When the American historian William Hickling Prescott concluded his classic account of the conquest of Mexico he reflected that the accomplishment by 'a mere handful of indigent adventurers' of the vast enterprise which he had chronicled must seem to his readers 'too startling for the probabilities demanded by fiction'. He realised that the Spanish Conquistadores had done something almost too good to be true. Bernal Diaz, who was one of the conquerors and who was conscious of the magnitude of the achievement, asked what other soldiers in the world could have done as much.

The victory gained by the Norman invaders of Ireland over the forces of the High King outside Dublin in 1171 was scarcely less extraordinary. They too were a handful against thousands, a handful of indigent adventurers who made possible the eventual conquest of a kingdom.

The Norman invasion was over two years old by the time of that battle. The struggles of the Irish kings, which were the immediate cause of it, were far older. Brian Boru, who perished at the moment of victory at Clontarf, had taken the High King ship by force. After him Malachy, whom Brian had displaced, reigned until I022. After Malachy there was a succession of inferior Brians, the 'kings with opposition', none of whom was powerful enough to rule what his ambition bade him covet. By the middle of the twelfth century these kings of Connacht and Munster and Meath and Leinster and Breifne and Ossory, the would-be High Kings and their supporters and rivals, had, by their marches and their wars, most effectually upset Ireland. They had, in the expressive phrase, already made Ireland 'a trembling sod'. Their number was increased at that time by the entry to the stage of the northern King of Cinel Owen, who was, however, no more fitted than the rest to rule the lot.

In time, and if the remainder of Europe-and, in particular, England-had been like Ireland, no doubt one of these royal houses would have asserted its permanent rule over the others; but time is not endless, nor do the speedy wait upon the slow.

Among the struggling ones was Dermot MacMurrogh, King of Leinster. Dermot had fought to retain local power and, perhaps with wider hopes, had supported the claim of Murtogh, King of Cinel Owen, to the High Kingship. When Murtogh was eclipsed and killed in 1166 Dermot suffered by his downfall. Soon Rory O'Connor of Connacht, the last of the High Kings, together with Dermot's particular enemy Tiernan O'Rourke, King of Breifne and others, threatened Leinster. Added to the wider causes of the enmity which these men showed to Dermot was a personal one that is best remembered.

Years before, Dermot had stolen O'Rourke's wife. Now, alarmed at the growing strength of his opponents and conscious that O'Rourke's chances of revenge were increasing, Dermot broke the rules of the grim game of royal rivalry that they had all been playing for so long. Up to this they had shown violence in plenty. Temporarily successful competitors in the struggle for power had, apparently as a matter of course, blinded and maimed their opponents, thus putting them out of the race for kingship. Few holds had been barred. But the results of this strife had been, at least since the time of the Norse incursions, domestic matters. At this point all things were changed.

In August 1166, Dermot MacMurrogh left Ireland and sought the aid of the Norman King Henry II of England. He asked Henry, who probably had designs of his own on Ireland, to assist him in the recovery of his kingdom of Leinster. Thus for the second time in a century and a half a Leinster ruler showed himself willing to ally himself with foreigners against the High King. First Maelmora, who lost at Clontarf, had done it; now Dermot proposed to do it again.

From Irish Battles - A Military History of Ireland by G.A.Hayes-McCoy. Click here for more information on the book.

Further reading: A Little History of Ireland by Martin Wallace with illustrations by Ian McCullough. Click here for more information on the book.

part 2