its adjoining cantreds, and all the maritime towns, as well as the strong castles of Leinster, he obtained the royal grant, in fee to himself and heirs, of the whole of his conquests. Before leaving Ireland, Strongbow had given his two cities, Dublin and Waterford, the first to the care of the brave Miles de Cogan, who had captured it; and the other, to the custody of Gilbert de Borard. No sooner had Strongbow left the Irish shores, than a new danger presented itself before the former city. Hasculf, who had been driven with his Danes from Dublin, had collected a numerous army amongst the islands. He was joined by a famous Norwegian chieftain, called John the Furious (in Norman, Johan le Devé; in English of that period, John the Woode; in the Latin of Giraldus, Johannes Vehemens); and together they entered the Liffy, in from sixty to a hundred ships, about Pentecost, which in that year fell on the sixteenth of May. Cogan prepared for a vigorous defence. Gilineholmock, an Irish king who had hitherto been faithful to the English, and whose hostages were in Dublin, came with his men to receive the orders of its English governor : the latter, perhaps, had no great confidence in his ally, and feared to be embarrassed by his treachery. With the chivalrous feeling of his age, he ordered the Irish chieftain to stand aloof from the combat until he should see its conclusion: should the English give way, he was to join the enemy; but in case they should obtain the victory, he bound himself to join with them in the destruction of the invaders. The place where Gilmeholmock stationed himself is named, by the Norman poet, "the Hogges of Sustein." Meanwhile, John the Furious, at the head of a large part of the Danes and Norwegians, approached the eastern gate of the city. Giraldus describes the assailants as men clad in iron some in long coats of mail, others in armour formed of plates of the same metal, skilfully joined together, with round red shields, the edges of which were also defended with iron. Miles de Cogan, with a part of the garrison, marched boldly out to meet them; but of his axe he cut in two the thigh of the rear. the assault of the city, in the moment, On the evening of the sixteenth of October, the king of England, in company with Strongbow, sailed from Milford Haven, with a fleet of four hundred ships; and the next day, which was Sunday, he landed at Croch, only a few miles from Waterford, which city he entered on the Monday morning, the day of the festival of St. Luke. With the king were William Fitz Our dates of Henry's progress in Ireland are chiefly taken from the history of Benedict of Peterburgh. All the authorities agree pretty exactly in the period of his arrival at Waterford, except the Norman poet, whom we might almost have suspected of used the authority of Giraldus, and of having misunderstood his ing's arrival on the day of having 33 མཛོཧཱར་ད༽ཝ Aldelm, Humfrey de Bohun, Hugh de Lacy, Robert Fitz-Bernard, and Bertram de Verdun. Immediately after their arrival, Strongbow did homage to Henry for the earldom of Leinster, and delivered the city into his hands; the custody of which the king gave to Robert Fitz-Bernard. Soon after, arrived a deputation from the people of Wexford, who, when they had heard that Henry was on his way to Ireland, and that he had openly expressed his displeasure against the invaders of that country, thought to make a merit of delivering to him their prisoner, Robert Fitz-Stephen. The king at least pretended to give ear to their accusations, and, after severely reprimanding the delinquent, ordered him to be closely confined in Reginald's Tower. After having received the oaths of fidelity from the kings of Cork, Limerick, and Ossory, as well as from Melaghlin O'Felan and Reginald the ex-governor of Waterford, the king proceeded to Dublin, having previously made an excursion to Cassel and Lismore. The king, after passing through Ossory, arrived at Dublin about Martinmas; where, outside the city by St. Martin's church, was raised for him a palace of wood and twigs, such as those in which the Irish kings were accustomed to hold their courts (scilicet ad morem patriæ illius), though, probably, on a much larger scale. He there held, with great splendour, the festival of Christmas-day (which fell on a Saturday, and was, according to the manner of reckoning in those days, when the old custom of the pagan Anglo-Saxons was still in use, the first day of the year 1172), his court being attended by most of the native chieftains. At Dublin the king received the homage of most of the Irish chieftains, except those of Connaught and Ulster. The inclemency of the season obliged him, as well as Strongbow, who held his court at Kildare, to pass the winter in inaction; and the news of the arrival of the cardinals from Rome, and the rebellious projects of his son Henry, obliged him to leave Ireland, content with receiving the homage of O'Connor by proxy, as the haughty chieftain would not deign to pass the Finn, the boundary of his kingdom, where he was met by Hugh de Lacy and William Fitz-Aldelm. The whole of Ireland had now acknowledged the supremacy of the king of England, except Ulster; which, before his departure for England, the king granted to John de Courcy, "on the condition that he could conquer it." He also granted Meath in fee to Hugh de Lacy. At the festival of the purification, the second of February, the king was still at Dublin. He gave the government of that city to Hugh de Lacy, leaving with him Robert Fitz-Stephen, whom he had liberated before quitting Waterford, Meiler Fitz-Henry, and Miles Fitz-David; and on Ash-Wednesday, which that year fell on the first of March, he entered Wexford. The army proceeded thence, about the middle of Lent, to Waterford, to embark on board the ships which waited there; and, having left these two lastmentioned towns in the custody of Robert Fitz-Bernard, the king left Ireland on Easter-day, the sixteenth of April, and the same day entered Milford Haven, whence he hastened to Normandy. From the period of Henry's visit to Ireland, we may date the dependence of that country upon the English crown; although the struggle between the invaders and the natives was by no means ended. The succeeding history unfolds to us a long series of violent encounters, of surprises, stratagems, and murders. With the spring of 1172, Strongbow had again commenced hostilities, which were chiefly directed against Offaly; and in his return from one of these excursions, in a sudden and unexpected attack from the Irish, he lost his constable and standard-bearer, Robert de Quency, to whom he had given in marriage his sister Basilea. Raymund sought the hand of the widow, and the constableship, until the only daughter of De Quency should be of age to marry. His demand was refused: he left Ireland in disgust, and returned to Wales; and the constableship was given to the care of his envious rival, Hervy de Montmaurice. When the Irish were no longer held in check by the bravery and experience of Raymund, the loss of his services was soon felt by the English, and he was recalled by Strongbow; who now, at last, consented to give him his sister in marriage, and with her the custody of the constableship and considerable grants of land, including Fothard, Hy-Drone, and Glascarrig. At the same time, he made a general distribution of lands to his followers: he gave O'Barthie to Hervy; he gave Fernegenall to Maurice of Prendergast, who also possessed the district of Kinsellagh; to Meiler FitzHenry he gave Carbery; and to Maurice Fitz-Gerald, Wicklow and the territory of Mac Kelan. Hugh de Lacy, who had been left governor of Dublin, nearly fell a victim to the treachery of O'Rourk, whom Giraldus calls "the one-eyed king of Meath." He was saved by the vigilance of Maurice Fitz-Gerald. O'Rourk himself was killed; and soon afterwards, Lacy, having by the king's orders delivered Dublin to Strongbow, entered into Meath, which the king had granted to him, and distributed large gifts of land among his followers. The whole strength of the Irish was now directed against the new settlements in Meath; and during Hugh de Lacy's absence his lands were invaded, and his castles, particularly that of Trim, destroyed. Im But if disunion was sometimes the bane of the English settlers, it was much more frequently the cause of defeat and disgrace to the natives. mediately after the invasion of Meath, we find the king of Ossory, the old enemy of Dermod, leading the English army against the distant city of Limerick.* After prodigies of valour performed by the latter, who were led by their favourite commander Raymund, that city was taken; and the aid of the conqueror was almost immediately solicited by Dermod Mac Carthy, the king of Desmond, against his rebellious son. This district also became tributary to the English. While Raymund was at Limerick, his brother-inlaw, Earl Strongbow, died at Dublin, in the beginning of the June of 1176, the sixth year after the first landing of the English adventurers in Ireland; and Raymund immediately left Limerick, which it would have been danger ous to retain at this critical moment, to the care of an Irish chieftain. The latter immediately rebelled, and Limerick was lost for the second time since its first occupation by the English. Maurice Fitz-Gerald died at Wexford, at the end of the August following. After Strongbow's death, the king confided the government of Ireland to William Fitz-Aldelm. The government of Fitz-Aldelm was weak and ungrateful to the English; and John de Courcy was driven, by his disgust with the conduct of his superior, to undertake his long-projected expedition against Ulster. With a few brave companions he made a threedays' march through a hostile country, and on the fourth reached the city of Down; which, totally unprepared for so sudden an attack, was immediately occupied by the invaders. The king, Dunleve, saved himself by flight; but, after some attempts at negotiation, he returned with an army of ten thousand men to recover his capital. The men of Ulster were the bravest of the Irish, yet John de Courcy, disdaining to fight within walls, advanced from the city to meet them; and a long and obstinate battle ended in the success of the English, who made so terrible a slaughter of their enemies, that Giraldus applies to them literally an old Irish prophecy, which said that the invaders of Ulster should march up to their knees in blood. The fate of Ulster was disputed in many battles, but the desperate valour of John de Courcy overcame all obstacles, and the last independent province of Ireland was placed under English law and Romish church-discipline. The chronicles of the time tell us how the barbarous manners of the natives were suddenly improved and polished, by the more vigorous government under which they were placed.† * In the commencement of this siege ends abruptly the Norman poem. All the documents of this period agree in representing Ireland as not only a land of savages, but as a den of thieves. William of Newbury (lib. iii. c. 9), speaking of the manners of the people of Ulster at the time of their conquest by De Courcy, says, Hujus autem provinciæ homines præ cunctis Hyberniæ populis in celebratione paschali eatenus superstitiosi fuisse traduntur. Nam sicut quodam venerabili episcopo gentis illius referente cognovi, arbitrabantur obsequium se præs. tare Deo, dum per anni circulum furto et rapina congererent, quod in paschali solemnitate profusissimis tanquam ad honorem resurgentis Domini absumeretur conviviis, eratque inter eos urgens concertatio, ne forte quis ab alio immoderatissimis ferculorum præparationibus vinceretur. Verum hanc superstitiosissimam consuetudinem cum statu libertatis propriæ debellati finierunt." M'VICAR'S BALAAM-BOX. SECTION SECOND. TALES OF SOLITUDE AND SOCIETY. NO. I. THE PAUPER'S FUNERAL. HAVING read over to Mr. Puff my corrected manuscript of the story entitled "John Coombie, or the Resurrectionist," and received not a few words of discriminating praise for the touches of nature and art with which I had embellished it, our conversation ran on the topics of the day and the casualties of town-talk. Although a well-disposed man in all the reciprocities of life, I cannot conceal the fact that he was a little red-hot in political matters, and was at the time a member of a committee, established by others of the same kidney, for helping Lord John Russell through with his Reformbill. Many a bother and argumentation had he and I about " the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill," in which I found him so far gone as to be utterly lost to the conviction of common sense; and, in return, he stigmatised me as an old foggo, who, shut up with heathen Greeks and Romans, had allowed myself to lag far behind the spirit of the times. Perhaps it would have been well had we been carded through other; as it must be allowed my knowledge of modern matters was not a little rusty and circumscribed, and as Mr. Puff, from a twice a-week perusal of the Scotsman newspaper, had become versant with the private affairs of all the boroughs in the land, and had at his finger-ends a string of the whole jobbery by which provost, baillie, dean of guild, councillor, town-clerk, and procurator-fiscal, strove to accomplish, at the public expense, their particular ends. It must He be confessed that all my partialities were with the ancients, Mr. Puff's with the moderns. When I talked of the assassination of Julius Cæsar, he turned to the beheading of Louis XVI., and argued rather forcibly that both in a great measure deserved their fates. He contended that the republics of Athens and Sparta were mere bagatelles to the United States of America, and that Buonaparte was a far greater general than Alexander the Great. was also quite of opinion that ostracism was nothing more than vote by ballot, and a number of other whimsicalities. These were, however, only Mr. Puff's peculiarities and weak points. On the whole, he was a good sort of a creature; and, on account of his general shrewd sense, and the extent of his information both with regard to the world and to books, one could in a manner overlook his being a species of blackneb or democraw. I found it, therefore, of advantage, on the score of personal friendship, to steer clear of politics, and to stick to literature, and to general or particular observations on life and manners. Accordingly, as he was one forenoon asking me if I had ever read the works of one Jeremy Bentham, I parried the question by asking leave to take a chair for five minutes, and read over to him a little sentimental sketch of my late nephew, the deceased James M Vicar, which I had that morning taken out of his large manuscript-box. He pleasantly agreed; and the writing runs as follows: THE PAUPER'S FUNERAL. "Now farewell, light, thou sunshine bright, And all beneath the sky."- BURNS. It was a dim and dismal afternoon towards the end of November, and my way home lay through the churchyard. The aspect of the country was dreary in the extreme. By fits the wind sighed through the dark leafless trees; and the severed leaves, damp and satu rated with the rains, lay thick in corners where the eddying blast had whirled them. On turning an angle of the weatherbeaten and antique church, whose Gothic gloominess well corresponded with the season and the scene, I beheld 290 M'Vicar's Balaam-Box. a humble funeral approaching an open grave, beside which a hoary sexton stood bareheaded, and seemingly impatient at the tardy approach of the lowly cavalcade. His coat was thrown over a neighbouring tomb-stone, with his hat resting above it. I could not help pausing to look at the procession, and heave a sigh over the fate of poor mortality. The attendants might be a dozen in number, and were almost all very old men ; one half of whom supported the spokes on which the coffin was carried forward, the others followed to lower it into the grave. Humble was the attempt to exhibit emblems of mourning for the deceased. Most of them were shrouded in greatcoats, which left fancy to suppose that something of black might be under them. One had a slip of rusty crape pinned on his rustier hat; another a pair of black worsted stockings. The coffin itself was of plain deal, which had been rudely blackened over; and coiled at its corners were the rough hempen cords by which it was to be lowered to its earthy receptacle. For the few minutes during which The whole scene made a melancholy to the dust of fortune, little dreaming that his re- One after another the hoary stragglers -a detachment from the fire-side of the poor-house-had disappeared from the gate; and no one was left in the place of tombs but the heedless sexton, who was locking up his mattocks and spades in the bone-house. I heard the grating of the lock as he turned the key in it, and prepared to follow him. "Well, friend, there is a cold afternoon. Who is that you have been doing the last offices to?" "Cold enough, i'faith!" returned he, slapping his hands alternately across his sides, to bring back the blood into his benumbed finger-ends. "These dotards have kept me a full half-bour beyond what might have been, by their halting and slow marching. Had I been alongside, I should have roused them on a little quicker-and all for nothing, too. For what is it the parish allows? a mere old song. It will hardly buy a dram to bring one's body a-beat again." "Who was this poor creature? Was he merely a straggler who has chanced to lay his bones here, or did he belong to the parish?" "I'faith, I don't well know; but I believe his folks long ago were from this quarter, and likely enough he may have been born here himself-indeed, I rather think so. I was acquainted with the old boy a little; but he did not seen to care much minding these |