Everyone knows that historically Ireland has had a tumultuous relationship with England, but that didn't start until the 1100 when one of the deposed Irish kings appealed to King Henry II of England for help. As what commonly happens when a foreign troop is allowed in, they just stay there and conquer the country themselves.

Several years later, Henry decided to have his son John made King of Ireland. To solidify this, he sent John there to meet with the local leaders, hear their petitions, and gain their loyalty. One person in his retinue was Gerald of Wales, who chronicled what he saw. Gerald is a tricky person for historians. See, his family were some of the initial invaders and he wanted to portray the Irish as uncivilized and requiring English sovereignty, but like Jordanes he still provides important source material that historians need.

I haven't read anything of his until recently, and my first impression is this: He basically went bar hopping the entire time and wrote down any fantastical story he heard over a beer. Oddly enough, in a book filled with anecdotes about women fucking goats or beavers biting their own testicles off, this was my favorite passage:

Wolves in Ireland generally have their young in December, either because of the extreme mildness of the climate, or rather as a symbol of the evils of treachery and plunder which here blossom before their season. ^*

I just love how he put these into such extremes: "Well, it could be that wolves give birth early because the weather isn't so bad in Ireland compared to other places. Or it just may be because there is evil always in this country." I can't get over it. How do you reach that conclusion? Surely there needs to be a step in between that. Like, just use that logic with anything else: "Well, I lose my keys often. It may be because I have a poor memory or am disorganized. Or it may be because I have an evil soul. Either one, really."

^* Gerald of Wales, The History and Topography of Ireland, translated by John J. O'Meara (New York: Penguin Books, 1982), 77.