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Chapter 4.3: Muirchu
and his sources
Fabio P.
Barbieri
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We must separate Patrician dates
depending on the legend of Loegaire - and which,
therefore, are certain to be legendary - from
those that are not, and therefore have a chance
of being historical. One such group of data
is that which places Patrick's death in the early
years of Loegaire's reign, including the
notorious 457 death date in the Annals of Ulster
and the Chronicon Scottorum; others, found
in various Irish annals, include Palladius
landing and death, the death dates of some of
Patricks collaborators (Secundinus,
446/7/8, 427 to 450; Auxilius, 454/59/60;
Iserninus, 465/68/69; Benignus, 467/8, in Rome
according to one source), and Patricks probatio
at the hands of Pope Leo. Other Patrician
data are preserved in a hymn of praise attributed
to his colleague Secundinus, and in the so-called
Lives of the saint, which belong to a
hagiographic genre so unlike our idea of
biography that scholars tend to use the Latin
name Vita, Vitae to underline their
distance from an ordinary English Life and
letters of
The first of these to survive, and
the one on which the others all seem based
especially in their Palladian
sections- is the Life of
St.Patrick written in 683 by Muirchu, a
Leinster churchman, on the orders of Aed, bishop
of Sletty. Writing Saints' lives may have
been something of a family tradition, since
Muirchu's father, or perhaps spiritual father,
seems to have been the Cogitosus who was the
author of a popular Life of St.Brigid. Brigid,
however, was an obvious subject for a clergyman
from Leinster, whose warlike and well-loved
patroness the "Saint" was; Patrick, the
great saint of Ulster, was a less likely subject,
and it has been suggested that the book was part
of a complex diplomatic manoeuvre to draw the
still schismatic North into the Roman Catholic
church by acknowledging the primacy of Armagh,
the see of St.Patrick's successors and the
North's greatest bishopric, in exchange for
Armagh's adhesion to Rome. Anyway, Muirchu
was an outsider rather than a member of the
Armagh succession with its Patrician claims, and
may have suffered less from the lust to glorify
Patrick at all costs.
For the first surviving biography
of such a great saint, Muirchu's work is modest
indeed, an introduction and 41 short chapters,
some of them barely a paragraph long, occupying
no more than 14 pages in a modern edition. But its very size
lends it credibility. Muirchu leaves the
impression that he really has restricted himself
to existing accounts, and that even where his
material is obviously legendary, it is not
freshly made up. The range of miracles
attributed to the saint is far more modest than
the nine men raised from the dead, nor his
learning as awesome as the 365 alphabets, that
Nennius thrust on him! This, I think,
really is what a conscientious outside
investigator was able to find out about Patrick
in about 685.
Nevertheless the vast majority of
what he tells of the Saint is fantasy, whether or
not dependent on any historical reality. Luckily
all his most determinedly unhistorical material
is set in Ireland, and the only part of his
account I intend to defend is the story of
Patrick's life up to his consecration as Bishop,
set overseas in Britain and Gaul.
Muirchu knew that Patrick was
British; he had read the Confession,
though not the Letter to Coroticus; and
his account bristles with tempting material about
Palladius, St.Germanus, Pope Celestine, Gaul and
Britain, for which we have no other source (bar a
number of later Lives arguably derived from him),
but which seems to fit only too well with the few
data known to us from Patrick, Prosper and
Constantius. We know from the
unchallengeable contemporary authority of Prosper
that Palladius was the first Bishop of the Irish,
sent by Pope Celestine; Muirchu tells us that he
achieved little and, within a year, died in
Britain, and that Patrick, hearing of his
failure, was consecrated bishop by "bishop
Amatorex", a neighbour of St.Germanus of
Auxerre (at whose feet Patrick had been studying
as a priest for years), and came to take his
place.
Do these stories have any
grounding in history? Without committing
himself, Dumville leaves the impression of
thinking not, and I think it is fair to say that
most scholars would agree. Nobody denies
that Irish historical sources up to at least the
late sixth century are thoroughly unreliable, and
that even after that, dates and lines of descent
were pawed about in what seems to us a most
unscrupulous manner every time a new dynasty or
an ambitious monastery wanted to assert a claim.
The burden of proof is on any historian wanting
to use Muirchu, or any other Irish source, as
factual evidence for anything whatever before the
600s; it is safer to relegate them to the dustbin
marked "informative for the age they were
written in, not for the age they describe",
and in most cases I would do exactly that. But
in the case of Muirchu - and of the annalistic
sources that seem to preserve other traditions
about Patrick and Palladius - I intend to argue
that the close fit with Prosper, however tempting
and "too good to be true", is not
misleading, and that Muirchu's account of
Patrick's early years includes a considerable
amount of history and derives, however huge its
misunderstandings, from an ultimate historical
source.
Muirchu mentions the existence of
several earlier Patrician texts, of which only
two have come down to us: Patrick's own Confession
and the seventh-century "Book of the
Angel", Liber Angueli, a legendary
account of Patrick's death whose main point is to
place a summary of the claims of Armagh in the
mouth of an angel, as a sort of inheritance from
the dying Patrick to Armagh "the land he
loved most in all the world". Muirchu
seems to have had a source somewhat like it
but not the same for Patricks
death. His other Patrician sources are
quite lost, and even Muirchus text we only
have in a deplorable condition: only a few
manuscripts survive, each of which - to simplify
- lacks some considerable part of the whole, so
that the complete Vita Patricii can only
be reconstructed by fitting together the various
parts. I suppose we should be grateful for
having it at all.
It can fortunately be
reconstructed pretty accurately, falling into a
clear structure according to the old Italian
formula for hagiography - vita, morte e
miracoli; "life, death and
miracles", each of which is a separate and
equally important stage. By the standard of
worldly biography, the life of any Saint tends to
give a disproportionate amount of space to his
death, to prove that the protagonist died in a
state of Grace and therefore could be regarded as
a Saint; and it is followed by a list of miracles
performed post mortem, since those
miracles are evidence of sanctity the
Church, to this day, requires evidence of at
least two miracles for any process of
canonization.
Now Muirchus story of the
Saints death is a clear narrative that
shows some points in common with the Liber
Angueli, and whose internal consistency does
not seem to demand more than one source (2.4-9).
Even more clearly, his first chapters (1.1-4,7)
are lifted almost directly from Patrick's Confession,
with no more alteration than is needed to rework
the Saint's allusive enumeration of points into a
continuing narrative. The only independent
statements are the identification of Patrick's
home town, and the name of his mother Concessa.
The latter (unlike many other supposed members of
Patricks family in other Irish sources) is
a perfectly credible Roman ladys name; the
former is Muirchus own work. He
complains of the confused and dubious nature of
his sources, but claims with some pride to have
been able to establish his birthplace beyond
reasonable doubt.
My point is that if we add what we
have found out about the legend of Loegaire to
the dossier, we come to the conclusion that three
parts of Muirchus work come, in effect,
from unified sources; and that they appear in the
work itself as largely solid blocks. The
story of the Saints death (2.4-9) comes
from a source similar to the Liber Angueli;
that of his early years (1.1-4, 1.7) from the Confession;
and now we find that the period from his taking
sail to Ireland to his defeat of Loegaire
(1.10-22) is also a unified story with a
beginning, a middle and an end, which must count
as a unit and almost certainly comes from one
source, probably written, and perhaps with
variants, but at any rate certainly not gathered
from separate accounts. And when we examine
the whole book in the light of these findings, we
also notice that the two areas left over show
signs of substantial unity. Before and
after the story of Patricks death (1.23-29,
2.1-3, 2.10-12) we find a collection of miracle
stories of varying origin and authority, one of
which, in my view, may originate in the
Saints actual lifetime, while another, that of
Maccuill Moccugreccae, can be dated to the 580s
(see Appendix 5). The common feature of
these passages is that, though they show signs of
disparate origins and significance, they are all
isolated miracle stories with no relevance to
larger wholes (save for the story of the
foundation of Armagh). All the miracle stories,
apart from those which are pertinent to the duel
with Loegaire and the Saints death, are
gathered in these chapters; none are on record
before the fire at Tara. No doubt this
reflects the existence of a collection of lesser
Patrician mirabilia, possibly gathered from
several sources for Muirchus benefit.
In other words, we have good
grounds to believe that Muirchu worked,
essentially, by welding together major blocks of
information, derived from separate texts or
groups of texts, with as much editing as was
necessary to make one single narrative out of
them. For instance, he placed the vision of
Victoricus away from the rest of his Confession-derived
material, because it was chronologically to be
placed in a later period. The list of
miracles sounds like it was assembled from
several sources, but all the other items come
from single major sources which can be identified
with some certainty.
Now, just as the struggle with
Loegaire with its antefacts, and the miracle
collection, show signs of substantial unity, so
too does the one group of chapters not yet
covered, chs. 1.5-6, 8-9. Featuring no
miracles, they tell the story of Patrick from his
return from slavery to his consecration as
bishop. They are close to the Confession-derived
material not only in time but in character, to
the point that Muirchu feels confident enough to
edit them together; it is probably the case that,
just as the story of Victoricus, derived from the
Confession, is stranded among this group of
passages, so the notice of the name of
Patricks mother, placed at the head of the Confession-derived
chapters, may come from it. (In fact, if
we take this group of chapters to have some
grounding in history[8], there is no reason why
there should not be some overlap between the
source for these passages and the Confession,
in such matters as, for instance, the names of
Patricks relatives.)
We have a marker for Muirchu's use
of sources: his handling of Patrick's Confession.
And it is clear from comparisons between his
source and his text that he was a most faithful
transcriber. He did not quite copy it out,
since he was writing a straightforward narrative
quite alien to its form; but he made use of
words, expressions, sentences and groups of
sentences virtually unchanged, and where he did,
it was to make Patrick's expressions clearer.
Patrick describes his flight from his Irish
owner: "Ecce nauis tua parata est".
Et non erat prope, sed forte habebat ducenta
milia passus, et ibi numquam fueram... This
is Muirchu's version: "Ecce nauis tua
parata est"; quae non
erat prope, sed forte habebat ducenta milia passuum,
ubi numquam habuerat
iter... He does nothing more than
strengthen his connectives, change an expression,
and alter the case of passus to a genitive
plural; in every case, clarifying and improving
Patricks Latin. For instance, Patrick's et
non erat prope is insufficient; it might
refer either to the bodiless voice or to the
ship; so Muirchu quite rightly replaces it with
the feminine nominative singular quae,
which vigorously points to the feminine
nominative singular nauis parata and away
from the masculine accusative singular responsum.
In other words, these corrections and alterations
are conscientious and rather necessary: far from
pointing to any wish to monkey about with
Patrick, they depend on a desire to make his
words more intelligible (with which plenty of
succeeding readers and translators of the Saint
will sympathize).
What is more, comparison with the
Confession shows that Muirchu does not embroider
or add. There is a touch of the charlatan
in the way he suggests that he could say much
more about Patrick's journey home, while in fact
he only repeats everything Patrick himself had to
say; but he is faithful to
his source point by point. He only ever
deviates either to include biblical parallels
(often badly chosen) or because he misunderstood
his source, or both. He is not a clever
man, and his religiosity is conventional, which
leads to serious misrepresentations. For
instance, he calls Victoricus an angel, and he
claims that he had visited Patrick in several
visions in Ireland and Britain. Patrick; on the
other hand, makes it clear that he believed he
had experienced the presence of the Trinity in
waking visions, and speaks of Victoricus as a
man (if a heroic man, uirum)
whom he had seen once, not in a waking vision,
but in a dream. This savours of a
correction in the name of an emanationist
philosophy like that of the pseudo-Aeropagite, in which God does not
manifest Himself directly in this world, even
when He seems to do so, but acts through orders
of angelic beings; Muirchu seems to take it for
granted that Patrick could only have seen angels
not God and when he finds Patrick
mentioning one individual by name, he assumes
that this is the angel in question.
In the same vein of adequating
Patricks views to his own, Muirchu comments
that his escape after six years of slavery is more
hebraico, according to Jewish law, alluding
to the liberation of Jewish slaves on the seventh
(sabbatical) year; not noting the small matter
that this is a law for Jewish slaves of Jewish
masters, not for a Jewish (Christian) slave of a
pagan master: evidently, as a well-born Irishman
whose family or tribe no doubt owned slaves, he
is not very happy about Patrick simply cutting
and running bad example, tut-tut
and has to explain it away with a Biblical
precedent, however ill-chosen. When Patrick
and his stranded pagan shipmates find swine and
honey to eat, Muirchu mentions John the Baptist's
feeding on wild honey, while he says that the
swine (a base beast) were suited to the baseness
of the pagan sailors; a comment that is not only
unworthy of their kindness to Patrick, but also
out of keeping with the fact that Patrick
apparently ate of the pork but not of the honey,
since it was the latter that was a heathen
sacrifice! Muirchu gets out of the
difficulty by asserting that Patrick ate nothing
all the way; not only a superhuman feat, but an
unnecessary one. Clearly, we are far from
the power and pertinency with which both Gildas
and Patrick himself use biblical imagery; to
Muirchu, it does not matter how well an image
fits as long as there is the slightest excuse to
bring it into play.
But apart from this expression of
flatly conventional religiosity and social
ideals, a failure to come to grips with the real
greatness of his subject which is at any rate not
at all untypical of biographers of all ages,
Muirchus faithfulness to the Confession
is in fact quite remarkable, almost
word-for-word. We can, therefore, expect
fidelity in such things as ethnic and place
names; and in fact that is exactly what we find.
Bannauem Taburniae turns up just where we
expect it, though the abstruse foreign name of
St.Gemanus see of Autessiodorum
(Auxerre) forces a misspelling Alsiodorum.
Now Muirchu uses two nouns for
Patricks fatherland, Britain,
and two adjectives for his nationality,
British : the singular noun Britannia
as well as plural Britanniae, and the
adjective britannicus as well as britto. Both passages
where he uses the noun Britannis are close
and complementary to places where he uses the
adjective Brito: Patrick is Brito
natione in Britannis natus, and Palladius
dies in Britonum finibus... in Britannis:
that is, in Britanniis. Patrick was
"of the British nation, born in the
Britains" and Palladius died "within
the borders of the British... in the
Britains". We may assume that Britanniae
and Brito go together as noun and
adjective.
Now, as I pointed out, the use of
the plural noun Britanniae for post-Roman
Britain is a clear marker for the date of a Latin
item; a few fourth-century writers speak of the Britanniae;
practically all fifth-century writers -
St.Patrick, Constantius of Lyons, the Gallic
Chronicles do so; but no sixth-century one
does. It follows that, where Muirchu uses
this plural, he is using an archaic fifth-century
form, and the fact that, unlike Gildas (and, for
that matter, Procopius), he does not understand
it, suggests that he is quoting,
uncomprehendingly, fifth-century material. Britanniae
did carry on a sort of ghostly half-life in the
writings of Constantius of Lyons and A.
We can reverse the argument for
the adjectives Britannicus and Brito,
which, disregarding the phantasmal Britannus,
are the only words Muirchu uses to describe
people or things from Britain. Brito,
as we have seen, is the counterpart of Britanniae
and must share its fifth-century connotations.
Can we therefore say that the use of Britannicus
signals a later source, closer to Muirchu in
time? Yes we can. Britannicus
is Muirchu's description of Coroticus, a person
of whom Muirchu knew - in terms of historical
knowledge - nothing at all except that he lived
in Britain. He reports an apparently
simple-minded miracle story (1.29) in which the infaustus
crudelisque tyrannus Coroticus is publicly
transformed into an animal and never seen again.
The original author of the story (whom I do not
take to be Muirchu) had never read the Letter,
since he does not seem to realize, what every
reader must, that Coroticus was not a pagan, but
a nominal Christian whom Patrick wanted
excommunicated for slaughter and enslavement of
fellow-Christians. That is, this chapter is
an attempt to make sense of an event in the
Saint's life of which the author only knew a
couple of points, Coroticus' nationality, and the
nature of his crime (enslaving Christians), and
perhaps the curious title Rex Aloo,
bestowed on Coroticus by the headings of
Muirchu's book.
Evidently, this tradition
developed quite separately from the Letter:
I mean, in a quite separate place from where the Letter
was preserved. In the headings, the
villain's name is given as Coirtech rex Aloo,
and, according to Dumville. "the form Coirtech...
is what would be expected in Old Irish if the
name had developed naturally in Irish from the
fifth century" Many scholars read
Rex Aloo as King of Alclud (=Dumbarton,
Strathclyde), and identify him with one Cerictic
Gwledig, who turns up in an apparently reliable
(at least up to the late 500s) genealogy of the
kings of Strathclyde. The
identification, though not proven, is eminently
believable, and it is certain that out-of-context
names and titles are among the data that survived
longest (as for instance in the case of
Constantine III and Constans), and will be found
time and again to be the one historical feature
in unhistorical accounts. The name and
title of Coroticus survived where no narrative
did; until, to make sense of these bodiless data,
they were written into a miracle story by someone
who had never read the Letter.
This miracle story fits into a
clear frame of ideas about Britain that we have
found not in Patrick, but in Gildas. What
animal is Coroticus turned into? A little
fox: in fact, a volpecula the word
is the same. And before he is that, he is
defined by the Gildasian words infaustus
tyrannus. We remember that, to Gildas,
British tyranni as a category were
descended from the perfidi who
treacherously murdered the Roman envoys and were
then hunted down like - exactly - volpeculae,
little foxes; and that the infaustus tyrannus
(not Coroticus, but Vortigern) was the worst of
their descendants. Clearly, whoever
composed the fable had Gildas' categories - or,
perhaps, A's - not only firm but clear in mind.
Coroticus is reduced to his essential component:
a small, thieving animal, hated and hunted down
by Britain's true masters. Except that the
Romans do not appear in this fable; their place
is taken by Patrick and by his God. The
first Romans, by the power of their weapons, had
reduced the perfidi to mean little foxes
to be hunted down; Patrick and his God, by the
power of sacred word and song, had done the same
in an even more spectacular manner. This
seems closely connected to the fact that, as I
have pointed out, A sees God taking up the
semantic space of the Romans, offering the royal
functions of protection and defence without the
intolerable burden of Roman ius. Here,
God and St.Patrick occupy a part of the same
semantic space, reducing perfidi tumidi
crudeles infausti tyranni - or at least one
of them - to vermin.
It must follow that the story is
later than Gildas, or at least than A, for this
extraordinary mix of ideas and images must have
had time to develop in the most unexpected ways.
It also shows that what is obscure to us may have
been as clear as daylight to the great writer's
followers, who may have developped their own
interpretative literature. By Muirchu's
time, this literature may have become to some
extent detached from its original, since he seems
to take for historical reality what may have
originally been some sort of apologue or
illustration of specifically British ideas (its
specifically British dimension is clear even in
the form in which we have it).
Whatever the case may be, the
story is much closer in time to Muirchu than to
Patrick or Coroticus, and when we find it using
the adjective Britannicus rather than Britto
of Coroticus, this testifies to the date of its
usage. That Britannicus has a
similar relationship to Britannia as Britto
to Britanniae is harder to prove, but it
can be demonstrated that they both are used in
passages that must be later in time than the
early chapters with their Brittones and Britanniae.
We can use another Muirchu miracle story as
comparison: chapter 27, the story of Saint
Monesan.
Monesan, the daughter of a pagan
British king, refuses to be married (in spite of
savage punishment) and asks to be told who it was
who made the sun. Eventually she is taken
to St.Patrick in Ireland, sees God - Who, it
seems, visits the saint every seventh day - is baptized, and
promptly dies; not a misfortune, this, but an
instant transition to the joys of Paradise, as
well as, on this earth, to the rank and power of
a Saint. Muirchu testifies that Monesan
received cult in his time.
The connection between not wanting
to marry and wanting to know "who made the
sun" seems unclear to us, but it is clearly
Patrician. Patrick, who challenged the
worshippers of the Sun with the news that the sun
was a material object, perishable and doomed to
die, created by another Power greater than
itself, also fostered and favoured monasticism,
and his prize nun was a king's daughter. It
is all in his writings (Confession 41, 42;
Letter, 12). He gives a clear hint
of the violent pressures to which young women
were subjected in the attempt not to let them
give away their valuable marriageable status (...non
sponte patrum earum, sed et persecutiones
patiuntur et improperia falsa a parentibus suis...
"not by their fathers' wish, but they suffer
both persecution and false insults from their own
parents..."), fleshed out in Muirchus
account of Monesan being beaten and doused with
cold water. If arranged dynastic marriage
could be forced on unwilling brides with such
ferocity, this explains the popularity of
monastic vows among royal women in early
mediaeval Europe: they must have felt marriage
and sex as vicious, violating, degrading, foul,
and virginity, by contrast, as a clean,
undegraded form of life. But the connection
between a thirst for virginity (or, at least, a
revulsion against marriage) and the question
"who made the sun?" is uniquely
Patrician; it ties together two things of which
he wrote with power and passion, and it is so
peculiar that it seems difficult to attach it to
any definite Church teaching. It is
orthodox but individual, and can only be traced
back to the teachings of this one saint. It
seems to bear to his writings the same
relationship that ch.29's story of Coroticus does
to those of Gildas or A: a sort of
narrative/figurative development or gloss of some
of the writer's more typical ideas.
These two stories also have a
similar and similarly unhistorical idea of
Britain. In ch.29, Coroticus is a pagan
persecuting Christians; in ch.27, all of Britain
is "frozen in the chill of unbelief". It is
interesting that the fable removes the problems
of Patrick's Irish princess, aspiring at once to
conversion and to the monastic life, from their
native soil in Ireland to a pretended British
setting. This is probably because the
supposed St.Monesan was known to be a Briton; but
it may be that the strange idea that Britain, in
Patrick's time, was as pagan as Ireland, had been
encouraged by the picture of Coroticus as a pagan
British king, in which case the story of Monesan
may be even later than that of Coroticus (and
therefore later than a sixth-century writer like
Gildas). At the very least, it is its
contemporary to it; it belongs in the same mental
world, and is similarly ignorant of the realities
of the Patrician fifth century. Both
stories may have been written in Muirchu's
lifetime, and at least are closer to him than to
Patrick, perhaps even Gildas - would anyone in
Gildas' time have thought that "all
Britain" was, only a century before,
"frozen in the chill of unbelief?"
Gildas definitely does not; in fact, he believes
that Christianity was the majority religion of
Britain even before the Diocletian persecution
(303-310AD).
Therefore - and this is the point
I had been leading up to - when we find the story
using the singular Britannia for Monesan's
country, this confirms that the plural Britanniae
was not a part of Muirchu's contemporary usage,
and also strongly suggests that a similar
difference existed between Britto, used in
the earliest chapters for Patrick's nationality
and the finibus within which Palladius
died, and Britannicus, used for Coroticus
in the other fable. Now Palladius dies in
Britannis (obviously in Britanniis)
and in finibus Britonum; Patrick was Brito
natione, in Britannis (Britanniis) natus.
These passages must originate in a period in
which Britto rather than Britannus
or Britannicus was the standard adjective
for British, and Britanniae rather than Britannia
the standard name for the country, specifically
for its Roman part. In other words, Muirchu
is quoting fifth-century documents; his very
blunders testify that he is, at this point,
moving among realities he does not understand.
These considerations establish the probability,
if not the absolute certainty, that Muirchu's
account of Patrick's middle years has something
to do with historical reality; and this even
before we start considering the actual story
Muirchu has to tell.
There is one last point I would
like to make before I leave the subject, the
thinnest, but also the most fascinating of all
the strands of evidence for the existence of
fifth-century material, other than Patrick's own
writings, in Muirchu's time. Muirchu
describes Patrick with a singularly inartistic
and unnecessary repetion: Brito natione in
Britannis natus, so graceless that we cannot
imagine Muirchu, a competent if fussy Latinist,
to have composed it. It repeats not only
the content, but almost the words. Natio
comes from the same root as natus, and Brito
from the same as Britannus (or Britanniae).
I think he was quoting from an earlier document,
and it sounds as though in Britanniis natus
was a gloss, a marginal note, explaining Brito
natione. This means that the document
that reported his nationality was old enough to
have its own marginal notes, which in turn were
old enough to still use Britanniae as the
standard word for Britain.
Indeed, we may go a bit further:
the gloss in Britanniis natus on Brito
natione is so elementary as not to count as a
proper gloss, an explanation of the terms. And
what this suggests to me is that it has to do
with the teaching of Latin at a fairly elementary
level, one at which students should be made aware
that it is possible to render the nominative plus
ablative of origin brito natione with the
preposition plus locative ablative plus past
participle nominative in Britanniis natus.
Brito varies Britanniis (Britanniae)
and natione (natio) varies natus:
on these simple variations a few useful
grammatical lessons may be taught on the nature
of root and stem, on verb, adjective and noun, on
inflection, and on preposition (in).
The simplicity of the grammar lessons involved,
however, is not in keeping with the fine Latin
scholarship found in Ireland by the time of
Columbanus (580s).
What follows, I admit, is nearer
guesswork than evidence: but I do not think that
a record of someone as important as St.Patrick -
a serious record, consulted by a serious
researcher like Muirchu - would carry the signs
of elementary Latin lessons unless it had been
compiled and used at a time when Latin
scholarship in the country was at a fairly
elementary level, and there was little of it.
One does not expect to find the Latin of, say,
Gildas or Thomas Aquinas or Samuel Johnson to
involve this sort of schoolroom variations; no,
not even that of Nennius. I think it bears
witness to a very primitive state of the Irish
church, a frontier constituency tied to the Latin
West by the thinnest of threads; a state we
cannot imagine after the 550s, when such
refinements as annalistic traditions and
knowledge of Greek are in place.
We know from our reading of the Confession
that Muirchu would copy prose virtually verbatim,
and we can therefore accept that the clumsy
wording Brito natione in Britannis natus
could be from a previous document. He would
not, either, have misread Britanniis, an
archaic form, unless he had set out to copy
verbatim an item he did not understand. There
is no reason to doubt he kept close to his
original.
This has laid the groundwork.
Not all of Muirchu is reliable by any means, and
most or all of what he says of Patrick's career
in Ireland is purely legendary. But the
early chapters, full of telltale
misunderstandings and of the archaic words britto
and Britanniae, have a claim to our
attention: the stories of Patrick's education by
Germanus of Auxerre, his consecration by bishop
"Amatorex", and Palladius' journey and
death, must be regarded as far earlier in origin
than the tales of his miracles, his confrontation
with High King Loegaire, or his settlement of the
site of Armagh.
What is more, there is no
indication whatever that a legend of
St.Patricks birth, youth and education
existed. Nothing of what Muirchu has to say
about the Saints early days has anything to
do with the well-known, one might almost say
catalogued, Celtic features of the youth of
legendary heroes and saints, even what does not
depend on the Saints own account of
himself. We have seen that the legendary
material begins with Patrick's encounter with
Loegaire, or, to be precise, with his arrival to
Ireland and his attempt to settle with Miliucc, a
necessary prelude to the Tara episode - which is
legendary from beginning to end. In other words,
there was a legend of St.Patrick from the moment
of his supposed arrival in Ireland shortly before
Loegaire's feis Temro; but we have no
evidence for any legend of St.Patrick before that
moment. The data we do have, I will argue, are
history.
Notes
History
of Britain, 407-597 is copyright © 2002, Fabio
P. Barbieri. Used with permission.
Comments
to: Fabio P.
Barbieri
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