A chairde —
A great many things
have been happening, some of which relate to the interests of the SIG. Unfortunately, that also means that I haven’t
had the chance to collect material for the newsletter, and I refuse to postpone
an issue . . . that way lies madness (or, at least, frustration, right,
Shirley?).
 |
| The Scourge of Ireland |
On the definite plus
side, we’ve been making some progress toward surfacing “model companies” to use
as exemplars of economic development for both Ireland and the United
States, and make both good places to live. Again, however, everything is
still at the stage at which it would be a definite mistake to say too much, as
it could ruin the potential deals. Never
fear, however, we have matters well in hand.
Another thing we
have well in hand is this issue of the newsletter. We deleted a few regular sections in order to
make room for a “deluxe” article on the Battle of Clontarf, which took place
exactly 1,000 years ago come this Good Friday.
I was saving it for a special occasion, and here it is.
Beannachtai!
Michael
Disclaimers
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a whole. Nothing in this newsletter
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Contents
Announcements
Organization,
Publication and Membership Information
Letters
News and Reports
Articles
The Fourth Page
Announcements
As a newsletter, we rely on you to tell us what’s going
on. If you have an announcement for an
upcoming event, please let us know. Just
keep in mind that we try to publish on the 17th of every month, so
get your announcements in at least a few days before that. Otherwise, consider sending it in as a report
or a news item for the subsequent month.
• The Usual Nagging
Announcement. We still have a number
of subscribers who are probably wondering why they’re not getting the
newsletter. It’s because they haven’t
verified their subscriptions by clicking on the link in the e-mail Google sent
to their specified e-mail address. If
you subscribed but have not received the newsletter (which means you’re
visiting the blog and are reading this there), it’s an easy matter to
correct. Enter your e-mail address
again, and Google will send you another verification e-mail.
• Your SIG Coordinator, Michael D. Greaney, recently
published an original book, So Much Generosity: An Appreciation of the Fiction of Nicholas Cardinal Wiseman, John Henry Cardinal Newman, and Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson. Searching under "Michael D. Greaney" on Amazon and
Barnes and Noble will bring up all you want to know about that book, and a
couple dozen others.
• Your Coordinator has been invited to submit a journal
article to the American Journal of
Economics and Sociology on economic crises from the perspective of binary
economics. This will, no doubt, garner
him a Nobel Prize in economics.
Organization, Publication and
Membership Information
What We Are
Litir Scéala an tSIG
Gaelach is the newsletter of the Irish Special Interest Group of American
Mensa, Ltd. More information about the
SIG and this newsletter may be accessed by clicking
on this link.
Resources
We are preparing to put together a list of
resources and organizations that might be useful to our members. Due to the global scope of our readership, we
are trying to limit the list to organizations that extend beyond a purely local
constituency. This is a matter of simple
logistics, due to the immense number of organizations out there. If you’re looking for a local group to get
involved with — and we encourage that — do an internet search. You may be both amazed and pleased at what
you will find. We expect to list
resources as we rebuild our membership, but right now . . . oh, you know the
rest.
Who We Are
No new members this month, etc. (That’s ET cetera, NOT “eck”
the way so many people want to pronounce it.)
We have an increasing number of visitors and casual readers, — no,
really — but that’s not going to get the SIG reactivated officially, however
gratifying it may be personally. We’re
thinking of having a “feeler” sent in to the Bulletin. When we get around
to it, of course. . . .
Anyway, here’s this month’s membership report:
5 Members of
Mensa
2 Other
1 Institutional
Member
26 Newsletter
Subscribers
34 Total
Circulation, although four of them have not “validated” their subscription
(This does not include forwarded newsletters or visitors to the website who
have not signed up for the newsletter — over 1,000 to date.)
Letters
No letters again this quarter. Received, that is. We’ve sent quite a few out, though. Possibly because most of the quarter was winter,
people may have been too busy to write.
News and Reports
Members of the Irish SIG don’t usually belong only to the
SIG, but to other groups with an Irish orientation as well. This is all to the good — the more society
becomes more social, the better
chance we have of influencing our institutions in a positive way and carrying
out “acts of social justice” aimed at improving the common good for
everybody. We want to encourage your
community participation and then report on local events in which SIG members
took part.
• The Center for Economic and Social Justice is still working
on obtaining funding for “Justice University,” intended to be a university over
the internet that will not engage in job training, only teaching and learning.
Articles
Feature Article: The Fury of the
Northmen: The Battle of Clontarf, Good Friday, 1014
Michael D. Greaney
In 795, a squadron of ships with patterned sails appeared on
the beach of the Holy Isle of Iona off the Scottish coast. This housed a monastery founded by Saint
Colum Cille (“Little Dove”). A horde of
warriors sacked the monastic village, carrying off valuables and slaves. Naturally they also picked up souvenirs in
the form of the jeweled shrines and ornaments of the altars. The raiders returned in 802 and again in 806,
when sixty-eight of the monks were slain.
After this, the abbot, Cellach, made the decision to move the
monastery to the “mainland” of Ireland.
He was granted land at Kells, to which he “translated” (i.e., removed in an official ceremony
and procedures) the relics of the founder and whatever else the monks had
left. Among the treasures carried away
by the monks instead of the Vikings may have been a volume of the Psalms and
the four Gospels, known today as the Book of Kells. Such was the disruption of the Norse raids,
however, that the book was never finished.
The “Chief Treasure of the Western World” may be seen incomplete to this
day in Trinity College in Dublin.
Just as the missionary activity of ancient Ireland had burst
upon the world of the fifth through the eighth centuries, the furious energy of
the Vikings took Europe by storm from the eighth to the twelfth centuries — but
with much less positive effect. It was
about the middle of the ninth century that their attention focused on Ireland,
and the wide range of opportunities available there for anyone with the
ambition or lack of scruples to take advantage of them.
Not that piracy and raiding were quite as disreputable then
as now. Often ventures that started out
as raids became trading expeditions, and vice
versa. Frequently, the determination
of whether someone else was a victim or a customer was made on the basis of how
well armed that other was. Of course,
some recent scholars claim that the Vikings have received “bad press.” They were actually simple, kindly folk
carrying on their everyday activities until oppressed by the bringers of Christianity. The same claim is made for a large number of
other groups in similar circumstances, but probably deserves no credence. True, we must consider the historical context,
but we must also be careful not to force modern morality or opinion onto previous
ages.
While significant inroads would not be made for some
decades, the first raids in force in Ireland began toward the end of the eighth
century. The raids are credited with
eventually bringing down the classical age of Irish civilization. The “Danes” established settlements, usually
starting as trading posts, and began a more or less gradual takeover of the
country.
The Scandinavian attacks changed character in or around 837,
when larger fleets were assembled. The
apparent goal was transformed from mere raiding to settlement. The first permanent base in Ireland was
established at the mouth of the Liffey river, where a small village had
probably already existed for some centuries.
This village, Ath Clíath was
named for a dark and peaty pool of water nearby. This also gave its name to the new Norse
settlement, “Black Pool,” or, as we know it today, “Dublin.”
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| The Raid on Paris, 9th Century |
The Vikings, “Men of the Fjords,” established kingdoms and
principalities in England, Italy, Yugoslavia, Novgorod in Muscovy, and
France. In one famous raid they drove up
the Seine in their longboats and left Paris in shambles. A favorite target was Ireland, where the
centuries-old monastic settlements had accumulated much treasure in the way of
liturgical vessels and votive offerings of the faithful. A prayer heard throughout Ireland from the
eighth to the eleventh centuries was, “From the fury of the Northmen, O Lord,
deliver us.”
What to call the invaders has always been a puzzle, both for
the Irish at the time, and later historians.
Before the drowning of Tuirgeis, king of the “Ostmen” at the height of
their power, the foreigners had been nearly all Norwegian, with a sprinkling of
Danes and Swedes. At first, they were
indiscriminately referred to as Genti
(Heathens), Gaill (Foreigners or
Strangers), or Lochlannaigh, a word
often rendered as “White Danes” for some reason.
In or about the year 832, the great Norse warrior Tuirgeis
invaded Ireland. He had the dream of
establishing a great empire in Ireland to match the one being built in Britain
at the same time. Tuirgeis came with
between 10 and 12 thousand warriors in a great fleet of about 120 ships.
As part of his program of conquest, Tuirgeis determined to
destroy Christianity and supplant it with a religion of his own invention. He gained control of Armagh, the religious
center of Ireland, along with a number of valuable relics of Saint Patrick. He converted the church into a temple of his
new religion, established himself as high priest, and his wife as priestess and
sybil. Soon after he was recognized as
the king of all the foreigners in Ireland.
At the height of his power, however, Tuirgeis was somehow
taken prisoner by Maélsechlainn I (Malachy), king of Meath. Soon after he was drowned in Loch Owel,
although the details are somewhat vague as to how he met his death. One story is that he went out fishing with
Maélsechlainn, who pushed him overboard.
Another is that he was fishing alone and struck down by the saints he
had insulted, which might be interpreted as struck by lightning, whether or not
one regards the event as supernatural.
 |
| A Torque or Torc |
A more involved story is that Maélsechlainn’s daughter
dressed up fifteen young warriors as maidens and lured Tuirgeis and his
retainers out on the lake, whereupon the Ostmen and their king were slain. However they encompassed Tuirgeis’ death,
Maélsechlainn gained possession of the “Great Torc of Tomar.” This golden neck collar was a powerful
talisman of kingship among the Danes.
The reign of Tuirgeis was the last time the Danes in Ireland were united
under a single ruler.
After the drowning, a new wave of invaders came in whom
historians believe to have been Danes proper.
The Irish called them “Black Danes” or “Black Heathens.” This was because they were more “black
tempered” than the earlier bunch, wore iron scale armor which looked black at a
distance, or had dark hair. The new
foreigners fought the old foreigners as fiercely as they contended against the
native Irish. They took over Dublin and
many other settlements in addition to founding cities of their own.
By the tenth century the Danes controlled large parts of the
interior as well as the primary harbors.
They probably would have been expelled by this time, or at least
conquered and assimilated, except that there was a fierce struggle going on for
the position of Ard Rí — High King,
often rendered as Imperator Scottorum,
or “Emperor of the Irish.” This gives a
better idea of his role in the ancient Roman sense of Emperor than the meaning
which is imputed to the word today.
 |
| Brían, Imperator Scotorum |
The contenders were two of the most famous men in Irish
history. Maélsechlainn II was considered
the rightful High King. He is sometimes
called Mór, “the Great.” His rival was Brían Mac Cennéidigh, Chief of
Thomond. He is usually called Boroimhé (Boru). This means “of the Cattle Tributes.” It comes from the exactions he managed to
impose on a greater area than had every been accomplished by any previous
claimant to the position of High King. Brían Boroímhé and Maélsechlainn Mór
were contending for control of what remained of Irish Ireland, as well as
whatever portions of Norse Ireland they could gain.
Making things even more complicated was the fact that
Sihtric of Limerick, one of the most powerful of the Danish kings in Ireland,
was allied with the Leinstermen. The
Leinstermen, who had never acknowledged willingly the suzerainty of the High
King, considered the Dál Cais, the fine
of the Cennéidigh tuath, which was
Brían Boroimhé’s family, hereditary enemies of the men of the Southeast. Brían’s father Mahon was betrayed to the
Danes in 976 and executed. Later his
brother of the same name met an identical fate.
This ensured a permanent personal grudge as well as the usual political
one on the part of Brían. He took swift
vengeance on the murderers and within three years was undisputed ruler of the
entire southern half of Irish Ireland.
By this time the Danes ruled a considerable part of the
coast stretching from modern Arklow to the Boyne. In 1002, Brían managed to gain precedence
over Maélsechlainn II, who relinquished the High Kingship in Brían’s
favor. Leinster, of course, did not go
along with this program. They had to be
coerced into submission, otherwise there was a good chance that they would
bring about the ruin of the whole project, as they would a century and a half
later when they invited the Normans in to teach the rest of Ireland a lesson.
The men of Leinster made common cause with the Norse of
Dublin, both groups being unreconciled to forming a part of Brían’s new
order. Outside Ireland, the Norse were
still in the ascendant, and it would have required little effort to
re-establish a Norse empire on the ruins of Brían’s vision of a united Gaelic
Ireland. The Danes had recently
consolidated their hold on England, and a new and final Scandinavian invasion
of that country was a bare half century in the future.
The war began in the year 1013. Brían and Malachy were joined in uneasy
alliance on the one side, the Norse and the men of Leinster on the other. Conspicuous by their absence from this
struggle were the tribes of Ulster. The
leader of the combined Norse and Leinster forces was Sihtric of Limerick. Sihtric was a connection of Brían’s, being
the son of his former wife, Gormflath, who, coincidentally, was also the former
wife of Malachy. Both the Irish and the
Scandinavian chronicles and sagas credit the animosity of Gormflath with
provoking the conflict, although objective evidence suggests that political and
economic factors were the root cause.
The malice of Gormflath, however, may very well have been the spark that
set things blazing.
In the first move, Gormflath allegedly provoked her brother
Maelmora to quarrel with Brían’s son by taunting him with the fact that he was
paying tribute to the upstart Irishman.
Maelmora then left Brían’s court and vowed vengeance. He began raising forces, but before he could
act, Brían and Malachy had besieged Dublin.
Not being skilled at siege warfare, Brían lifted the siege
at Christmas and went home to regroup.
Maelmora and his nephew Sihtric also took this opportunity to gather and
consolidate their forces, bringing in men from the Isle of Man, Scandinavia
and, most importantly for the records in the sagas, Iceland, where the story of
the Battle of Clontarf marks the climax of Njal’s Saga, whose anonymous author
framed the fight as an apocalyptic struggle between the fading old gods and the
new Christian faith. Iceland having
converted to Christianity in 1000, Ireland represented the only hope left for a
pagan Norse kingdom — if the Christian Irish could be vanquished.
To secure their aid, Sihtric promised the hand of his
mother, already thrice-married, to both Sigurd of the Orkneys, and Brodír, an
apostate Christian and black sorcerer.
Apparently Sihtric was counting on either one or both being killed in
the coming battle. Indeed, when the
runes were cast, they foretold that if the battle were fought on any day except
Good Friday, the Danes would be vanquished, and Brían would conquer. If, however, the battle were to be fought on
Good Friday, the Danes would still lose, but Brían would die. This was not too risky a prediction to make,
apparently, for Brían was at this time over seventy years old, and was not
planning on taking an active role in any fight.
As if to seal their fate, the Danes lost a valuable ally to
the Irish. Ospak, the blood-brother of
Brodír, quarreled with him, whereupon Brodír swore to kill him and his
followers. Ospak tricked Brodír into
letting him and his men go. Ospak then
made his way up the Shannon with all his men and ships. He offered his allegiance to Brían, and
accepted baptism at Brían’s own hands, according to the sagas. In all probability, this was a case of Brían
standing God-father, not actually conferring baptism, but it makes a better
story to have Brían perform the baptism himself.
Accounts of the battle that remain to us concentrate on the
interpersonal relationships and the heroism of individuals more than the order
of battle and other such insignificant details.
Evidence is therefore more than a little lacking as to what, exactly,
happened. Some things can be known with
near certainty, however. While the
number of men on both sides was described as “huge,” it would probably not have
seemed so to a modern observer. Most
estimates place the number of combatants at about 5,000. Today’s commentators like to characterize
both sides as having little notion of tactics or strategy. That, however, may be nothing more than the
typical modern idea that people in prior days were appallingly ignorant of
everything, especially as they lacked all notion of penicillin, VCRs, and
particle physics.
The forces met on Good Friday, April 23, 1014. The Danes in Ireland had by April 18 gathered
a great host to put down the growing threat offered by the resurgent
Irish. All were picked warriors, famed
for their valor in battle. Clearly the
intent was to end once and for all any native resistance to Scandinavian rule
and expansion. Added to their strength
were levies of native Irish from Wexford and Leinster. The rendezvous was the field of Clontarf, a
few miles north of Dublin, and convenient to the sea.
Neither of the two commanders-in-chief took part in the
battle. Sihtric guided the Danes from a
position on the city walls, where he held back with the reserves. Brían took up his position near the line of
battle in a tent surrounded with a cordon of warriors, who stood together with
locked shields the entire day.
At the first clash early in the day, the Irish had the worst
of it, coming directly against the armored troops at the center of the Danish
line. They were cut to pieces, but fell
back slowly. Toward evening, it appeared
that the Danes would carry the day, but Maélsechlainn II, the ousted Ard Rí, arrived at the last moment with
his followers, having put aside his personal quarrel with Brían for the greater
good.
The entry of these fresh and unwearied troops broke the
Danish line and caused them to retreat in panic. Everything happened so quickly that Sihtric
was unable to commit his reserves, and could only watch helplessly. The Scandinavians attempted to make their way
back to the boats which they had drawn up along the nearby shore, but the tide
had changed during the day. Many of the
ships had drifted out of easy reach, and the Danes were trapped between the
Irish mowing machine and the unforgiving sea.
Many who survived the slaughter on land drowned attempting to make their
way to the longships. As the battle drew
to a close, the warlock Brodír gathered a small band together. An Irish traitor pointed out the location of
Brían’s tent near the wood of Tomar.
 |
| Death of Brían |
In a suicide charge, Brodír and his band broke through the
shieldburg surrounding Brían. One story
is that Brían killed Brodír himself, and then fell on his sword — an incredibly
uncharacteristic action both for a Christian and for someone with the
self-confidence to usurp the High Kingship of all Ireland. It also contradicts the tradition that Brían
was unarmed, holding only a book of the Psalms during the day, having put aside
all weapons as inappropriate accouterments to prayer after he had addressed his
troops from horseback earlier in the day, gold-pommeled sword in hand.
The Battle of Clontarf marked the high water mark of Danish
influence in Ireland, but also the last chance for a united Ireland for
centuries. Brían was slain, as well as
his chosen heir, his son Murchadh, and Murchadh’s son, Turlough. Brían’s son Donchadh, who had been on a foraging
expedition, survived, but he was clearly not the man to consolidate his father’s
gains. Within a few years, Maélsechlainn
II was able to regain the High Kingship, and was the last man to stand as Ard Rí without opposition. Brían’s usurpation of power had legitimized
the use of arms instead of election to reign at Tara, and from that time on,
few men who held the title of Ard Rí
acquired it without having to resort to violence.
Because these later rulers were unable to hold undisputed
power or secure a general obedience to their rule, they were substantially
weaker than previous High Kings. The
futility of their attempts to govern effectively ensured that Ireland would
remain divided and weak, even after the Danish threat had been countered. The crushing defeat suffered at Clontarf
guaranteed that the Scandinavians would not rule Ireland, but Brían’s death
virtually ensured that neither would the Irish.
The Battle of Clontarf, fought on Good Friday in the year
1014, marked the apex of Danish power in Ireland. It was also the final effort until the later
invasion of the Normans for the Norse to secure permanent hegemony over the
island. While the Battle of Clontarf marked the high point of Norse power in
Ireland, however, it did not mean the end of their presence. Many areas had been colonized by the
Scandinavians. They were regarded, even
by the Irish, as legitimate possessors of those settlements — as long as they
stayed there and didn’t try to expand beyond their power base and
already-established settlements.
The Fourth Page
The Geraldines of
Ireland, XVI: The First Desmond War Continues
In the absence of the
Earl of Ormond, his brothers, Sir Edmund and Sir Edward Butler,
continued an ancient Irish tradition and entertained themselves by doing some
reiving (cattle raiding). A few cattle were lost, and some “unimportant” churls
were killed, but nothing that could not have been solved by levying a fine or a
suspended sentence of some kind. Instead, Carew decided to invade Ormond and
teach the Butlers a lesson.
From any point of view this was an exceptionally unintelligent
move. The Butlers were the only constant allies that the English had among the
great lords of Ireland. With open rebellion simmering just under the surface,
it would be most unwise to alienate anyone, much less the only trustworthy
indigenous supporters available. There was also the problem of how to maintain
a balance of power when keeping the Irish divided, and having such a strong
force as the Butlers permanently on the side of the English made the task
somewhat easier.
However, going after the Butlers was not Carew’s only stupid
mistake. He compounded the error by fleshing out his troop levies by hiring bonaghts, the mercenary class of
Ireland, clanless outlaws despised by both the English and the Irish. These
differed from the galloglach, in
being murderers for hire, while the galloglachwere
generally sworn liegemen and retainers of a lord (and, as such, somewhat
easier to control—although just as fierce fighters).
In his seat of Kilkenny, Ormond at this time boasted possibly
the strongest castle and most magnificent great house in Ireland, perhaps
including England as well. Under normal circumstances, an attack by Carew’s bonaghts would have been futile, against
the town as well as the castle and house. Unfortunately for the Butlers and the
townspeople who relied on them for protection, however, they were taken by
surprise. Carew then lost control of his army. The castle and great house were
destroyed, and the entire town of Kilkenny burned to the ground in the rampage.
Thus the Butlers, the most loyal of all the Irish earls, suffered an enormous
loss through the agency of the Queen’s chosen representative.
While Carew proceeded to carry out a program of pillage, treachery
and assassination, the Butlers appealed and hoped for royal help. Obviously
unaware that Elizabeth was essentially powerless to oppose the decisions of her
advisors, of whom Carew was one, they retained their loyalty until it became
apparent that no recourse was available. They allied themselves with the
Captain of Desmond in order to carry out a campaign, while the native Irish
united and carried out a guerrilla war against the English agent. By the time
any help at all was sent in response to the Butlers’ appeals for help against
Carew, all of Ireland was at war.
At one point Carew actually captured both the Butler brothers,
but released them after they gave their parole. This was probably an attempt to
propitiate the Butlers’ new allies among the clans, as well as curry favor with
the Earl of Ormond whose return was imminent. It failed on all counts. Within
twenty-four hours of their release, the Butlers were attacking Carlow and
Idrone.
Soon after this came the great Wexford raid. James FitzMaurice,
with both Butlers and Geraldines under his command, made a dash into the heart
of the Pale and swept through the fair of Inis-corr on Great Lady-Day. It is
not clear from the sources, but this was apparently accomplished with minimal
or no loss of life on either side, just a huge loss of all forms of portable
wealth.
James Butler, Earl of Ormond, returned to Ireland a little
later that same year. To mollify him, Carew was ordered to release all his
Butler hostages, and was recalled to England. His sole achievement in Ireland
was to unite all Irish factions under James FitzMaurice, the Captain of
Desmond, in his crusade to save the Faith and drive the English from the land.
His allies even included the Butlers, who had become Protestant, but who, for their
own reasons, saw a better future in an Ireland freed of English rule, at least
at that time.
Virtually all the English planters either returned to
England, or “disappeared.” English troops on patrol would come across blackened
peel towers, which still dot the Irish landscape. As one source has it, “Henceforth
the Queen’s deputies knew that an evicted Irish farmer living meant an English
colonist dead.”
After an abortive siege of Cork, FitzMaurice occupied Kilmallock
in September, 1569. After a furious battle lasting for several days with
English troops under the command of Sir Henry Sidney (father of Sir Philip
Sidney) carried on through heavy wind and rain, the Captain of Desmond was
driven off by English artillery, pikes and discipline. Sidney left Humphrey
Gilbert in command of the Kilmallock garrison, and pursued FitzMaurice in the
West, neutralizing him most effectively for the rest of the year, then retired
to Dublin, “in victory and triumph, and no deputy of the Kings of Ireland had
ever before made a more successful expedition.”
With Sidney gone, FitzMaurice almost immediately besieged
Kilmallock with all the strength he could muster, which was woefully
inadequate: 1,500 foot and sixty horse, all of them in far less than peak
condition. He was readily driven off by a mere century of Gilbert’s more
disciplined and better-equipped forces. So great was the slaughter that Sir
Henry Sidney, after an inspection of the heaps of corpses of galloglach lying about the field,
knighted Gilbert on the spot.
Having seen the success of his courage and audacity (and no
doubt feeling more than a little contempt for a foe so easily bested), Sir
Humphrey then “pursued a course of pacification which grew monstrous even in
the eyes of many of his countrymen.” He decorated the footpath to his front
door with the severed impaled heads of his victims. In a letter to Sir Henry
Sidney, Gilbert gave a brief précis
of Elizabethan policy toward the non-English races they came in contact with,
since he was, “for my part constantly of this opinion that no conquered nation
will ever yield willingly of their obedience for love, but rather for fear.”
Elizabeth’s advisors were convinced that the rebellion was over, and Gilbert
was recalled to England.
No sooner was Gilbert out of the way than FitzMaurice instantly
fell upon Kilmallock. As astounding as Gilbert’s victory over the Captain of
Desmond had been by lifting the earlier siege with a mere 100 men, FitzMaurice’s
was even more remarkable, in that he took a fortified town with a bare 120 men,
galloglach troops of the Sweenys and
the Sheehys. Three days were spent in looting the town of all valuables. Since
no mention was made of atrocities, it is to be presumed that the inhabitants
were permitted to leave in safety, without, of course, any portable wealth.
After the pillage, the town was put to the torch, “so that Kilmallock became
the receptacle and abode of wolves in addition to all the other misfortunes up
to that time.”
#30#
