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Chapter Two, Part Three: The High Heroic Period
Chapter Two, Part Three: The High Heroic Period, 607-620
By 607, there had been almost thirty years of competition between the Companies on the island. While this competition had been mostly expressed by the occasional fight over who controlled access to what bits of territory where fur was to be found. This violence claimed little more than a few lives, and was mostly the sort of violence expressed by men in a hardscrabble line of work. They were not the results of orders from higher authority.
In 607, however, tensions between the various petty Kings back in Ireland reached a boiling point. The upset of the balance caused by the fall of Dál Riata caused major shifts in political considerations. The money flowing from the fur encouraged Kings to spend excess funds on ensuring the loyalty of their warriors. Bands of men in Ireland traveled from kingdom to kingdom, advertising their strength and skill in a potential war. Ireland was beginning to tip towards war.
But war would not come to Ireland- it would come to the Insulam.
The cause was simple- the Kings of Ailech, bitter that the other kings of Ireland had done their best to elbow into “their” trade, encouraged their Company to do what it could to disrupt the efforts of the others present. This was done out of business considerations; by making a bad year for other Companies, perhaps a few extra profits would be made.
The Fánaithe of Ailech, interpreting these orders as a simple smash and grab, began to make an effort to locate and steal stashes of furs belonging to other companies. When this was discovered, it triggered outrage from the other Companies of Fánaithe. While the theft of furs was always a worry, it had generally been carried out by individuals, not on an organized scale.
Tensions continued to rise over 607, and spilled over during the winter. Almost every Fánaí lived in “Peace Town” for the winter, living off salted fish and confessing sins to the monks. Mostly however, they drank themselves silly in smoky and short-roofed taverns that were built by enterprising Measctha. Unfortunately, drink and anger do not mix.
One of the Fánaí of Ailech wandered into the wrong tavern, which was thronged by Fánaithe of Connacht. All was quiet for a while, until one man of Connacht began to bellow that the Ailech Fánaí had taken his furs personally. The man of Ailech gave as good as he got, but the others began to join in. Finally, a thread snapped. The men of Connacht grabbed the man of Ailech and dragged him, first from the tavern, next from the boundaries of Peace Town. Then, they clubbed him to death.
This event triggered a feud between the men of Ailech and the men of Connacht. The other Companies began to align themselves with one camp or another. Despite Ailech’s Company having raided the stashes of various others, the actions of the men of Connacht were seen as heinous by those that held slight affinity to the men of the North.
Violence soon became a way of life across the Insulam. Armed guards were posted at stashes that became more and more hidden (archaeologists, as recent as 2014, reported finding the remnants of some of the more remote ones). Raids on camps became increasingly common, and every Fánaí on the island walked while constantly looking over his shoulder for ambush.
Only in Peace Town could a Fánaí feel safe. After the murder that set off the whole conflagration, Abbot Totnan began to organize a more formal militia to keep the peace. Comprised almost entirely of Measctha, the militiamen patrolled the crowded lanes of Peace Town with spears and staves, beating any feuding Fánaithe over the head until they relented and paid the fine for breaking the peace (paid in pelts).
This was the time that later Irish poets and authors would write about- the so-called High Heroic Period. Tales would be told centuries later, glorifying and embellishing the knife fights in creeks and the random arrows in the woods. These would capture Irish imaginations, even long after the events retold within them.
At the time, the stories also captured Irish imaginations, but also Irish attentions. Over time, as the fighting in the island grew more and more violent and became more and more of a cycle of blood. The Fánaithe, red-blooded Irish trappers that they were, fell into the pattern of blood feud and conflict that had dominated the Emerald Isle for centuries. Soon, the men had forgotten almost entirely about the reason they were there and engaged in stratagems for war, blinded by a desire for revenge against those who wronged them.
That meant that, piece by piece, the fur trade on the island ground to a halt.
This was the opposite effect that the Kings of Ailech had wanted; this was the opposite effect that all of the petty Kings had wanted. This helped the Irish kings learn how much they truly appreciated the extra funds that the trade brought into their coffers. Orders sent via boat to the Companies failed to effectivly change the minds of the men on the Insulam. Often the couriers had to fight for berths; relatives of those killed on the island, adventurers, poets, and others were sailing to the Insulam to engage in the great contest.
By 620, the one thing all the kings could agree on was that the war on the Insulam had gone on for too long. Turning to the church, the kings petitioned for intervention from the bishops of the two great Christian centers of Armagh and Cashel (Ailech to Armagh, Connacht to Cashel). The two bishops talked to each other, agreeing that the fighting on the Insulam was pointless, as well as cutting into their donations from the less-rich coffers of the kings.
Therefore, in 620, the Bishop of Armagh, Congus, sailed to the Insulam for an ecclesiastical visit to Brendan’s Monastery. Upon arrival, he would call for the Companies to come to the monastery and sit down and talk.
This marked the highest extent of Irish control over the Insulam; it would also mark the end of the High Heroic Age. For the Bishop of Armagh sought to end the violence and restore the trade for the good of all in Ireland.
By 607, there had been almost thirty years of competition between the Companies on the island. While this competition had been mostly expressed by the occasional fight over who controlled access to what bits of territory where fur was to be found. This violence claimed little more than a few lives, and was mostly the sort of violence expressed by men in a hardscrabble line of work. They were not the results of orders from higher authority.
In 607, however, tensions between the various petty Kings back in Ireland reached a boiling point. The upset of the balance caused by the fall of Dál Riata caused major shifts in political considerations. The money flowing from the fur encouraged Kings to spend excess funds on ensuring the loyalty of their warriors. Bands of men in Ireland traveled from kingdom to kingdom, advertising their strength and skill in a potential war. Ireland was beginning to tip towards war.
But war would not come to Ireland- it would come to the Insulam.
The cause was simple- the Kings of Ailech, bitter that the other kings of Ireland had done their best to elbow into “their” trade, encouraged their Company to do what it could to disrupt the efforts of the others present. This was done out of business considerations; by making a bad year for other Companies, perhaps a few extra profits would be made.
The Fánaithe of Ailech, interpreting these orders as a simple smash and grab, began to make an effort to locate and steal stashes of furs belonging to other companies. When this was discovered, it triggered outrage from the other Companies of Fánaithe. While the theft of furs was always a worry, it had generally been carried out by individuals, not on an organized scale.
Tensions continued to rise over 607, and spilled over during the winter. Almost every Fánaí lived in “Peace Town” for the winter, living off salted fish and confessing sins to the monks. Mostly however, they drank themselves silly in smoky and short-roofed taverns that were built by enterprising Measctha. Unfortunately, drink and anger do not mix.
One of the Fánaí of Ailech wandered into the wrong tavern, which was thronged by Fánaithe of Connacht. All was quiet for a while, until one man of Connacht began to bellow that the Ailech Fánaí had taken his furs personally. The man of Ailech gave as good as he got, but the others began to join in. Finally, a thread snapped. The men of Connacht grabbed the man of Ailech and dragged him, first from the tavern, next from the boundaries of Peace Town. Then, they clubbed him to death.
This event triggered a feud between the men of Ailech and the men of Connacht. The other Companies began to align themselves with one camp or another. Despite Ailech’s Company having raided the stashes of various others, the actions of the men of Connacht were seen as heinous by those that held slight affinity to the men of the North.
Violence soon became a way of life across the Insulam. Armed guards were posted at stashes that became more and more hidden (archaeologists, as recent as 2014, reported finding the remnants of some of the more remote ones). Raids on camps became increasingly common, and every Fánaí on the island walked while constantly looking over his shoulder for ambush.
Only in Peace Town could a Fánaí feel safe. After the murder that set off the whole conflagration, Abbot Totnan began to organize a more formal militia to keep the peace. Comprised almost entirely of Measctha, the militiamen patrolled the crowded lanes of Peace Town with spears and staves, beating any feuding Fánaithe over the head until they relented and paid the fine for breaking the peace (paid in pelts).
This was the time that later Irish poets and authors would write about- the so-called High Heroic Period. Tales would be told centuries later, glorifying and embellishing the knife fights in creeks and the random arrows in the woods. These would capture Irish imaginations, even long after the events retold within them.
At the time, the stories also captured Irish imaginations, but also Irish attentions. Over time, as the fighting in the island grew more and more violent and became more and more of a cycle of blood. The Fánaithe, red-blooded Irish trappers that they were, fell into the pattern of blood feud and conflict that had dominated the Emerald Isle for centuries. Soon, the men had forgotten almost entirely about the reason they were there and engaged in stratagems for war, blinded by a desire for revenge against those who wronged them.
That meant that, piece by piece, the fur trade on the island ground to a halt.
This was the opposite effect that the Kings of Ailech had wanted; this was the opposite effect that all of the petty Kings had wanted. This helped the Irish kings learn how much they truly appreciated the extra funds that the trade brought into their coffers. Orders sent via boat to the Companies failed to effectivly change the minds of the men on the Insulam. Often the couriers had to fight for berths; relatives of those killed on the island, adventurers, poets, and others were sailing to the Insulam to engage in the great contest.
By 620, the one thing all the kings could agree on was that the war on the Insulam had gone on for too long. Turning to the church, the kings petitioned for intervention from the bishops of the two great Christian centers of Armagh and Cashel (Ailech to Armagh, Connacht to Cashel). The two bishops talked to each other, agreeing that the fighting on the Insulam was pointless, as well as cutting into their donations from the less-rich coffers of the kings.
Therefore, in 620, the Bishop of Armagh, Congus, sailed to the Insulam for an ecclesiastical visit to Brendan’s Monastery. Upon arrival, he would call for the Companies to come to the monastery and sit down and talk.
This marked the highest extent of Irish control over the Insulam; it would also mark the end of the High Heroic Age. For the Bishop of Armagh sought to end the violence and restore the trade for the good of all in Ireland.
- Rognvald
- Word Count: 1.1k