use the secular arm to extend monastic reform. If an abbot proved obstinate, Feidlimid would carry out a raid leading contemporaries to observe that he burned more monasteries than any Norse chief. The presence of Feidlimid in various venues outside Munster at the head of an army was hardly unusual, as he attempted to wrest hegemony from the Uí Néill and almost succeeded. He died in 846.

A century and a half later would bring a more successful challenger from Munster onto a national stage which hardly existed before. One of the sub-kingdoms the Eóganacht maintained were the Déisi in what is now Waterford. Some of these made conquests in East Clare and adopted the moniker the Dál Cais. In 934, Cennétig mac Lorcáin became King of the Dál Cais. The Dál Cais were in the ascendent as their Eóganacht overlords declined. This brought some risk as four of Cennétig’s sons were killed in raids on the Dál Cais from both the Eóganacht and the Uí Néill prior to his own death in 951. But when he died, he was described as king of Thomond. His son Lachtna reigned until he was killed in 953 when he was succeeded by his brother Mathgamain.
Resentful Rivals
Mathgamain mac Cennétig was an extremely able ruler and was aware the kingship of Munster was in his grasp as only one branch of the Eóganachta could rival him. In 964, he occupied Cashel which seriously staked his claim. At this stage, he had allies as far afield as Waterford. Limerick proved a cockpit in the struggle for dominance of Munster and its Norse ruler Ivar was frequently driven out. In 974, Mathgamain was acting as King of Munster, but he had a number of resentful opponents. In 976, he was captured and put to death by his Eóganacht enemy Máel Muad and his allies. He was suceeded by his brother Brian Boruma, known to history as Brian Boru.

Brian’s first target on assuming the kingship of the Dál Cais was the coalition who had killed his brother. The Norse king of Limerick, Ivar was first. Brian killed him with two of his sons in the sanctuary of Inis Scataig (Scattery Island) in 977. Following this, he attacked the Uí Fidgente, an Eóganacht ally based in Co Limerick. In 978, he defeated Máel Muad, killed him and took hostages. At this stage, he consolidated his position in Munster. It would be a mistake to think Brian came from nowhere after his brother’s death. For many years he had been a leading political and martial figure within the Dál Cais and many of the tactics he employed were learned from experience. Brian’s biographer cast him in the light of Alfred the Great of England, fighting Norse here, there and everywhere as a young man. This is unlikely, but there was never any shortage of Norse mercenaries in the forces Brian found himself opposing.
Norse impact
The Norse had made an impact on Ireland in the late tenth century. They were now substantially Christianised and their ports were the centre of trade routes. They minted the first Irish coinage. Irish words for commerce and seafaring are largely derived from Scandinavian languages. Some Irish names betray Viking origin: most people are aware that as Lochlann is the Irish for Scandanavia, O’Loughlin and McLoughlin indicate descent from the Norse or Danes. Less obviously, Doyle is derived from Ua Dubhghaill or “dark foreigner”, as the brown-haired Danes were known (the Norse with the “fionn gall”, the blond foreigner). It is no coincidence that Doyle is most common in Dublin. But consider the name Higgins. In Irish, this is Ó hUiginn. When dealing with a language with neither “v” nor “k” and a people who still turn “ing” into “in’”, it becomes clear that Uiginn disguises the word viking. There are many more. If one were to question the depth of the Christianity of the Irish Norse in Dublin, Limerick and Waterford, one might ask the same question about the rest of Ireland or indeed the bulk of Christian Europe. The absorption of the Gospel was a very slow process. Slavery, plurality of wives among the nobility, and other horrors endured a long time. Pre-feudal western Europe was a warrior society barely aspiring to the civilisation of Byzantium. But the Norse left their mark on Ireland. Even without Norse troops, Norse armour and weaponry were adopted. Brian Boru was quite adept at using a naval arm in a lot of his campaigns, often attacking his enemies by land and sea simultaneously. He learned this from the Vikings.

In 982, Brian moved against the Osraige. This corresponds with the present-day Ossory diocese and if considered part of Leinster now, it was in the Munster sphere of influence in the first millennium. As Leinster emerged as a power in its own right late in this era, the buffer kingdom of Osraige wavered between Munster and Leinster. Brian sought to subordinate it to Munster with success that was clear enough to create conflict with the King of Tara, Máel Sechnaill II. The Uí Néill king invaded Clare, but this was no deterrant to Brian who sent a fleet up the Shannon the following year to attack Connaught. He then allied with the Norse of Waterford to attack Dublin and Leinster. Once again, Brian employed a coordinated amphibious attack against his enemies.  This time he invaded Meath in a direct challenge to Máel Sechnaill.

If Brian was going to challenge to the Uí Néill king, he would have to ensure his own position in Munster and in the late 980s, he did just that. He defeated his Déisi kinsmen and took hostages from Lismore, Emly and Cork. Once again, he sailed up the Shannon, attacking Meath and Connaught, though the detachment in Connaught was defeated. Máel Sechnaill invaded Munster, but in 997 he recognised Brian’s dominance over the southern half of Ireland.  At this stage, Leinster was conceded to the Munster sphere of influence. Leinster rebelled, but Máel Morda was captured and the Hiberno-Norse king of Dublin, Sitric was exiled. Both were forced to submit to Brian who was now challenging the King of Tara. Máel Sechnaill found a way to counter one of Brian’s favourite tactics: allying with Connaught, he bridged the Shannon making navigation difficult. But the following year, Brian defeated Meath and Connaught.
Emperor of the Irish
In 1005, Brian moved against Ulster. It should be remembered that Brian was a politician as well as a soldier and would take a diplomatic solution where possible. Leaving a donation of twenty ounces of gold in Armagh and recognising the Church of Armagh as the primatial see was an example of this. Brian was probably illiterate; most kings were. So his secretary signed the Book of Armagh for him. Brian was Imperator Scotorum, literally “Emperor of the Scots”, but the Latin Scotus is more accurately translated as “Gael”, and the Gael of Dál Riada had yet to give their name to Scotland, so the title is understood as Emperor of the Irish. Brian thus disclosed his admiration for Charlemagne (and his brass neck). The Church in Armagh were not indifferent to his endeavours as a more centralised kingdom along the lines of the Carolignian empire or Anglo-Saxon England was a logic that appealed to them. The administrative framework of centralisation would make things easier for the Church. The person of Brian Boru was another matter. The monks at Cashel very obligingly furnished him with a noble lineage going back to the legendary Eógain Mór who founded the Eóganachta.  Of course, the abbot of Cashel was himself an Eóganacht with strong feelings about a Dál Cais parvenu masquerading as something he was not, so he retained Brian’s authentic genealogy. Which goes to show that the politics of a flawed pedigree has a long history.

One after the other, Brian subdued the three Ulster kingdoms of the Ulaid, the Cenél Eógain and in 1011, the Cenél Conaill. At this stage, he was the undisputed High King, or in his own words, Emperor, of the Irish. One might ask what this meant. He certainly was not the effective ruler of Ireland. But he did, as an outsider, manage to gain what the Uí Néill dynasts claimed in principle for centuries, but never put into practice. He created the concept of the kingship of Ireland and showed how this could be gained and maintained. He was not an heroic figure, least of all for royalist legitimists among us. He was able, ruthless, cunning, ambitious and he thought strategically.  He exploited the divisions of his enemies. He understood the politics of the Irish Church and used it to his advantage: Armagh appreciated this was in its own interest. His horizons were much wider than the island of Ireland, as seen in the policies he employed. It is inevitable that a man like Brian will raise resentment, and this came from Leinster and Dublin in 1013. Sitric sought reinforcements from Man and the Isles and Brian assembled a coalition to counter them. Initially Brian had the numeric advantage, but a disagreement with Máel Sechnall evened the sides. They met at Clontarf on 23 April 1014, which was Good Friday that year. Irishmen and Norse fought on both sides. The main protagonists were all dead at the end of the day and Brian’s dream of a centralised Irish monarchy survived only as an idea thereafter, itself leading to more wars through the eleventh and twelfth centuries. But the possibility of an effective national kingdom died at Clontarf.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 131, March-April 2014

Clontarf: A Backward Glance

CLONTARF: A BACKWARD GLANCE
By DR NIALL BRADY

THE YEAR OF 2014 a year of anniversaries. Most notably, it is the centenary of the outbreak of the Great War, and of the death of that holy pope, St Pius X (of blessed memory). In the Irish context, it is the centenary of the Government of Ireland Act, and of the Howth gun-running incident involving the yacht Asgard. Further back in time, this year also sees the millennial anniversary of the death of Brian mac Cennétig, king of the Munster sept of Dál Cais, who in the course of a lengthy and illustrious political career, had succeeded in imposing his authority not only on the rest of Munster but on the rest of Ireland also, and who is known to history as Brian Boru.

It is fair to say that, insofar as he is remembered at all, Brian and his achievements are viewed much more sympathetically by Irishmen of the present time than they were by his contemporaries. The popular imagination of the past century and a half remembers Brian as something of a national hero, as an Irish patriot who, at the cost of his life, stood up to a despotic foreign tyranny in the course of which he instilled courage and national pride in the Irishmen of his day. This is a comforting and enduring myth, and it appealed especially to nationalist writers in the decades around the turn of the twentieth century; but it is nonetheless a myth, and while it owes a great deal to the nationalist aspirations of the Irish literary and academic elite of a hundred years ago, its origin is to be traced to the year 1867, in which a Trinity scholar, Dr James Henthorne Todd, published the first modern edition and translation of a previously little known Irish prose saga. This saga is entitled Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh, or “The War of the Irish with the Foreigners”, and its hero is Brian Boru.

We must keep in mind that, in the 1860s, very little of the primary source material for Early Irish history had been made available in print. The great editions of the various Irish annals by Hennessy and MacCarthy, which have nourished the researches of scholars for over a century, did not then exist; and O’Donovan’s editions of the Four Masters and the Three Fragments had only been printed a few years previously. The exciting narrative of Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh, in contrast with the generally dry and terse style of the annals, fired the imaginations of many, and its presentation of the life and career of Brian Boru and of the Battle of Clontarf were received uncritically not only by Irish researchers interested in Irish-Norse relations but by their Scandinavian colleagues also. Consequently, the narrative of the Cogadh dominated historical approaches to the significance of the Battle of Clontarf until in the 1960s a new generation of scholars began to study the text with a more critical eye—whereat the traditionally-accepted nationalist view began to crumble, and with it the pedestal upon which Brian had stood for the previous century.
More or less forgotten
We must also bear in mind that, with the exception of the Cogadh itself, Brian was most emphatically not a heroic figure of saga and poetry at any time between 1014 and 1867, but had been more or less forgotten; he certainly never achieved the fame of legendary literary figures such as Finn mac Cumhaill or Cú Chulainn.

I do not mean that the Cogadh routinely presents as fact details that are demonstrably fictitious, or factually
wrong; but the effect of the author’s profound bias is to lend a colour and significance to Brian’s status and the encounter at Clontarf that would not have been recognised by anyone actually alive in the Ireland of 1014. Todd believed the Cogadh was written by a contemporary and eyewitness of the Battle of Clontarf; in particular, he identified Mac Liaig, Brian’s court poet, as the likely author. Todd’s view held the field for a considerable time, but it was later realised that the text of the Cogadh is not contemporary with Clontarf at all and belongs instead to the twelfth century. Current consensus attributes the composition of the text to the time of Brian’s greatgrandson, Muirchertach Ua Briain (ob. 1119), and in particular to the years between 1103 and 1113. As to the reasons underlying its composition, this much at least is clear: the text was intended to portray Brian as a brave and selfless freedom-fighter who had saved Ireland from being crushed under the remorseless heel of the heathen Norse, and that in order to bolster the political standing of the Uí Briain dynasty in twelfth-century Ireland and their claims to the kingship exercised over the country by their ancestor.

I encourage readers who are interested in this period of Irish history to read the Cogadh for themselves.  It is almost impossible to find in print, unless one enjoys the privilege of access to a university library, but thanks to the internet it is widely available in digital form. Although written in the prolix and somewhat bombastic style popular in the twelfth century and unashamedly political, it is a great read and thoroughly enjoyable, at least to those who have some familiarity with Early Irish literature. It takes itself so seriously it is often unintentionally hilarious; the reader should take note of the contrasting manner in which Brian, his family and his enemies are presented; the language employed to describe the deeds of each and, not least, the manner in which “the foreigners” (i.e. the Norse) and their acts are presented.  These last are so exaggerated and over the top that the Cogadh has given me many a laugh in the course of my studies. The hyperbole and overblown style will both amuse and bemuse a modern readership; the similes and metaphors are all eminently memorable. I will not take up space here offering particularly ripe quotes from the text, although of course I have my favourites; I simply recommend my readers read it for themselves for, despite its flaws, it is a unique product of Ireland’s literary heritage and ought to be better known.
Cruel and heartless
It is perhaps a satisfying incidence of poetic justice that Brian Boru never made it into the literary big-time alongside the likes of Cú Chulainn; for if the latter is an embodiment of the Iron Age/Celtic/Indo-European ideal of the hero, the former is (at least to my mind) more an anti-hero, even an embodiment of the very tyranny the author of the Cogadh so deplores in his depictions of the Norse. The Cogadh presents us with a relentless onslaught of cruel, heartless, heathen barbarians from overseas (fresh in the memories of the twelfth-century Irish as the English were fresh in the memories of Irish nationalists nine centuries later) from whom Ireland needed saving if her civilisation and culture were not to be smashed down and destroyed, and her people enslaved. History, however, shows us that at the turn of the eleventh century, Ireland was not at all in danger of being conquered and utterly dominated by the Norse, either from abroad or those already settled in the country for several generations. Ireland was, however, in danger of being conquered and utterly dominated by Brian himself, and it is this danger—not that of the Norse—that led to the Battle of Clontarf in 1014.

I pass over Brian’s early career, how he (and his brother Mathgamain before him) elevated Dál Cais from obscurity to power over of the whole province of Munster, and how he began to expand his power over the other provinces of Ireland. For a consideration of Clontarf it suffices to note that in the early eleventh century Brian is at the apex of his power; that he has clashed with, and subdued, Mael Morda king of Leinster, and Sitric king of Dublin; that he has wrested the kingship of Tara from Mael Sechnaill mac Domnaill the Uí Néill potentate, thus becoming the first non-Uí Néill ruler since the year 482 to hold that office. Not much of a history of warring against Norse invaders there; earlier in his career he had overthrown the Norse king Ívar of Limerick (whom he killed on Scattery Island in 977), but his beef with Ívar was a political struggle for control of Munster; if the unlucky Ívar had been of Irish rather than Norse descent, it would not have made any difference; Brian would still have gone after him. The Cogadh, naturally, makes much of this episode and presents Ívar as a rapacious and usurping marauder who oppressed all Munster but who, thanks to the heroic Brian, in the end got his just desserts.
A bitterly resented ruler
It should be remembered that Brian had no natural right or claim to overlordship over all Ireland, any more than the Norse kings of either Limerick or Dublin could have had. He was not born into the position; he did not inherit it; the position itself, the so-called “High Kingship” of Ireland did not at the time exist, either in law or in fact. Brian, by dint of cunning, influence, ruthlessness and raw military power, clawed his way to being de facto ruler of Ireland—meaning that the other local kings submitted to his authority; but their submission was to Brian personally, not to any such concept as a “King of Ireland” for, without prejudice to Alice Stopford Green, there was no such thing as “the Irish State” prior to 1014 nor for a long time afterwards. The native laws from the seventh century onwards are united in their insistence that the highest grade of king in Ireland is the rí cóicid (the king of a province); the Uí Néill, who monopolised the kingship of Tara from the fifth century to Brian’s time made much of the prestige of that kingship, but could never at any point have been described as “Kings of Ireland”. In the light of this tradition of provincial independence, it becomes easier to see why Brian’s rule was so bitterly resisted outside Munster, and why a rising against him—which is precisely what the Battle of Clontarf was—was inevitable.

The Norse, the perennial antagonists of the Cogadh, played only a minor role in the actual battle itself. There was no invading Viking army such as England had experienced the year before, and which had caused Ethelred II to flee for safety to Normandy.  The battle was in the main a decisive clash between the kings of Munster and Leinster, the latter seeking his rightful independence (and, as a Leinsterman myself, I tend to sympathise with Mael Morda), and the former seeking to retain the overlordship he had won for himself by his own power. The Norse did of course take part in the battle, but only in supporting roles; Sitric, the king of Dublin, imported mercenaries from the Orkneys and the Isle of Man to help him against Brian; and Brian, for his part, brought a contingent of the Limerick Norse to help him against Mael Morda. Norse on both sides; Irish on both sides. This was not the kind of well-defined “us versus them” struggle depicted in the Cogadh.
A family tiff
Perhaps the most ironic aspect of the Battle of Clontarf is that, far from being a heroic exercise of nation-building or nation-saving, it is better described as a family tiff, inasmuch as the main participants were all related to one another. They were connected primarily through one woman—Gormflaith ingen Murchada, who was the sister of Mael Morda and the mother of Sitric (thus the Leinster allies, Mael Morda and Sitric, were uncle and nephew respectively) and finally, her third husband (after Olaf Cuarán, Sitric’s father, and the still living former king of Tara Mael Sechnaill mac Domnaill) was Brian Boru himself.  Sitric thus became Brian’s stepson and Mael Morda his brother-in-law; and if this were not already sufficiently complicated, Sitric married one of Brian’s daughters, becoming the Munster king’s son-in-law as well as his stepson. These frankly political marriages were intended to keep a clearly unstable political situation from boiling over, but did not have the desired effect. The Icelandic Njáls Saga, written in the thirteenth century but based upon lost earlier sources and which contains background narrative on the Battle of Clontarf, has a scene in which Gormflaith (now married to Brian) berates and humiliates her son Sitric for having submitted to Brian’s authority, and thus the fatal seed is sown. This scene is not recorded in any contemporary source and while, at the distance of a thousand years I cannot claim to know Gormflaith personally, I am inclined to regard it as the sort of thing she would have done. I am sure she cannot have had great love for or loyalty to Brian; all her history and her family ties were in Leinster, and I cannot fault her for that.

The great confrontation, when it occurred, was catastrophic for everyone who took part in it. It is best to read and enjoy the memorable descriptions of the battle recorded in the Cogadh, and then to put them aside; the Cogadh, which has supplied us with such wonderful details as the aged Brian being slain by  bloodthirsty Viking while praying in his tent (which we all remember from our schooldays) is not reliable history. Of course the Cogadh is going to talk the battle up in language redolent of Homer; this is the dénouement of its hero, after all. A truer picture of the battle, devoid of hyperbole and derring-do, is provided in the bald, unadorned testimony of the annals. I propose one can reliably infer how bloody such an encounter may have been by scrutinising the lists of the important persons who perished on both sides, and in the case of Clontarf, the lists of the slain are prodigious. Brian’s forces are supposed to have been victorious, but how does one measure victory in this instance? Brian’s lordship over Ireland was not maintained.  Brian himself did not survive the battle. Nor did the majority of his sons and grandsons. In fact so many of the leading men of Dál Cais and the fledgling Uí Briain dynasty were killed that their political aspirations were scotched for generations. Is this victory? On the other side, Mael Morda king of Leinster lost his life, but he had achieved what he set out to do—throw off the yoke of the Munster tyrant and win independence for his province. The Norse mercenaries Sitric imported from Man and the Orkneys were destroyed—perhaps this is what is understood as “victory” by the writer of the Cogadh. If so, it may have served his purpose; but in 1014 it did not look that way. There were two real winners of the Battle of Clontarf: Sitric, who did not take part but (at least according to the Cogadh) watched the proceedings from the ramparts of Dublin—let us recall that while Clontarf is part of the modern city, in the eleventh century the Clúain Tarb, the “bulls’ meadow”, lay outside the city limits; and Mael Sechnaill, who after Brian’s death took up the kingship of Tara once more, unopposed, and held it until his death in 1022. And as for Brian? His flame burned bright for a season, but as the Scripture says, He that loveth the danger shall perish in it (Ecclesiasticus 3, 27). God have mercy on all their souls.

Dr Niall Brady has higher degrees in Old Irish and Old Norse, specialising in Viking chiefs in early Irish history. He filed this article from Afghanistan where he is currently serving with the US Army.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 131, March-April 2014