his repeated solicitations and remonstrances were met by an insolent attempt to undervalue his alliance: his patience was at last wearied, and he showed some disposition to abandon one who thus repaid his services with slight. The Wexford men, strongly disaffected to Dermod, saw and encouraged this inclination, which they strengthened by their artful representations, and easily converted into a resolution to join the prince of Ossory.

This incident revived the courage of Donald, and made him determine on assuming the offensive, and attempting an incursion into the territories of king Dermod. Prendergast, more sensible of the inadequacy of any force he could command for such a purpose, dissuaded him from the vain effort. This was the more necessary, as a fresh arrival from England had now repaired the loss occasioned by his defection.

Prendergast soon discovered the error of the step he had taken. He received information that there was a secret design, the intent of which was first to secure his service, and then repay it by taking the lives of himself and his small party,* and he resolved to retire to Wales. Donald remonstrated to no purpose, and then determined to have recourse to violence. "The men of Ossory," writes Regan, "persevering in their malicious treason against Prendergast, assembled two thousand men together, plashed a place through which he was to pass; whereof, by good fortune, Maurice having intelligence, acquainted his companie with the danger. After mature deliberacione, it was resolved, that no knowledge shuld be takin of the intended treason, and to make stay in Kilkenny for a few days, and in the meanwhile to send messengers to Donald's seneschall, to lett hym knowe, that they were contented to serve the kyng of Ossory, if it pleased hym, half a year, or a quarter longer, which offer Donald gladlie accepted. The Ossorians, hearinge that Maurice had made a new agreement with the kyng, abandoned the place where they lodged. Maurice hearinge that they wer dislodged, about midnight rose out of Kilkenny, and continued upon a swift march until he came to Waterford, where they founds mean to imbarque themselves for Wales, but not without some difficultie, for one of the English had slain a cittizen whyche enraged the people, but Maurice Prendergast by his wisdome appeased the tumult."t

The first landing of the English, and the events which immediately followed, were not so far different from the ordinary feuds and provincial wars of a country, which seems to have been the home of perpetual discord, as to be. at first very clearly traceable to their results. But Roderic, who from the beginning felt his private interests menaced by the success of his known enemy, the king of Leinster, now began to perceive that his monarchy was likely to be endangered by the course of events. This he was not left to infer. Dermod, in the highflown insolence of conscious power, now avowed his pretensions to the king

*The character of Donald is not implicated in this design. Maurice Regan, from whose fragment this memoir is drawn, adds, "but Donald would by no means assent to that."

† Regan.

dom. The honour of Roderic was also pledged to the vindication of the rights of his faithful partisan, the chief of Ossory. Under these motives, he resolved to make those vigorous efforts which, when impartially viewed and referred to their real objects and the actual spirit of that age, carry with them all the heroism, though not the romance, of national valour. He summoned his tributaries, and raised his standard at Tara, where he reviewed his assembled forces; from thence he led them to Dublin. Here, we learn from the ancient annals of the country, he found in this vast national force symptoms of weakness, enough to convince him that there was little or no hope of any proportional result. Many were likely to betray him for the promotion of their private views-some from envy-some from resentment of former wrongs-some from fear of an enemy, of whose deeds they had perhaps received inflated descriptions-every disposition was shown to thwart his measures; and all the ordinary and easilydistinguished symptoms were perceptible, of that disaffection which, if it find no opening for a traitor's blow, is sure to take the first cross-road to part company. Roderic had long been aware of the fact, that many

of the assembled chiefs were in secret the adherents of the rival house of Hy-Niall. Acting on suspicions, the grounds of which could not be mistaken, Roderic dismissed his northern tributaries on the ostensible grounds, that the occasion did not warrant so considerable a force. His own troops, with those of O'Ruark, Thomond, and a few of Dermod's disaffected tributaries, he retained-a force, numerically taken, far superior to those he should have to meet; yet when the vast preponderance of discipline, arms, and continued success are weighed, far insufficient to give confidence to a mind not under the influence of infatuation.

Roderic nevertheless acted with vigour and a steady and deliberate sagacity, which made the most of the circumstances. He saw demonstrations on the part of the enemy, which indicated apprehensions of the event, and he resolved to avail himself of a seeming strength, the weakness of which he too well understood.

In the mean time Dermod, easily elated by success, and yielding with equal proneness to dejection, communicated to Fitz-Stephen his unmanly fears. These the steady courage of Fitz-Stephen repelled. He told the feeble chief, that "a brave leader should not only show personal valour in the field, but preserve that steady resolution which can brave the extremities of reverse. That true courage, unaffected by fortune, was always ready to meet and obviate the most trying perils with composure and the resources of a collected mind. At worst, a glorious death was the last resource of an undaunted spirit." With these and such remonstrances, in which he most justly expressed the character of his own steady and heroic spirit, Fitz-Stephen vainly endeavoured to communicate heroism to the feeble and abject Dermod, who, though personally courageous, was utterly devoid of the spirit which was thus appealed to. It was, therefore, the next essential con

sideration to take the most immediate measures for the defensive course, which, although prompted by timidity, was not without its recommendation to the cautious prudence which governed all the movements of the English. The English retired to Ferns, and entrenched

themselves in an inaccessible position among thick impervious wood, and deep morasses. Here they quietly awaited the approach of

Roderic.

Roderic surmised the advantages, and saw the difficulties which these circumstances appeared to offer. While the strength of the position of the English made assault ridiculous, it yet implied a sense of weakness. There was a seeming opportunity to avert the menaced calamity by wary policy while the risk of war was at best but doubtful. He resolved to proceed by remonstrance and persuasion, and communicating with Fitz-Stephen, exposed the injustice of the cause, and the unworthiness of the person to whom he had prostituted English valour. Fitz-Stephen readily penetrated the true policy of these overtures, and concluded that conscious weakness alone would, under the circumstances, have dictated them. He knew the real frailty of the brave monarch's best resources, and could not resolve either to abandon his own fortunes, or be false to his plighted engagements, and he at once rejected the offers and reasoning of Roderic. The conclusion of his letter is curious for its characteristic and quaint significance. "To what end is your embassie? If Rotherick give council, we need it not; if he prophesie, we credit not his oracle; if he command as a prince, we obey not his authority; if he threaten as an enemy, a fig for his monarchy."

Roderic next appealed to the fears of Dermod, who, now supported by the courage and decision of his brave allies, rejected his overtures with equal resolution. He then prepared for a vigorous effort against the English, which, in the opinion of Leland "might have confounded all their expectations, deterred their countrymen from any like attempts, and prevented the momentous consequences of this apparently insignificant invasion. The future fate of Ireland hung on this critical moment, and it was at once decided, for Roderic listened to the suggestions of his clergy, and rather than hazard an engagement, consented to treat with a prince whose perfidy he had already experienced." Such is the representation of the most impartial and moderate historian that Ireland has yet produced. But it abounds with manifest inconsequences. The "critical moment,” though it brings the event, does not as necessarily bring with it the efficient resource. Nor, if it be admitted that Roderic's entering into a compromise on that occasion carried with it fatal consequences, can it with equal reason be insisted on, that he had the choice of any other course. So far as his own immediate acts admit of inference, it was his rash design to attempt the forcing of the position of his enemy; and there can be no doubt that he would have in this but consulted the dictates of policy and resentment. It did not require a prophetic anticipation of "seven centuries" to come, or of vague sensations of national impressions yet unborn, to stimulate a breast affected by far other and far nearer passions. It was the fate of Roderic to stand at the helm when the tempest was too strong for mortal hand; no prudence or courage could have withstood the adverse concurrence of circumstances with which he had to contend; and it seems to us surprising, with what flippant facility writers of great general fairness allow their pens to glide unthinkingly into reflec

tions, the absurdity of which is exposed by nearly all the details of the statement to which they are appended. There is no extraordinary difficulty in the correct appreciation of the difficulties of Roderic's situation. The vast inequality of real military force may be omitted— from that at least he never shrunk; but he had, in fact, no power at his command: his army was a mere pageant, his chiefs were only to be leagued by their private objects, and were, if these required, far more willing to combine against their monarch, than to follow him in a common cause. The common interest was little known-there was no community of feeling, or if such had existence, it was lost in the eager strifes and contentions of provincial politics. Provincial feuds and jealousies the disaffection of many-the fears of some-the disunion of all, imperfectly traced in the meagre records of that dark age, appear to the modern historian as dim shadows in the distance of time, which he may notice or not, just as he is inclined to colour actions which have derived their chief importance from after events. It is indeed easy for modern patriotism to play its graceful harlequinade on the tombs of those who, in that deep, anxious, and fatal conflict (if they will have it fatal), were the anxious and deeply interested actors; and who, without being deficient in courage or earnestness in their own concerns, were governed by fatal and unconquerable influences now imperfectly conceived. The disunion of the chiefs of the country may be truly set down as fatal to the cause of resistance; but this was their essential characteristic-the idiosyncrasy of the land.

Roderic arrayed his forces for the storm; and he endeavoured to awaken the ardour of his followers by an address well adapted to rouse their patriotism and courage. He represented the injustice of Dermod's aim, and the crimes of his life. He pointed out the dangers likely to follow from the power of the new comers; adverted to former instances of similar effects, and cited examples of similar dangers averted by brave resistance. "While these strangers are but few in number," he concluded, "let us stoutly issue out upon them. The fire, while it is but in embers and sparkles, may easily be covered with ashes, but if it break into flames, it is hard to be quenched.... Wherefore, cheer my hearts, we fight for our country and liberty; let us leave unto our posterity an immortal fame; let us press on and lustily assault them, that the overthrow of a few may be a terror to many; and that it may be a warning to all future potentates not to attempt the like again." Such was the bold and specious rhetoric, which the brave monarch directed to most reluctant hearers. The real difficulties, and the true dangers of action, were as apparent to his chiefs as they were to his own sagacity; they were not, like him, impelled by the powerful sense of having fame and dominions at the hazard. The clergy-by profession the advocates of peace, and by interest concerned to protract a contest by the result of which they were likely to be gainers-were active in influencing the minds of his camp, as well as his own. He soon perceived that an effective attack was hopeless-that the consequence of defeat must be ruin. The alternative was a matter of necessity as well as prudence, and he chose

it: unable to resist effectively, he resolved to temporize. New proposals were offered to the king of Leinster; and by the mediation of the clergy, after some time, a treaty was concluded, in which every thing was conceded that Roderic had a right to demand. Dermod consented to acknowledge his supremacy, and to pay him the usual service of a subject prince-giving up his son as a hostage. A secret article secured the more general object of Roderic, and showed the perfidy of Dermod: he engaged, on the reduction of Leinster, to dismiss his English allies; and, it is added by historians, resolved to observe this treaty no longer than might suit his purposes.

He was now at liberty to pursue, undisturbed, his schemes of vengeance and aggrandizement. Dublin was selected as the first object of attack. This city was chiefly inhabited by Ostmen, who were at this time the chief commercial inhabitants of the country. These foreigners sate loosely from the sway of the native kings, which they resisted or acquiesced in as circumstances rendered expedient. Dermod bore them especial hate for the spirit with which they had frequently repelled his aggressions. Nor was his dislike without a more especial cause. His father had so irritated them by oppression, that when they caught him within their walls, they slew and buried him with a dead dog. They from that time revolted and acknowledged no government but that of their countryman, Hesculph Mac Torcal. FitzStephen was at this time detained near Wexford, by the necessity of erecting a fort for the security of his own possessions. Dermod, with his Irish, and the remainder of his British allies, advanced into the territory of Dublin, which he laid waste with slaughter and conflagration, till the terrified citizens were forced to appease him by a prompt submission, which, at the instance of Fitz-Gerald, was accepted.

It would be tedious and unprofitable to enter on all the minor changes and events which led to no apparent result of any interest, in a work not directly pretending to a historical character, beyond what its professed object demands. Dermod, now fully reinstated in his power, might have allowed the disturbances he had raised to settle into comparative calm. The English would gladly have availed themselves of the peaceful possession they might have been allowed quietly to retain; their English countrymen showed no eagerness to join them; and king Henry, if under these assumptions he would have found inducement to come over, would have met the shadow of submission, and the proffer of free allegiance, which must have left things pretty nearly as they were. The arbitrement of war alone could transfer the rights of the native chiefs, and afford the sanction of necessity for the further oppressions which are the sure followers of continual strife. But Dermod's views, expanded by the elevation of confirmed power, consulted only his inflamed ambition, and the unremitting vengeance of his heart. Another step lay before him-too easy to be deferred-which must place his foot on the neck of Roderic, his ancient and hated foe. He represented to his British allies the justice of his right, the wealth and magnificence of the prize. The dominions of Connaught, he said, would afford the richest and fairest settlements to those who should assist him in recovering the possession which had been wrongfully