Mo grá – mu graw – my love
Mór – more – big
Mo ghrá sa – mu graw sa – my own love
Póg mo thóin – powg mu hoan – kiss my arse
Seanchaí – shanakhee – historian or storyteller
Slán – slawn – goodbye
Thóin – hoan – arsehole
Tóg go bog é – toeg guh bug aee – take it easy
Place Names
Ferns – Ferns, County Wexford
Glascarrig – Port of Ferns, 20km due east of Ferns
St Kieran Quay – on north shore of Bannow Bay
Wexford – Walled town controlled by the Norse
Waterford – Walled town controlled by the Norse
Chepstow – Welsh town on the Wye river in Strongbow’s lands
Bristol – English port on Severn river controlled by Henry II
Cill Osnadh – Kellistown, County Carlow
Author’s Note
I have always been captivated by the immersive experience of historical fiction and its ability to transport me to times and places long past. As photographs of family holidays are better with someone in them, history is best taught and understood with the people of the times firmly in the frame. Dry historical records quickly slip the mind, but tell the human stories behind the events and our own emotions help burn them into our memories.
As a fan of the genre, I have always been surprised that vast swaths of Irish history have been neglected by the writing fraternity, particularly for a country that cherishes the writer and is well represented in the ranks of the literary greats.
Allied with our obsessive interest in our history, you would think the field would be well exhausted by now. Yet this is not so, quite the opposite in fact. A precursory glance at our neighbours will reveal the veritable libraries of novels piled high, exhaustively exploring every conceivable nuance of English history.
We, on the other hand, have been delinquent. Why, I ask myself?
Well, there might be aspects of Irish history into which we would not welcome prying eyes dragging up long-forgotten and embarrassing family secrets. We are happy to bang our drums and wave our flags at the great injustices visited upon us in our history. Ireland, a nation of innocent types, disenfranchised and abused by an invader who despoiled a happy land and people, corrupted a unique culture and set the country on a spiral of conflict lasting over eight hundred years.
Well, at least one clause of the last sentence holds true—Ireland may have had a somewhat unique culture at the time in European terms. The island had avoided, for the most part, the waves of conquerors which continually swept across the continent of Europe and Britain. While avoiding the inevitable conflict and destruction which accompanied these events, the island also never benefitted from the administrative, judicial and technical innovations that usually came, part and parcel, with the victors. The surviving political entities of these upheavals gradually rose in power and stability as a creeping unity spread across the land.
There was good and bad in this for Ireland. From a military perspective, the Irish kings were many and disunited, and for that reason they could be overcome, one by one, by an invader. However, for the same reason it was difficult to conquer the island in its entirety; the lack of a dominant power meant there was no single king whose head and capital, once taken, would bring the island to heel.
In addition, there were some surprisingly enlightened aspects to the ancient Brehon law that was in use in Ireland at the time. This body of law was fundamentally different in origin to Justinian law, which formed the basis of the dominant judicial systems in Europe at the end of the twelfth century. (Justinian law had its origins in Rome, and its adoption followed the Roman legions as that empire expanded.) Contemporary readers will find many Brehon laws remarkably apt for the modern zeitgeist in terms of the care of animals, the environment and women’s rights. By way of example, Brehon law allowed a woman to easily divorce her husband for a multitude of reasons and take her share of the wealth—reasons that included obesity and impotence. However, there were unsavoury aspects to the law, such as the acceptance of slavery, which was legal and widespread—a practice which had long been outlawed as barbaric by the Normans.
Any assertion that life in Ireland at the time approached any kind of an ideal is questionable. In truth, it was harsh and uncertain. Indeed, the only certainty was the incessant seasonal warring, with all the unpleasantness it brought for both men and women. And if they were lucky enough to avoid the spear, slavery or famine would await.
Furthermore, any attempt by the Irish—or Celts, as they were known—to tarnish the Norman arrival with illegitimacy would be to condemn themselves. Their own ancestors had arrived centuries beforehand from the continent to take the island from the first tribes, the Tuatha Dé Danann. The Normans arrived and did much the same, but at least the Normans who stayed could claim lineage from the high kings of Ireland, stretching back to the most revered high king of all, Brian Boru, Ard Rí. If that wasn’t enough, they could solemnly claim lineage to a man created from some clay by God on the sixth day of the universe, Adam. That’s hard to best.
This novel is my attempt to weave these nuances into an account of the whirlwind events of late twelfth-century Ireland that I would have enjoyed reading. It is the first in a series, to be collectively known as The Hiberno-Norman Chronicles.
I have taken some liberties with the characters and their relationships, motivations, passions and flaws. However, I have remained closely loyal to the historical facts as recorded in the primary records. The most attentive enthusiasts will spot one or two mild transgressions on my part to aid the narrative flow. For these, and any errors or omissions, which are entirely mine, I ask your forgiveness. However, the book is a work of historical fiction; please view it as such and refer to the appropriate records and academic works as required.
In my defence, I wanted to keep up the pace and maintain the interest of the reader. I think any story is enhanced with a little of the shocking unpredictability of A Game of Thrones and unnerving tension of Peaky Blinders. I doubt I’ve reached those heights yet, but I hope I’m at least heading in that direction and you’ll stick with me.
To further help the interested reader, I’ve produced some detailed maps which place events in their geographical context and trace the movements of the characters as the story unfolds. These maps can be viewed in Google Earth and can be accessed from my website seanjfitzgerald.com on the Places & History page. You’ll also find some photos and videos in which I touch upon some of the history and important events which take place in the book.
My motives in seeking the attention of readers are not purely selfish, as I do believe that the history of these times is compelling. These stories are as riveting as anything George R. R. Martin could write but have the added advantage of being factual. However, we have not exploited this history to the same extent as our neighbours and other countries have done to entice tourists. As a country, we have a fabulous but neglected asset in this history, which I’m sure we could better use to tell our story and attract visitors to the country and places where these momentous events unfolded.
SF
December 2023
Acknowledgments
I'd like to thank my son Derry and my friends Keelan O'Donnell and Kevin Jennings for suffering the experience of reviewing early drafts of the novel. They will recognise their invaluable course corrections and ideas in the work.
My nephew, Luke Fitzgerald went beyond the requirements of familial relations in his excellent detailed critique; many thanks.
Niall, my youngest son travelled the southeast of Ireland with me putting his drone flying skills to good use in producing the drone footage of the places where the events of the novel occurred. This footage will be available on my website on the Places&History page.
Of the many research materials I used, the following three are the most reader-friendly; Strongbow by Conor Kostick, Brehon Laws by Jo Kerrigan and Fin Dwyer’s irishhistorypodcast.com.
