In 1207 William Marshal, now Earl of Pembroke, and his Countess Isabel could at last turn their attention to the needs of the province of Leinster.

A town was planned on the River Barrow, which would fulfil their ambition to open the province up to new avenues of trade at an international level. The illustrious William was in a position to acquire the services of ship-builders, merchants and bankers to develop the various aspects of the port to European standards, and they swiftly ensured that the natural advantages of the area of Ros Mic Treon on the mighty river were fully exploited. Arterial waterways, the Nore and the Suir, fed into the Barrow estuary allowing water traffic to stretch from the midlands to the sea. Bankers from prominent Italian companies set up financial centres, offering loans, facilitating exports and investing in futures, the latter largely in wool-clips. Wool was the most important single export from the hinterland of Ros. In the centre of the panel, three bankers – a Frescobaldi, a Spini and a Riccardi, preside over the port’s financial affairs.

William Marshal’s stormy crossing to Ireland. Isabel de Clare, daughter and sole heiress of Richard Fitzgilbert de Clare, Earl of Pembroke, also inherited the province of Leinster through her grandfather Dermot McMurrough.

“The Damsel of Striquil” as she was known, was held as a ward of the Crown in the Tower of London from the tender age of four, where her person and her considerable estates were jealously guarded.

In 1189 Henry II gave her in marriage to his heroic and highly talented knight and champion, William Marshal, who, despite his indispensable presence at the side of the Plantagenet Kings for many years, had little material possessions. In 1200, William finally achieved permission from the distrustful King John to set sail for Ireland with his wife and children, two of his sons being held hostage in England by John. During the voyage, a violent storm erupted in the Irish Sea, threatening to overwhelm the Marshal’s ship and the accompanying flotilla carrying horses, servants and supplies.

In the panel, William is seen comforting a daughter and standing in the eye of the storm vowing that were they spared, he would build a Cistercian abbey where the ship made landfall. And so it came to pass. Tintern (Minor – to distinguish it from the earlier abbey in Wales) came to be built in Saltmills, south Wexford, in a sylvan setting, by a small stream.

In the wild and beautiful country around his new ville, William knew that one of the many glories of Leinster was virgin hunting forests teeming with wildlife.

His MacMurrough cousins by marriage would have taken him and Isabel on forays through woodlands and marshes, delighting in demonstrating the skills that needed to be learnt in negotiating Irish terrain.

William’s own family, the Marshals, had horses at the core of their existence. They were traditionally responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of the King’s stables. His father was known as John the Marshal, the official title of that office. Common ground between Gael and Norman would have thus been struck and much camaraderie would grow from discussions on the source of the best hounds, horses and hunting lore.

It is said that it was Isabel, Countess of Pembroke, who was responsible for the building of the church of St. Mary’s, New Ross. Positioned high above the town, and of unusually large dimensions, it was the grandest of the early Irish gothic churches. Its cathedral-like presence reflected the level of importance attached to the town itself.

In the panel, William Marshal can be seen, mounted and perusing some draft drawings, aided by a scholastic monk. Artisans and stone carvers are working on the dogtooth decorations and disembodied heads for the church interior. Isabel leans over a mapping table, but towering above the busy scene is the spirit of Dermot who says “I did this”.

This panel depicts the enthronement of a Celtic King. Parts of the elaborate ritual closely resemble similar ceremonies known in India until the eighteenth century. An absolute union between the King – a divine personage and the white mare, who represented the earth goddess, was essential to ensure that she, the all-powerful natural spirit, would smile on his reign. If crops were poor or if disease struck, the King was invariably held to account.

The ceremony therefore was of the most intense solemnity. Held in a sacred wood and presided over by the druid caste, who waits to robe the King and hand him his white wand, it was watched in awe by the surrounding warriors.