Olaf took the Old Woman in his Arms
The King was seldom at rest, for at all times the land was raided by vikings and war-bands. But Olaf joined with him in driving off the invaders, and those who came thought that his was indeed a grim company to deal with. The King loved him better than his own sons, and at a solemn gathering of the wise men of his realm he publicly prayed him to remain with him, offering him the kingdom in succession when his own day was done, and setting him before his people as his grandson and Melkorka’s son. Olaf thanked him in fair and graceful words, but he refused the offer, for he said he had no real claim to the kingdom, as the King had sons, nor did he wish to stir up strife between them. “It is better,” he said, “to gain swift honour than lasting shame.” He added that he desired to go back to Norway, where vessels could pass peaceably from land to land, and that his mother would have little delight in her life if he went not back to her. So the King said that he must do as he thought best, and the assembly was broken up. Olaf bade a loving farewell to the King, who came with him to the ship and saw him on board, and gave him a spear chased in gold, and a gold-hilted sword, and much money besides. Olaf begged that he might take her old foster-mother to Melkorka; but the King thought her too aged for travelling, and he did not let her go. So they parted the most loving friends, and Olaf sailed out to sea. After a winter spent with King Harald in Norway the King gave Olaf a ship, and he sailed with a fair wind to Iceland, and brought his vessel into Ramfirth, where Hoskuld and his kinsmen greeted him warmly. It spread abroad through all the land that he was grandson of Murtough, King of Ireland, and he became very renowned on that account and because of his journey. Melkorka came soon to greet her son, and Olaf met her with great joy. She asked about many things in Ireland, of her father first and then of her other relatives; and then she asked if her foster-mother were still alive, and Olaf told her everything. But she said it was strange that he had not brought the old woman back with him, that she might have seen her once more. When Olaf told her that he had wished to bring her, but that they would not allow her to go, “That may be so,” she said; but it was plain to be seen that she took this much to heart.
Olaf became a famous man both in Iceland and in Norway, and very wealthy, and he made a good match with Thorgerd, daughter of Egil, and prospered. He called his eldest son Kjartan, after Myrkjartan, his mother’s father, the King of Ireland.
Chapter XVIII
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.