mother of heroes - Fitz-Geralds, Fitz-Stephens, and Fitz-Henries,
and others - who, regardless of their mother's eccentricity in the
choice of their fathers, united like brothers in the most
adventurous undertaking of that age, the Conquest of Ireland.

Though his mother was half Saxon and his father probably fully
Norman, Gerald, with a true instinct, described himself as a
"Welshman." His frank vanity, so naive as to be void of offence,
his easy acceptance of everything which Providence had bestowed on
him, his incorrigible belief that all the world took as much
interest in himself and all that appealed to him as he did himself,
the readiness with which he adapted himself to all sorts of men and
of circumstances, his credulity in matters of faith and his shrewd
common sense in things of the world, his wit and lively fancy, his
eloquence of tongue and pen, his acute rather than accurate
observation, his scholarship elegant rather than profound, are all
characteristic of a certain lovable type of South Walian. He was
not blind to the defects of his countrymen any more than to others
of his contemporaries, but the Welsh he chastised as one who loved
them. His praise followed ever close upon the heels of his
criticism. There was none of the rancour in his references to Wales
which defaces his account of contemporary Ireland. He was
acquainted with Welsh, though he does not seem to have preached it,
and another archdeacon acted as the interpreter of Archbishop
Baldwin's Crusade sermon in Anglesea. But he could appreciate the
charm of the Cynghanedd, the alliterative assonance which is still
the most distinctive feature of Welsh poetry. He cannot conceal his
sympathy with the imperishable determination of his countrymen to
keep alive the language which is their differentia among the nations
of the world. It is manifest in the story which he relates at the