One Irish Summer

by William Eleroy Curtis

Wexford has been the scene of much political disturbance. The people are intense in their hatred of England, and every baby in the cradle is a violent home ruler. Perhaps this unanimous sentiment is in a measure due to the influence of the Redmond family, which belongs here.

On the site of an ancient bull ring is a bronze figure of a young man in a belligerent attitude with a long pike. He is called “The Insurgent” and the figures “1798” are on the pedestal—nothing more.

“It’s one of the patriots of ’98,” said the jaunting car driver. “They are putting up statues like that everywhere in Ireland now, to keep the events of the past in the memory of the people.”

There is a great deal of significance in that statue, and even more in the photographs and post cards of it which are hung for sale in the windows of every stationer and news stand and cigar-shop. Under the picture is printed in plain letters the words, “Who fears to speak of ’98?”

What are called “the twin churches” are two fine Roman Catholic houses of worship, exact duplicates of each other, within two or three blocks, with beautiful spires two hundred and thirty feet high. They cost $250,000 each and were paid for by the congregations of this city and neighborhood. It is astonishing how much money the people of Ireland spend upon their religion, and the twin churches of Wexford are illustrations of the display that is found in every part of the country. It is a common subject of comment and criticism that the bishops should permit such extravagance, but they reply that no man is ever poorer because of what he gives for his religion. It may be said, also, that all of the Roman Catholic churches are crowded on Sunday, early and late.

St. Sellskar’s Church is built upon the foundation of the Abbey of the Holy Sepulchre, which was established here a thousand years ago, and within it was signed the first treaty ever made between the English and Irish races. This was signed in 1169 by Dermot McMurrough, King of Leinster, and Richard de Clare, Earl of Pembroke, better known by the name of Strongbow. And it was in this abbey that Strongbow resided, and in this church his sister, Bassilia de Clare, was married to Raymond le Gros in 1174. The Princess Eva, daughter of Dermot McMurrough, King of Leinster, who married Strongbow on the field of battle, is buried in a stone coffin at Bannow, in the suburbs of Wexford, down on the coast. It was formerly a populous and prosperous city, of which no traces can now be seen except the ruins of the church that contains her tomb. The rest of the town has been buried under the encroachments of the sea, and sand now lies ten and twenty feet deep upon the tops of the houses. Until a few years ago Bannow returned two members of parliament, although for many generations there was nothing for them to represent except the ruins of this church and a solitary chimney. However, for the loss of this franchise the British government paid £15,000 to the late Earl of Ely, whose seat is in the neighborhood. His ancestor, Rev. Adam Loftus, was lord high chancellor of Ireland during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. He was one of the founders of Trinity College and the first provost. The romantic story of this extinct city is related in a novel entitled, “Eva, or the Buried City of Bannow,” and contains a good deal of interesting history mixed up with the fiction.

I suppose that sooner or later the energetic Normans would have found their way across the St. George’s Channel, but their invasion was invited in 1169 by Dermot McMurrough, King of Leinster, who is thus responsible for the loss of his country’s freedom, and subsequent centuries of bloodshed and distress. He was a good soldier, but the Christian influence under which he was educated did not remove all the savage traits from his system and he was guilty of many wicked, brutal, treacherous acts of tyranny and violence against his neighbors and his subjects. He kidnapped the wife of Ternan O’Rourke, King of Leitrim, and the latter persuaded the other kings in southern Ireland to join with him to punish the insult. McMurrough was driven from pillar to post and finally fled to the court of Henry II. in London, where he offered to betray Ireland to the English monarch.

The latter declined to give Dermot any personal assistance, but permitted his vassals to do what they liked, and a number of British and Welsh barons of broken fortunes, under the leadership of Richard de Clare, Earl of Pembroke, organized an invasion. In May, 1169, they landed at Wexford with a force of two thousand well armed Normans, Englishmen, Welshmen, and renegade Irishmen. Strongbow was given the leadership of the expedition with a promise of the hand of Dermot’s daughter in marriage and the succession to the throne of Leinster. Before the invaders landed Dermot returned quietly to his castle at Ferns, and during the winter of 1168-69 pretended to do penance for his sins in the Augustinian monastery he had founded there, in order to throw his Irish enemies off their guard.

The King of Connaught, Roderick O’Conor, who was the acknowledged suzerain of all Ireland at that time, collected a large army and marched against the invaders, and he might easily have crushed them, but he was a weak and credulous man, without the ability or vigor of Brian Boru, and Dermot fooled him completely, promising to expel the foreigners provided he was restored to his kingdom. As soon as Roderick had marched away, however, and Dermot felt himself strong enough to break his promises, he led his allies with fire and sword into the city of Dublin and the English have occupied it ever since.

Strongbow’s wedding with Eva took place Aug. 25, 1170, upon the battle field near Waterford, among the corpses of the slain. There is a striking picture of the scene in the National Gallery at Dublin. And the bridegroom continued his career of massacre and devastation until he “had made a tremblin’ sod of all Ireland.”