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Chapter 4.4: The
chapter of the damned
Fabio P.
Barbieri
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A writer called Charles Fort,
still popular in some circles, once wrote an
essay called The book of the damned; the
"damned" being "data that science
had overlooked, ignored, or otherwise excluded
from science heaven". There aren't
enough such data about St.Patrick to fill a book;
but if not a book, at least a chapter of the
damned. Many are earlier than the Patrician
continuity which Carney exhibited but
misunderstood, and therefore likelier to have
something to do with the real, historical
St.Patrick - the man who did not confront King
Loegaire in Tara one Easter Day; who did not come
to Ireland from outside when he heard that
Palladius was dead; who was not the former slave
of Miliucc of Ulster; who did not condemn Maccuil
Moccugreccae to wandering the seas on a skiff
without oars until he should find the isle of
Man; who did not get his God to turn Coroticus
into a small fox - the anxious, harassed,
passionate, administratively incompetent,
undereducated but brilliantly communicative
preacher on whose shoulders the responsibility of
the Irish mission fell like a boulder.
The chapter of the damned,
1: Patrick and Amator
In point of fact, it has long been
recognized that these damned data
have a coherence of their own. Scholars
both ancient and modern have gathered them
together and held them to relate to
Patricks predecessor Palladius, often
identified as the first Patrick or
even called Palladius Patricius. The problem is
that there is not a smidgen of evidence for this.
Irish texts are unanimous that Palladius died
within a year of reaching Ireland, and not even
in the island, but in Britain, and that Patrick
succeeded him. And having decided against
the Carney scheme, whose sum of data adds up to
the second Patrick of ancient and
modern speculation, it behoves us to look at
these pseudo-Palladian data more
closely.
Muirchu says that Palladius came
to Ireland, failed to set up a church there, and,
on the way back, died in Britain. Three
Irish annals agree, giving the unfortunate first
bishop only a year; one rather dubious source -
none other than our old friend Nennius - claims
that he never reached Ireland at all. Two
Irish annals and some manuscripts of Muirchu make him die in the land
of the Picts, but the Armagh manuscript of
Muirchu and one other Life - the Vita tertia
- claim that he died in Britonum finibus.
This interesting expression seems to distinguish
the "boundaries of the Britons" from
other lands; it applies badly to an island such
as Britain, where the notion of fines is
inappropriate, but well to the actual political
situation in which a people which described
itself as the Brittones, identifying
itself with the great island, nevertheless
controlled only part of it. The alternative
reading that makes Palladius die among the Picts
could even mean that he actually met his end in
Ireland, among one of the Ulster tribes which,
though native, called themselves Cruithne -
Picts. Patrick based himself in Ulster,
though not among the Cruithne, and this might
have something to do with that.
But given the significant
variation between "the borders of the
Britons" and the land of the Picts, I find
it easier to guess at some connection with the
political division of Britain between post-Roman Britanniae
and the kingdom of the Picts, with the texts
wavering as to which side of the border the
bishop died on. Palladius' supposed date of
death corresponds with the very unsettled period
in which the Saxons were called in to resist a
threatened Pictish invasion. Palladius
might even have died at Pictish hands, but in
finibus Brittonum, during a raid. And
there is a fourth possibility: we know that about
this time a terrible plague ravaged Britain and
destroyed a significant part of the population.
If, on another occasion, we heard of a fit and
vigorous man, strong enough to travel to a far
country and take up a difficult job, suddenly
dying, just as a plague was ravaging the same
country in which he is said to have died, we
would know what to think. In short, we have
no reason not to believe in Palladius' early
death in Britain in 432 - there are plenty of
things he could have died of.
Muirchu is our earliest source for
the tradition that Palladius died early and was
succeeded by Patrick. There is however no
need to take everything he says at face value,
the more so since he immediately hits us with a
positive shower of howlers. According to
him, Patrick, who was not in Ireland, heard that
Palladius had died, and went to be consecrated
bishop by "bishop Amatorex", at the
request of Germanus of Auxerre, at whose feet he
had been learning Christian doctrine and
practised as a priest. Both these
statements are problematic. It is a very
frequent assumption that Patrick cannot have been
trained as a priest by the great Germanus. The
latter, it is implied, had a major role in
British history and was remembered in later
hagiography, and therefore - notice the
sequence - their association must have been
contrived and legendary. I may be
over-sensitive, but I cant help feeling the
universal prejudice against hagiography at play.
As I already said, the basic scholarly
assumption, once we unwrap its elegant language,
is that hagiography lies as a matter of course;
and I sense a reflection of that unthinking habit
of mind in the widespread view that, because
Germanus was a famous bishop with a famous
concern for Britain, therefore Patrick must have
been associated with him because of his
celebrity. Does this follow - or non
sequitur? Such things do happen,
especially in Celtic saints' legends; but we have
to prove, first, that the story is impossible, a
legend, not true, before we explain how it came
to be formulated. Otherwise we would be
saying that St.Augustine cannot have learned
Christianity from the very famous St.Ambrose, or
that Beethoven cannot have studied with Haydn
because Beethoven and Haydn were the two most
famous musicians of the period. Well, they
did. Famous people do meet, and even learn
from, each other.
Bishop Hanson feels - with his
usual strength of feeling - that Patrick's wobbly
Latin makes it impossible that he should have
learned the trade of priest from such a man as
Saint Germanus. To which I would answer
that while I have no doubt that all the clergy in
his Lordship's diocese were trained to the
highest standards of Oxford and Cambridge, such
has by no means semper et ubique been the
case. The priesthood has not infrequently
harboured ignorant, even illiterate persons; and
it may be a coincidence, but the French Catholic
Church has in recent centuries been the worst
offender. French country
curates were by-words for ignorance, and it must
be admitted that, when the Republic fought to
remove rural education from their hands and place
it in those of State-educated schoolmasters, it
had its reasons. I am not saying that the
Gaulish countryside in which we must imagine
Patrick ministering was in any way close to the
French countryside of the last couple of
centuries, but it is possible - though I will
leave it to better historians than myself to
evaluate the possibility - that some common,
long-range factor was at work, something of what
French historians have called the longue
durée. And while Germanus was no doubt
educated, to assume that he demanded the same
level of education from all the priests in his
service is to ask the evidence to say what it
cannot say. There is nothing to tell us
what was the level of education of the average
Gaulish presbyter - the kind who did not get
promoted to bishop, did not engage in public
debate, did not become house chaplain to rich and
well-read aristocrats, and did not do any public
or polemical writing; they left no more trace of
themselves than their cowherds.
On the other hand,
"Amatorex" is simply indefensible; and
he comes at a point we have already seen reason
to suspect. Palladius dies, and Patrick,
who was then in Gaul, is consecrated bishop in
his place at Amatorex' hands. Now, I have
already pointed out that Patricks coming to
Ireland after Palladius death is suspect,
as being far too close a fit with the legend of
Loegaire, which demanded that the national saint
should light his very first fire on the day of
the Kings own fire festival. And if
Patrick's journey is unlikely, his ordination by
"Amatorex" is downright impossible.
Amatorex is certainly a misreading of Amator:
and while it is easy to suppose that Irish legend
would want to associate St.Patrick to the
celebrated Germanus, a Saint famous throughout
the West and who left a mark in Insular history,
it is not so easy to see why the rather more
obscure Bishop Amator, whose mention in the Penguin
dictionary of Saints I can only describe as
sniffy, should be selected for
the honour of consecrating him. It also
happens to be a chronological impossibility:
Bishop Amator was Saint Germanus' own predecessor
in Auxerre! - and, while not quite neglected, was
nowhere near as famous and admired as his
successor, even in Gaul.
This gross error of fact, in which
every subsequent hagiographer followed Muirchu,
is accompanied by a canon-law absurdity: Germanus
sends Patrick along to "a neighbouring
bishop" Amatorex, who consecrates him on his
own. What, pray tell, happened to the
time-honoured principle that no bishop can
consecrate another bishop without the presence of
at least two more reigning bishops as
co-consecrators? In asking his
"neighbour" to consecrate a bishop -
and consecrate him, at that, for Ireland: a
region far outside both their competences -
Germanus would have asked him to commit a sin,
and a sin which he did not have the guts to
commit himself: and he, "Amatorex" and
Patrick would have been, all three of them,
automatically excommunicated and in schism.
A nice start for the Irish church, and a nice
charge to lay against such a man as Germanus!
In other words, this is howling
nonsense: a string of blunders which, I intend to
argue, can only go back to misunderstood written
fifth-century sources. To begin with,
Muirchu knew Amator's name (misspelled), but did
not know who Amator was: Vita Patricii 1.9
cannot possibly depend on any independent
knowledge of him, unless we are perchance willing
to imagine a hagiographic tradition in which
every single item of information, title and date
has been lost, but a name is still honoured.
No reader would ever imagine that he was either a
bishop of Auxerre, or Germanus predecessor:
the text clearly denies both things. Auxerre
is the only diocese in the world of which
Amatorex cannot be bishop; and he is Germanus'
contemporary. Nothing, in short, could be
more clear than that Muirchu has no idea whatever
who Amator was and where he reigned, and that he
only describes him as most holy because he
expects that anyone connected with Germanus and
Patrick must be holy. This would at any
rate be typical of his mind, as we saw it in his
entirely conventional and sometimes downright
foolish reinterpretation of Patrician passages.
The misspelling of his name is fully in keeping
with Muirchus confusion.
This misspelling is one of a
number, all of which occur in Muirchu 1.5-6,8-9;
just as Amator becomes Amatorex, so
Autisiodorum becomes Alsiodorum, Britanniis
turns into Britannis, and there is one
mysterious place-name, Ebmoria, of which
scholars have not been able to make sense, and
which looks very much like another misspelling or
mistranscription. The blunder about
Britannis/Britanniis (which is not
repeated in the manuscripts of Patrick's own Confession,
where Britanniis recurs no less than three
times) is therefore part of a complex of errors.
Their common features are the kind of things that
would happen as the result of the evolution, or
degradation, of a spoken account, on the lips of
people remote from its geography, until it was
taken down by an equally unfamiliar scribe,
without being checked by any better judge: and
this strongly suggests that, by the time these
items were written down, neither Patrick nor any
missionary of Continental origin were available
to correct it.
However, the passages are
consistently based on real people and places.
Just as the name Britanniae was actually
in the plural in the period concerned, so too
Germanus was the bishop of Autisiodorum and
Amator was his predecessor. In other words,
these three names were closely associated, and
their turning up, all misspelled and all close to
each other, in one confused notice, testifies
that that notice originated from a description of
something real. My point is that the
evident blunder about Amator's date and see shows
the same origin: an early notice about a real
person, a historical bishop, that had been
thoroughly misunder-stood. At the back of
all these errors, therefore, there is not
deliberate myth-making, but some sort of reality.
The notice was about Patrick, and
involved no idea of Bishop Amator beyond the fact
that he was a bishop and had ordained Patrick.
Further, it did not know where Amatorex
was bishop: therefore, it probably just said
"Amator(ex) ordained Patrick", and
nothing else. An Irish churchman would then
naturally conclude that Amatorex was a bishop
somewhere, since only a bishop would have
ordained a priest - let alone another bishop.
This, of course, strengthens the argument for the
notice being early and misunderstood, it also
comes across as thin, a mere scrap of
information, perhaps in no more than three words
- nothing like a legend, and very like a misread
entry from a lost item of information. I
think we may take it that "Amator ordained
Patrick" was a very early notice indeed.
Now if Patrick was ordained by
Amator, this can only mean that he had not been
ordained as a bishop at all. Amator died in
407. The fact that no
other bishop takes part agrees; the presence of a
single bishop is perfectly canonical for the
ordination of a presbyter (priest) but thoroughly
uncanonical for that of a bishop. It is
easy enough to see why the later Irish would have
taken him for a contemporary and neighbour of
Germanus'. As the legend of Loegaire and
the Easter fire demands that Patrick should come
to Ireland from outside, so it demands that he
should be a bishop, a head of the church, from
the moment he landed. The two historical
unlikelihoods - Patrick coming to Ireland only
after Palladius was dead; Patrick being
consecrated bishop of Ireland outside Ireland, by
a completely extraneous authority, and in an
uncanonical manner - go together: they both
depend on the underlying idea of the legend, of a
great wizard-bishop coming in from Outside.
Therefore any mention of Amator as the man who
ordained Patrick would be taken to refer to the
order of bishop. And a rationale would have
to be concocted for why Germanus had not
consecrated Patrick himself; to be honest, the
idea that he simply sent his pupil along to a
neighbouring bishop hardly shows too much
imagination.
The account of Germanus and Amator
as contemporaries adds up if we postulate two
brief notices: one that said no more than that
Amator ordained Patrick, and one that Patrick had
served as a presbyter under the great Germanus,
before he went to Ireland. The person,
whether Muirchu or an earlier writer, who first
edited the scanty notices about Patrick's Gaulish
apprenticeship into a coherent narrative, knew
that "Amator ordained Patrick", but had
no idea that Germanus was Amator's successor: he
made Patrick go to Alsiodorum as Germanus
was already a bishop. Yet nothing makes
more sense than that Patrick, having been
consecrated a priest by Amator, should continue
to serve his successor; and once you remove all
the narrative aspect from the data (as
well as the impossible notice that Amator
ordained Patrick a Bishop), that is exactly what
we have. Patrick was ordained by
Amator; Patrick served as a presbyter under
Germanus. As a matter of bare data,
there can be nothing wrong or dubious about such
a scheme, and it is easy to see how it could be
misunderstood: if, according to the legend of
Loegaire, Patrick was an ordained bishop before
he reached Ireland, his ordination could only
have happened in Germanus time; hence,
whoever was known to have consecrated him must be
a contemporary of Germanus.
What these mistakes show is an
entire concentration on the figure of Patrick.
Amator and Germanus are only present to give an
account of the hero's early days. In other
words, they are not the kind of mistakes anyone
would make if he had a strong imaginative
connection with Amator and Germanus themselves -
if he had read their Lives and legends, and
decided to use them in a fictional life of
Patrick because they themselves loomed so large
in his own imagination. They do not; they
are wholly marginal characters, present only ad
maiorem Patricii gloriam. Simply the
kind of writing this is makes it practically
impossible that a hagiographic tradition about
Amator, perhaps even about Germanus, should be
known to the first Patrician hagiographers.
They only knew their names.
The chapter of the damned
2: Patrick and Gaul
So the historical Germanus never
ordained Patrick bishop, nor asked anyone else
let alone his dead predecessor to.
And anyone who reads Patrick's Latin will
understand why: such an undereducated priestling
must have seemed very poor episcopal material
indeed. Germanus may have loved Apostolic
poverty, but, as an educated high-ranking Roman,
he would hardly consider promoting the
enthusiastic but scarcely Virgilian Patrick
beyond presbyter rank; and if Patrick had been
ordained by Amator, he must have remained one for
at least 25 years, which does not argue
tremendous upward mobility.
The Letters passage
on the Gaulish Christian Romans is more important
for dating Patrick than has been generally
understood. Consuetudo Romanorum
Gallorum Christianorum: mittunt uiros sanctos
idoneos ad Francos et ceteras gentes cum tot
milia solidorum ad redimendos captiuos baptizatos:
"[this is] what the Roman Christians of Gaul
do: they send suitable holy men to the Franks and
other gentile tribes with so many thousands of
gold solidi to buy back baptized
captives". Has anyone remarked on the
enormity of that expression tot milia
solidorum? A century later, the Emperor
Mauricius budgeted 50,000 gold solidi to
pay the Frankish king Childebert to invade Italy: that was what it cost
to hire a barbarian horde for a full-scale
campaign. And yet Patrick says that the
Gaulish Church was spending many thousands of
gold solidi on ransoming enslaved
Christians. If it cost the Gaulish Church
thousands of gold solidi to ransom the
slaves taken in the course of ordinary
small-scale border raids, it would have been
bankrupted in short order. What Patrick is
describing is an extraordinary state of affairs,
in which the Franks went on major slaving raids,
demanding gold in cofferfuls to free their
captives: something very like a war.
We have definite archaeological
evidence for three, and no more than three, such
events. "Unlike the cut-up silver
hoards... dating from the early fifth to the
sixth century... a relatively long period, there
is another series of precious metal hoards which
were apparently laid down during the first half
of the fifth century". These hoards come
in three groups. The first dates from about
397 to 406 and is found on both sides of the
lower and middle Rhine up to the Mainz area,
spreading east along the Ruhr to modern Thuringia
and west to the Flemish half of modern Belgium.
The second group dates from about 407 to 411 and
is found between the Weser and the Waal, and
south to the Ruhr: though it follows the first
group immediately in time, there is hardly any
overlap in space, and it seems obvious that it
was a different group of tribes that was
profiting to such a monstrous extent. The
third and last covers an uncertain period,
between about 420 and 430; it is spread over the
same geographical area as the first, the 397-406
item, except that it stretches much further
westwards - there are hoards as far as the Somme
and the Seine, and one isolated item near the
bend of the Loire (not far, we notice, from
Auxerre).
A child could read these signs,
given a reasonable knowledge of late Roman
history. The first and third group of
hoards correspond with the area of the Frankish
confederation, and were accumulated in periods in
which the Franks were very active in Gaul. The
hoards end in 406 because, basically, a much
badder mutha has entered the neighbourhood: it is
at the end of 406 that the Alan/Vandalic/Swabian
horde broke into Gaul. This changes
everything, and we next hear of Frankish troops
and Frankish kings fighting Alans and Vandals on
the Rhine, and Frankish and Alamannic armies
entering Spain with Constantine III in an
ill-fated attempt to put down Gerontius'
usurpation. On their way to Romania,
these ultra-barbarous barbarians had mauled
Frankish and Alamannic territory first, and the
Franks and Alamanni cannot have liked the
presence of these new and obstreperous hunters in
their preserve. But the Franks backed the
wrong horse, entering the service of two usurpers
in succession - Constantine III and Jovinian -
who were both defeated and destroyed by Honorius;
and so, in addition to a ferocious war against
powerful enemies, they found themselves, as the
smoke settled, in a more unfavourable political
situation. It may also be that the second
group of hoards may represent another reason why
their plunder ceased: their hated neighbours, the Saxons, had taken
advantage of the mess to go raiding on their own
in areas to which the Franks, camped all along
the Rhine between the Saxons and Romania,
had previously had prescriptive rights.
The third group is the one we
want. It represents the period of intense
disruption between the death of Honorius (423)
and Aetius' re-establishment of (some sort of)
order in the Gauls, and hits a peak about 425,
while Byzantium is bloodily putting down the
popular usurper John and subduing Italy, and
Aetius is among the Huns awaiting events
and nobody is minding the Gaulish store. The
hoard of Xanten, buried in 425, contained no less
than 400 gold solidi; since this is surely
only a fragment of what the Franks got away with
in that year - one that happens not to have been
recovered, perhaps because its owner was
subsequently killed by Aetius - it gives an idea
of the amount of wealth leaving Gaul for Francia;
tot milia solidorum indeed. Unlike
the disorders of 397-406, this period of raids
left traces - in the form of a buried hoard - to
within a few miles of Auxerre, where Irish
tradition has Patrick studying "like St.Paul
at the feet of Gamaliel" with Germanus.
If the British priestling was anywhere close to
the episcopal authority - and the additamentum
to Tirechan has he and Iserninus speaking with
Germanus in person - he would have witnessed the
selection of "holy and suitable men",
people who spoke the language and were known to
the barbarians; the enormous effort of finding
the necessary wealth; the leave-taking of those
brave ecclesiastics; the nervous weeks of
expectation while the mission was away among
dangerous and powerful enemies who did not even
worship the same God; and finally, the relief as
the "holy and suitable men" returned
with a trail of exhausted, penniless prisoners,
glad to be home, but faced with financial ruin
and personal tragedy. One detail strongly
suggests that this was the case: the word idoneos,
"suitable", for the Church's envoys,
making the point that the men in question must
not only be of spotless integrity, sancti,
but also apt to the task at hand, idonei;
a point neither necessary to Patricks
argument nor developed afterwards. Why
mention it? For only one possible reason:
because he was there and saw it being done.
Perhaps, being the person he was, he had
volunteered for this dangerous mission, only to
be asked how good his Frankish was - or his
Latin, for that matter; or perhaps he had only
thought of it, and come to the same conclusion
unaided.
Patrick had been through this;
and then he saw the supposed Christian Coroticus
driving off baptized Christians with less
consideration than the pagan Franks, and the
British Church looking on in complacent silence.
Is there any reason to doubt? Only the need
to place Patrick wildly late in order to accept
obviously unacceptable self-serving Irish
dynastic and monastic legends. Max Martin
insists that these periods of hoard-making and
hoard-burying are altogether exceptional, that
there are no similar finds before or after.
Patrician scholars eager to date their subject to
the second half of the century have assumed far
too comfortably that Frankish kidnappings for
ransom were regular events that may even have
lasted after Clovis' conquest of the country and
his conversion to Catholicism. Even if there
were any grounds to assume so - and so far as I
can see, it amounts to a guess - it would founder
on Patrick's expression tot milia solidorum:
amounts of money incompatible with small-scale
raiding.
The chapter of the damned
3: the transition from Gaul to Ireland
If Patrick was not consecrated a
Bishop by Amator or Germanus, this leaves us with
no transition from Patrick in Gaul studying
Christian doctrine with whatever profit -
from Germanus, to Patrick in Ireland, claiming
his contemporaries said, usurping
the title of Bishop. We remember that we
had concluded, from his own words, that he was in
charge of the Irish church when he wrote his two
surviving documents, but that, though probably
elected to the see by his flock, he had not been
recognized by the British bishops: this agrees.
Patrick went to Ireland as a presbyter, certainly
with Palladius, and was somehow left in charge,
or perhaps elected to take over, when Palladius'
death left the mission leaderless. His amicissimus
told him - and surely all the Irish mission
agreed - that he should be "given over to
the upwards step to the Episcopate", quod
non eram dignus, says he simply and
ungrammatically - [of] which I was not worthy.
This is simply the classic response to a
nomination: a suitably humble candidate is always
expected to respond nolo episcopari, I do
not wish to be made a Bishop - and at any rate,
Patrick really was humble.
One addition (additamentum)
to Tirechan's wholly legendary account of
Patrick, may have a historical origin. Germanus,
it says, ordered Iserninus, a priest in his
diocese, to go to preach in Ireland. Iserninus
irritated the Bishop by demurring, whereas
Patrick, asked after him, submissively said
"be it as you say"; and of course
Iserninus ended up being storm-blown to Ireland
while on his way to somewhere else, and having to
obey Germanus' order anyway; and of course meek
little Patrick ended up being a full bishop and
Iserninus superior. This tradition
presents Patrick as a simple and indeed secondary
priest in Germanus' court, not even noticed until
the more prominent Iserninus had tried to turn
down the mission, addressed by Germanus with no
respect - "will you be disobedient
too?" - and with no mention whatever of the
episcopal title that Germanus was supposed to
have got for him from the so-called Amatorex.
In every aspect, the figures in this story ring
true to what we know of them from other sources:
Germanus is as imperious as we would expect a
former head of the imperial Gaulish civil
service, and Patrick is as meek and self-effacing
as he appears in his own writings - a million
miles from the terrifying, royal
wizard-archbishop of legend.
From Patrick's own words, however,
it seems clear that there was more than dutiful
obedience involved. Patrick says nothing of
the other Christian slaves who shared his exile:
but it is clear that they existed, and that he
had some part in whatever religious life they
managed, and that he felt guilty about leaving
them as he fled, even with the guarantee of a
divine Voice. The dream of Victoricus
bearing "the voice of the Irish", those
who had walked with him as a boy beside the
Western sea, begging him to come and walk with
them again, would strike any competent
psychologist as a flagrant symptom of guilt;
probably that survivors guilt so often
encountered among men and women who escaped
terrible situations while others did not. So
there were Christians in Ireland, and Christians
whose condition was so bad that deserting them
made Patrick feel guilty especially since
his words imply that he had had some role in
their vestigial religious life. This
probably explains why, once he returned to Roman
lands, he started training for orders: he may
have been something of a religious leader even
before his flight.
There would have been both
negative and positive incentives for enslaved
Romans in Ireland to keep their Christian faith.
On the one hand, slaves were excluded from pagan
sacrifice, and therefore had no encouragement to
enter the religious life of their captors;
indeed, it is a frequent feature of slave-owning
societies that slaves are positively discouraged
from sharing the religious and intellectual
activities of their owners. Conversely,
Christianity itself (though associated in their
minds with a reality far higher than that of the
barbarian lordlings who held them in chains
that of the Roman Empire) nevertheless has
no prejudice against slaves, who are repeatedly
mentioned in the New Testament as among the
faithful. Thus, whatever their masters
thought of it, there would be a positive
encouragement not to lose their faith, or their
prized Roman identity. A substantial body
of believers must have existed before Palladius:
"Bury points out that the Irish must have
asked for a Bishop, or at least have been ready
for one, since Pope Celestine's Fourth Letter
clearly states Nullus inuitis detur episcopus,
no Bishop shall be given to anyone without
request".
The vision of Victoricus took
place several years before Patrick ever had the
opportunity to go back; he did not go, he says,
until he was "nearly failing", prope
deficiebam, by which I think he meant that he
was near to old age. If Amator, who had
died in 407, had ordained him priest, he must
have been easily in his fifties when he was
called to the Irish mission. (If this seems
a ridiculously old age for the member of a
mission, let us remember that Pope Vitalian
dispatched the great Theodore of Tarsus to the
frontier diocese of Canterbury, among
a half-unconverted alien nation, when Theodore
was already 66, and a Greek to boot; and Theodore
proved one of the greatest, and of the most
energetic, archbishops of Canterbury in history.
Youth and physical strength are not necessarily
the most indispensable qualities for a
missionary.) To him, unlike Iserninus, this
must have been the answer to a deeply-felt
desire, an urge to atone to the enslaved
companions of his youth for abandoning them so
many years before - and probably the last chance
to do so.
I believe that this happened as
Germanus was recruiting for Palladius Irish
mission. This mission, I am convinced, was
worked out among a knot of ecclesiastics
concerned with the persistence of Pelagianism in
Britain and its historically documented spread to
Ireland, including the Pope, Germanus himself,
Palladius and Prosper. It is from Dumville
of all people, from the shrewd and formidable
Dumville, that the following non sequitur
comes: "If... Patrick escaped [at any time
after] 431, the possibility of joining the new
Irish Church would not have seemed so remote.
The number of ecclesiastics with experience of
Irish conditions and the Irish language - and a
willingness to work in Ireland! - must have been
exiguous at best. Patrick, once trained,
should have been a welcome addition to the church
headed by Palladius or any successor" - as
if the same considerations did not obtain, only
with more force, to the period of preparation of
Palladius' mission! As if the Papacy would
not look anywhere in the West for ecclesiastics
with some knowledge of the distant island! -
anywhere, of course, except in Britain, whose
clergy would still be suspect of Pelagianism;
indeed, if my reading of Prosper is correct, the
mission to Ireland would be largely dedicated to
setting up a counter-power to an already
established Pelagian diaspora, perhaps including
Pelagians of episcopal rank. (I already
suggested that these might include the South
Irish saints, Declan of Ardmore and Ciaran of
Sairngir, who claim a non-Patrician origin.)
I honestly fail to understand why, in Dumville's
eyes, Patrick's Irish experience would not
qualify him for missionary work in Ireland as
Palladius' mission was being set up, but would do
so once it was up and running; or have I
misunderstood him?
The chapter of the damned,
4: Patrick and Pelagianism
There is a peculiar atmosphere in
Patrician research which I rarely encountered
elsewhere except for New Testament studies, and
which I might describe as a nearly universal
will not to believe. Documents are
doubted on principle; objections are raised on
the thinnest grounds; horrifyingly complex
schemes of development are proposed; and above
all, the evidence is examined to pieces, each
item being challenged separately rather than seen
in context. Nothing is more characteristic
of this than the inability of a man of
E.A.Thompsons brilliance to see what is as
plain as the nose on his face. Separating
Patrick's statement that he would most gladly (libentissime)
have travelled to Britain to see his parentes,
as well as to Gaul to see the fratres and
the saints of God, from any other Patrician
context, Thompson finds it easy to decide that
this statement does not prove that Patrick had
been to Gaul or had religious friends there.
Of course it does not - until you look at
Patrick's use of fratres: fellow-workers,
and people who support him in his bid to be
recognized as Bishop. It is his fratres
who work to get the hostile British bishops'
approval, and who tell him that his amicissimus
will argue for him. I think it is a fair
inference that his amicissimus is himself
a frater. Therefore, if Patrick had fratres
in Gaul, then he had friends and fellow-workers
there. And if he ever spent time in the
shadow of the eminent Germanus, the heir of
Martin of Tours and Ambrose of Milan, revered by
Galla Placidia and the whole Gaulish episcopate,
recognized in his lifetime as a living saint,
then he would have good reason to say that in
Gaul he might see the saints of God. (Of
course, if any British bishop, perhaps still
friendly with excommunicated Pelagians,
remembered Germanus' visit with irritation or
worse, Patrick's allusion would be salt in the
wounds.)
Clearly Thompsons argument
against Patrick going to Gaul is no argument at
all. Patricks "people", his
kin and nation in this world, whom he would like
to see out of carnal affection, are in Britain;
but his "brothers", religious brothers,
are in Gaul. He is very uneasy about the
bishops of his own fatherland, in whom he senses
arrogance, worldliness, lack of faith, even the
suspicion of schism and heresy. And that
has a tremendous resonance in the British 430s:
wealth was one of the characteristics of the
Pelagians of the time, according to Constantius,
and arrogance and lack of faith are also E's
charges against the British clergy. Patrick
reproaches them with the example of the Gallic
church, a model of Christian practice; the same
view led the legatio directa to Gaul and
took back those models of Apostolic Christianity,
Germanus and Lupus, to argue for Catholic
Augustinianism in Britain. Like E and the
author of Gildas 92.3, if for different reasons
(or are they?), Patrick dreads political
interference: the villainous Coroticus may be
protected, and the Irish converts sacrificed, by
worldly considerations - what worldly
considerations, we don't know, but his
contemporaries must have known very well. And
he follows this with a terrible intimation:
"Perhaps we are not of the same fold and we
have not the same God" - frightful words to
make public for a man who regarded himself as the
holder of a Bishops throne: perhaps you are
schismatic and heretic - words no Christian
priest or bishop would use except for the gravest
doctrinal reasons.
He speaks as if this appalling
suspicion were clear enough to be expressed, but
not enough to be sure. This peculiar
condition, of not being quite certain whether a
national Church is in a state of schism or not,
is not common in church history; in most cases, I
think, the line is relatively easy to see. But
it is the same ambiguity, the same sense of being
between two stools, the same dread of worldly
wisdom, wealth, and creeping unadmitted schism,
that Germanus' contemporaries felt about the
British church. This same uneasy doubt
pervades E, Gildas 92.3, Prosper and (after the
fact) Constantius: is the British church in
communion with the world church, is it Catholic,
or has the Pelagian infiltration reduced it to a
schismatic body? Since independence, the
Vatican had no political way to control the
British episcopate; and when they saw heretics
allowed unchallenged, thanks to political
pressure, into the fold, after Rome had already
expelled them worldwide, they were bound to
wonder whether communion with Britain meant
anything at all.
(This is another circumstance
dating Patrick to the first half of the century:
had he lived in the second half, according to the
Carney dating, he could have had no doubt about
Christian Britain's Catholic allegiance. Sidonius
Apollinaris, in the 470s, is fully in sympathy
with the religious beliefs of the British exile
Bishop Rigocatus - ille uenerabilis, he
calls him, that venerable man - in whose company
he was thrown for months; Constantius, writing in
the 480s, is quite sure that the Pelagian danger
is dead and buried; and the legend of A assigns
the sacred substances of the Sacraments to Rome,
which involves, as I pointed out, implicit
loyalty to the Holy See.)
By the time he came to write the Confession,
Patrick seems to have decided not to play up
further the hint of schism: as we have seen, his
credal statement is eirenic and uncontroversial.
But this angry outburst, torn from him by
Coroticus terrible blow and written, as we
have seen, as an immediate reaction without
stopping to think, reveals something of his view
of his British opponents; people who, even after
the journey of his master Germanus, may still
harbour secret schismatic attitudes, may still be
not of one fold and not with one
Shepherd. And the attitude he shows
is that of the Augustinian church, the church
which had sent Germanus to fight the British
heresy at home and Palladius to pursue it in its
furthest secretus Oceani. If it was
with Palladius, that Patrick came over, and from
the see of Germanus that he set out, he is hardly
likely to have harboured different views from his
master and his mission leader.
Interestingly, Muirchu does
nothing to associate St.Germanus with the battle
against Pelagianism; one might read his whole Life
without suspecting that any doctrinal quarrel was
taking place. Did he not know of the
Pelagian controversy? Of course he did;
within his century, Pelagianism was prominent
enough in Ireland to merit a severe pastoral
letter from Pope John IV (640). It is possible to
suspect that Muirchu did not want to draw
attention to doctrinal disputes: his Bishop Aed
is held to have been one of Irelands
promoters of unity with Rome, and may not have
wanted to emphasize any tradition of heterodoxy
or heresy in his church, especially since he and
his fellow southerners were vulnerable to charges
of Pelagianism. The very purpose of writing
a life of St.Patrick may have been to stress the
Roman, orthodox and Latin origins of the Irish
church, at a time - the Paschal controversy -
when unity with Rome or the reverse was a central
issue. But it is also quite possible - that
is what the texts suggest - that Muirchu and his
sources had simply never heard of Germanus' role
in the battle against the British heresy; that
they knew him only, or at least mainly, as
Patrick's superior, as we have seen, in the same
section of the narrative, about Amator.
The chapter of the damned,
5: Magonus and a separate British legend of
Patrick
Within the British church, there
is evidence that the diocese of Whithorn - which
must have had a considerable part in the
formation of the Christian consciousness of the
Northern tribes from which come the legends of A
- not only detested Patrick, but carried on this
detestation for some considerable time after the
struggle was over, long enough to solidify into a
local legend. In the form in which it
has come down to us, the legend does not mention
Patrick by name; but there is separate evidence,
from an unexpected Nennian usage, that an
autonomous British tradition of St.Patrick
existed.
In his Patrician chapters, Nennius
says that Patrick's original name was Maun,
and that "Bishop Amathea Rex" renamed
him Patrick. This is his own contribution:
in no other Life I have seen does Amatorex
rename the bishop-to-be. And with this goes
the name's unique form. Dumville: "Uitae
II and IV offer Magonius... [but] The Historia
Brittonum alone has Maun, which would
descend regularly from a British *Magunos,
'servant lad', but in defiance of the etymology
provided by Tirechan"... as if any trust
were to be put in Tirechan! Ancient
etymologies are often wayward, but even by their
standards, Tirechan is guilty of some pretty
extraordinary misunderstandings. The name Patricius
was turned into Irish as Cothraige,
according to sound-laws which were well known to
educated Irishmen and regularly used to turn
British words into Irish; and yet Tirechan
ignores them altogether, making Cothirthiacus
- which is no more than a re-Latinization of Cothraige
- mean that Patrick has served four houses of
druids!
No: if the form Maun is
British, then it is the result of a local British
evolution; and it means that a local British
tradition identified St.Patrick of Ireland with
one magonos or "servant-lad" -
an understandable enough name for the former
abductee of Irish pirates. The fact that
the name developed along expected lines of
linguistic evolution, rather than keeping, as in
Ireland, the archaic form with the middle -g-,
shows that it belonged to a tradition preserved,
not in Latin out of books, but in spoken Welsh,
until Nennius' own time. And along with the
name, comes another feature found in no Irish
account: that the Saint was renamed. Nennius
holds Magonus or Maun to be
Patrick's native name, only changed into Patricius
by the authority that ordained him, whom he
Nennius identified with Amatorex; now, while both
Tirechan and Muirchu know "other" names
of Patrick, I know of no Irish source that speaks
of his original name being changed
- by Amatorex or anyone. This is probably a
fragment of a British legend of Patrick.
Though Nennius' account of Patrick
is otherwise wholly from Irish legends, the
British form of the name Maun and un-Irish
detail of the renaming shows that somewhere in
Britain a native Welsh-language tradition about
the Saint was carried on. It is remarkable
that the British still clearly understood that
the Patrick/Maun of their traditions was to be
identified with the Apostle of Ireland, in a
world which frequently reduplicated saints and
kings because of separate local developments of
the same legends or different local memories of
the same person.
Now there is a legend in the life
of St.Ninian about a boy who goes to Ireland -
almost certainly to Patrick's stomping grounds of
Ulster - with a "stolen" bishop's
staff, and who apparently establishes something
of a Christian nature which prospers and thrives.
In Alexander Forbes' translation of Ailred's Life
of Ninian:
...many, both of the nobles and
of the middle rank, entrusted their sons to the
blessed Pontiff[Ninian] to be trained in
sacred learning. He indoctrinated these by
his knowledge, he formed them by his example,
curbing by a salutary discipline the vices to
which their age was prone, and persuasively
inculcating the virtues whereby they might live
soberly, righteously and piously.
Once upon a time one of these
young men committed a fault which could not
escape the saint, and because it was not right
that discipline should be withheld, the rods -
the severest torment of boys - were made ready.
The lad fled in terror, but, not being ignorant
of the power of the holy man, was careful to
carry away with him the staff on which he used to
lean, thinking he held the best comfort for the
journey if he took with him something that
belonged to the saint.
Fleeing, therefore, he sought
for a ship to transport him to Scotia. Now
it is the custom in that region to fashion out of
light branches a kind of boat in the form of a
cup and of such a size that it can contain three
men sitting close together. By stretching
an ox-hide over it, they render it not only
buoyant but actually impenetrable by the water.
Possibly at that time vessels of great size were
built in the same way. The young man
stumbled on one of these lying at the shore, but
not covered with leather, into which, when he had
incautiously entered, I know not whether by
Divine providence or on account of its natural
lightness (for with the slightest touch these
vessels float far out into the waves),
straightaway the craft was carried out to sea.
As the water poured in, the
miserable lad stood in ignorance of what he
should do, whither he should turn, what course he
should pursue. If he abandoned the vessel,
his life was in danger; certain death awaited him
if he continued. Then at last the unhappy
boy, repenting his flight, beheld with pale
countenance the waves ready to avenge the injury
he had done. At length, coming to himself,
and thinking that St.Ninian was present in his
staff[19], he confessed his
fault, as if in his presence, in a lamentable
voice besought a pardon, and prayed for divine
aid through his most holy merits.
Then trusting in the kindness
as well as the power of the bishop, he stuck the
staff in one of the holes. At once the sea
trembled and, as if kept back by a divine force,
ceased to flow through the open holes... a wind
rising from the easterly quarter impelled the
vessel gently. The staff, acting as a sail,
caught the wind; the staff as helm directed the
vessel; the staff as anchor stayed it. The
people stood on the western shore, and, seeing a
little vessel like a bird nesting on the waves,
neither propelled by sail, nor moved by oar, nor
guided by helm, wondered what this miracle might
mean.
Meanwhile the young man landed,
and that he might make the merits of the man of
God more widely known, he planted his staff on
the shore, praying God that, in testimony of so
great a miracle, it might, by sending forth roots
and receiving sap, produce branches and leaves
and bring forth flowers and fruit.
Divine propitiousness was not
wanting to the prayer of the suppliant, and
straightaway the dry wood, sending forth roots
and covering itself with new bark, put forth
leaves and branches, and, growing into a
considerable tree, made known the power of Ninian[20] to all that beheld
it. Miracle was added to miracle: for, to
the greater merit of the saint[21], at the foot of the
tree a most limpid fountain sprang up, sending
forth a crystal stream, winding along with gentle
murmur and with lengthened course, delightful to
the eye, sweet to the taste, and useful and
health-giving to the sick.
The unnamed young man's journey is
indubitably to Ireland, and specifically to the
Patrician district of Northern Ireland. He
sails from Ninian's see of Whithorn - to this day
a fishing district on the Solway Firth - and a
wind rising from the easterly quarter impelled
the vessel gently to The people... on the
western shore. There is, I suppose, a
remote possibility that, by sailing with a
straight easterly wind from the shore of
Whithorn, you might land on the Mull of Galloway;
but really, the only sensible way to read this is
that the boat was blown to the shore of County
Down. The people of "the western
shore" gather to see something they had
never seen before... a young Christian man
bearing the staff of a Bishop (which he has
stolen from St.Ninian); and that very staff
becomes a symbol of strength, permanence and
fruitfulness, when it is planted in the soil of
"the western shore".
There is a surprising, and to all
appearances unnecessary, archaic item: after
describing the making of ox-hide coracles, Ailred
wonders whether at that time vessels of great
size were built in the same way. They
were; but why on earth should
he ask, since the existence or otherwise of such
boats has nothing to do with the story he is
telling, which demands that the young man be
alone on board? Quite simply, because this
is the fingerprint of an earlier version, in
which the boat involved was a large sea-crosser,
such as may well have carried the historical
St.Patrick across the seas - from Britain to
Ireland, and back to Britain, and to Gaul, and to
Ireland again. Sea-crossings are bound to
be a part of any legend of St.Patrick.
How about the youth of the boy?
The historical Patrick was an older man. But,
in that wonderfully insightful conclusion for
which anyone would excuse all his opinionated and
often unacceptable readings, Bishop Hanson has
given a portrait of the Saint's mind whose
central points I am delighted to quote in full.
"Far be it from any historian to attempt the
task of psycho-analyzing Patrick. But it is
clear even to the austerest and most
dispassionate investigator of his writings that
in his captivity at the age of sixteen Patrick
suffered a what we would now call a severe
psychological trauma from which in a sense he
never recovered. Even when, as an old man, he is writing his Confession...
he still cannot help regarding himself as a
helpless adolescent, cruelly torn from home and
kindred and forced to do slave labour in hunger
and cold, without proper clothing, by unfeeling
un-Christian barbarians speaking a foreign
language. Even as a venerable bishop who
can on occasion thunder forth excommunication and
boycott, who is the object of devotion on the
part of pious women, who can associate with petty
kings and their sons and who can attract
aristocrats to the life of religion, he is still proselitus
et profuga, seruus, profuga indoctus scilicet,
seruulus, proselito et peregrino, pauperculum
pupillum, miser et infelix, he desires to be
with proselitis et captiuis, and lastly,
once again Patricius peccator indoctus
scilicet. He could never quite lose
this image of himself as utterly helpless,
utterly defenceless, and abandoned. That is
why we feel an inextinguishable sympathy with
Patrick. He has managed to convey to us so
movingly own feeling about himself, not what he
would like us to feel or to think, but what he
really felt himself. But we never imagine
that he is indulging in futile self-pity. Patrick
does not pity himself, because, as he himself
tells us, in his moment of helplessness and
extreme need he found a helper and a friend in
God. He could never forget his terrible
experience as an impressionable boy, but neither
could he forget that through this experience he
met 'him who is powerful', who drew him out of
the deep mud and set him on top of a wall."
If Bishop Hanson could reach this
insight though the Patrician texts alone, so
could others. We must, I believe, accept
that the legend-making processes of the Christian
Celts are primarily literary, based on
book-reading and written accounts. We
should not imagine a mainly oral transmission:
time and again, we have seen how accounts,
however imaginative and unhistorical, have been
built on small but written amounts of primary
data, as in the matter of Bishop Amator
consecrating Patrick and Patrick spending time
studying with Bishop Germanus. In the
legend of Coroticus the uolpecula, the
author's creativity was fertilized by two
separate strands of written tradition - an Irish
note that said that one Coirtech king of Aloo, a
British tyrant, had had a major clash with
Patrick over persecuted and slaughtered
Christians; and the Gildasian polemic against
British "tyrants", which gave the
author the vocabulary of invective infaustus
crudelisque tyrannus and the image of the
cruel tyrant turned into a uolpecula and
chased off. Both the core materials and the
literary impulse come not from any oral medium,
but from written items.
Particularly significant for the
interpretation of this legend is the Irish way
with hagiographical legend-making, as we have
seen it in the legend of St.Monesan. This
story is built on themes drawn from St.Patrick's Confession,
treated not so much as a historical account as a
storehouse of ideas - the supremacy of Jesus over
the Sun - the notion of a beautiful royal
princess rebelling against her pagan parents to
become Christian and take the veil. In the
same way, a good many quite different Patrician
themes have found their way into the story of the
boy and Ninian's staff. The unnamed young
man is of decent, though not necessarily noble,
birth ("I am a freeborn man, the son of a
decurion"); he commits a grievous sin in
adolescence, but we are not told what that sin
was; after this, and to some extent in punishment
for this, he is taken to Ireland by boat, and not
by his own will; there is an element of doubt and
self-doubt (...the miserable lad stood in
ignorance of what he should do, whither he should
turn, what course he should pursue...); he
has stolen the staff of a bishop - i.e. the
prerogative of bishop - from Ninian; he
nevertheless reaches Ireland and symbolically
prospers. His staff of office becomes a
great tree, i.e. his mission is fertile and
successful, and at its feet rises a very
metaphorical spring of clear water - that is, the
Baptismal waters of rebirth. But we are
never allowed to forget that the staff was stolen
from Ninian, that is, that the see of Whithorn
has prior claim to any missionary activity in
Ireland, and that Patrick only prospers after
confessing to the staff all the wrong he has done
to Ninian; for where the staff was, there was
Ninian - in other words, every bit of episcopal
power he took to Ireland, every bit of good he
did there by welding a bishop's staff as fertile
and powerful as an oak, belonged ultimately to
Ninian of Whithorn.
Yes, this is Patrick. Who
else can it be? Who else in all
hagiographical literature could have been said to
have been taken to Ireland across the sea as a
boy, not of his own will, as punishment for a
grave but unstated sin, and to have carried there
a doubtful ("stolen") claim to be a
bishop, in spite of which his "staff of
office" became like a large and fruitful
tree from which springs everlastingly the water
of baptism? Whose career included a famous
episode of flight by sea, and who could be said
to be both well-born and yet, at the same time, a
servant lad?
I have no doubt that this legend
embodied a Whithorn polemic against the Bishop of
the Irish, whom they regarded as having stolen an
episcopal prerogative from them. Whithorn, very
far from the main areas of Saxon settlement, must
have had a continuous institutional history from
Roman times until the Christians of Northumbria
took it over in the age of Bede and Peohthelm; it
may well be that some sort of ancient claim was
passed on through some written medium, and
eventually expanded, with the help of several
images from Patrician writings, into a full-blown
miracle story intended to show Patrick as
dependent on Ninian.
The legend itself cannot be very
early and has little historical value. It
seems to know nothing of Palladius, to take
Patrick for the first Bishop of the Irish, to
imagine that the diocese was of his own carving
rather than created by Pope Celestine, and even
to take certain aspects of Irish Patrician
legends for granted. As in Muirchu's
account, but not as in real life, Patrick is
already a bishop when he reaches Ireland - at
least, he has already stolen a bishop's staff,
and has already made things right by confessing
to the staff; again as in Muirchu and unlike real
life, he is the first Christian to reach the
island, and comes more or less as a miracle.
On the other hand, the claim that Patrick's
episcopal title was "stolen" seems to
allude to the great clash about his nomination,
and includes a specific element of resentment on
behalf of "Ninian" - i.e. of Whithorn.
Though undatable, in short, it certainly is not
in touch with the realities of Patrick's mission;
yet, as late as it was written, Whithorn still
remembered a claim over the Christians of Ireland
which Patrick's autonomous diocese had infringed.
(It is curious that Palladius was
said to have died, either among the Picts, or in
the confines of the Britons: that is, in an area
that might well, like the diocese of Whithorn, be
a border territory connected with Pictland but
with a visible British identity. Perhaps he
had gone there for some reason to do with this
Whithorn claim. Perhaps his death had
something to do with this conflict of authority;
the Coroticus episode, only a few years later,
shows that there were those, in the northern area
covered by the diocese of Whithorn, who would
stick at no means, however bloody, to destroy the
authority and prestige of the new Irish diocese.)
Later a censoring hand removed
Patrick's name. Of course, to
those who first wrote the legend, it would have
had no point unless the supposedly usurping
bishop were named and shamed; but it is just as
clear that Ailred, writing in the eleven
hundreds, has no idea of the rascal boy's
illustrious identity. Perhaps Patrick's
name had become so celebrated on both sides of
the Irish Sea, that stories disparaging to him
simply would not be told or believed any more.
The chapter of the damned,
6: the hymn of Secundinus
One of the most damned
and widely disregarded of Patrician documents is
the Hymn of Secundinus, whose attribution
to Patricks companion is no more widely
accepted than, say, the evidence for Santa Claus.
Thus speaketh an unsympathetic scholar: besides
being rotten poetry, the historian deplores
that, instead of singing the general praises of
Patricks virtues and weaving round him a
mesh of religious phrases describing in general
terms his work as a pastor, messenger and
preacher, the author had thought well to mention
some of his particular actions. Such
power has the myth of Patrick the royal
wizard-archbishop, changing the face of Ireland
with power and will, that Bury does not even seem
to understand that the work of a pastor,
messenger and preacher is simply not to be
summed up by heroic and telling particular
actions. Bury is still thinking
mainly of a politician; but what the author of
the Hymn says about Patrick might be said
about any missionary, indeed of any conscientious
and successful parish priest. In point of
fact, it agrees excellently with the very
scarcity of data we find in the records of the
first, or rather the true, Patrick.
Churches are not established by political
triumphs or by the sort of actions that get into
annals or historical records, but by contact on a
personal or small group level. The sequence
of dozens of homilies, hundreds of personal
meetings, acts of charity small and great, the
weekly celebration of the Eucharist, the personal
contact with converts, priests and deacons, the
negotiations on behalf of individual members,
rarely do shake the earth; church communities
develop invisibly, away from the light
until the Church has spread without notice, until
it suddenly is a power in the land. Then
annalistic entries and political power start
bubbling up.
Even so, I think that the
allusions to recognizable "particular
actions", known events of Patrick's life,
are rather more frequent than Bury was able to
recognize. The Hymn is composed of
twenty-six four-line stanzas, each beginning with
a letter of the alphabet. It knows nothing
whatever of miracles or the conversion of kings;
on the other hand, there are plenty of echoes of
the circumstances suggested in the Confession,
including what seem to me some clear allusions to
financial difficulties:
Electa Christi
talenta uendit euangelica Quae Hibernas inter
gentes cum usuris exigit;
Nauigi huius laboris
tum opere praetium
Cum Christo regni
caelestis possessurus gaudium.
|
He sells the
choice gospel-talents of Christ Which he has paid back
with interest among the Irish tribes;
As price for the labour of
the work of this voyage
He is to possess the
kingdom of heavens joy with Christ.
|
The financial images make the
point that whatever Patrick is giving away for
the sake of taking the Gospel to the Irish, he
will be paid back with interest in spiritual
terms; compensating, one guesses, for whatever
loss he may have incurred on the worldly plane.
Patrick may have proved an incompetent
administrator, he may have given away far too
much of the fledgling dioceses wealth
without providing for the future; but think of
what he has gained in terms of spiritual wealth!
Something of the same message
might be carried by two other verses,
Omnem pro
diuina lege mundi spernit gloriam Qui cuncta ad
cuius mensam aestimat quiscilia
|
In exchange (pro)
divine Law, he despises all the
worlds glory All of which,
compared to (ad) its Food (mensam),
he estimates (aestimat) as
valueless (quiscilia, i.e. quisquilia)
|
- language full of words
of valuing, estimating, absolute and comparative
value, and going back to the point of the immense
spiritual value, transcending all the
worlds glory, of Patricks activity.
Again,
Sacrum inuenit
thesaurum in uolumine Saluatoris in carne
deitatem peruidet
Quem thesaurum emit
sanctis perfectisque meritis:
Israel uocatur huius
anima uidens Deum.
|
He finds a holy
treasure in the Book, He sees the Saviours
godhood in the flesh,
Who buys a treasure by
holy and perfect merits:
His soul is called Israel
he who sees God
|
- where the emphasis, this time,
is on Patricks own personal
purchase of sanctity, rather than on
his exchange and sale of
Christian truth to the Irish. Even this,
however, is relevant, since there is a concealed
allusion to the story of Jesus and the rich young
man, who was told to go and sell all he had and
give it to the poor, and he would have a treasure
laid up in Heaven. Patrick does have such a
treasure, and the implication is that he has
indeed gone and sold all that he had for the sake
of the spiritually poor Irish.
These images have no particular
point in terms of the later Patrician legend,
where Patrick has nothing, spiritually or
otherwise, to do with merchants; it belongs with
a culture where the idea of sale and purchase, of
private rather than communal property, of wide
faring in search of bargains and treasures to buy
cheap and sell dear, are natural. I do not
have to underline how far they are from the
self-enclosed Irish economy of the early middle
ages, and how close to the Roman and
Mediterranean mind, mercantile from of old.
The Hymn speaks of Patricks
humility and chastity both characteristics
of the historical Patrick, who knew that he was
fighting temptation in the flesh every day, and
who had a very low opinion of his own abilities
of his hard work for his faithful (impiger)
and the excellent Apostolic example he provides
for them, such that those who are not converted
by his doctrine are drawn by his good actions (ut
quem dictis non conuertit acto prouocet bono);
leaving the impression that Patrick had actually
had quite a considerable success, as much by the
impression of his personality as by the force of
his preaching.
The amount of assumptions taken to
the Patrician material may be seen by
Dr.T.M.Charles-Thomas' remark that
"Prosper's remarks [that the mission to the
Irish made the barbarian island
Christian]... represent aspiration rather
than achievement". If we took
contemporary sources - Prosper, Patrick,
Secundinus, perhaps Leo the Great - to mean what
they say, we would have to conclude that the
mission was a resounding success; Prosper says
that Pope Celestine "...in appointing a
bishop to the Irish... made the barbarian island
Christian"; Patrick states that "God's
flock, with so much hard work, was growing
extremely well all over Ireland"; Leo claims
that the spiritual rule of Christian Rome has
extended triumphantly beyond the borders of the
old pagan empire. No doubt all these are
interested parties; but they knew what was going
on, and, with respect, neither I nor
Dr.T.M.Charles-Thomas do. We have no
evidence for the speed of the growth of
Cristianity in Ireland, and no reason to deny
that Patrick's mission was a spectacular success.
Indeed, would the anger and stubborn, voire
unprincipled resistance of the British episcopate
have arisen, unless Patricks new church
were strong enough to matter? Would they
have resisted his claim so ferociously, if he and
his church had been insignificant? Internal
evidence suggests that he not only organized a
great many already existing Christians, slaves
from pirate raids, merchants, resident aliens
from Britain and Gaul, but also converted so many
natives that already by the time of the Letter to
Coroticus he can identify his Church as
essentially, and himself adoptively, native
Irish: indignum est illis Hiberionaci sumus,
"it is a disgrace to them [=Coroticus'
raiders, or perhaps Patrick's enemies in Britain]
that we are Irish". Many of
those Irish converts will have been introduced to
Christianity by their slaves, a process noticed
by Orosius among the Goths and other continental
barbarians. This does not mean that Patrick
converted all Ireland, or even a majority of it;
but certainly there were enough converts,
including people of royal blood, to create a
Church strong enough to survive and eventually
prosper.
These allusions, however, are
outnumbered by the very frequent insistence on
Patricks episcopate, leadership,
shepherdship. The very first stanza informs
us that he is a Bishop (line 2); then we find
that his apostolate has been allotted (sortitus
est) by the Lord (line 11), Who chose him to teach
barbarian nations and fish for the
souls of believers [like Sts. Peter and Andrew]
(13-15); he is a nuntius, a messenger (as
he described himself: Deo meo pro quo
legationem fungo), and a minister, a servant,
of God, whose example is Apostolic (21-22), who
has glory with Christ and honour in this world
[i.e. is an outstanding man, a leader, even in
this life] (25); indeed, everyone venerates him
like an angel of God (26); God sent him like
Paul, an apostle to the Gentiles (27) to guide
men, as a leader (ducatum[27], from dux) to the
kingdom of God. He is a Gospel-light raised
high, a royal fortress on the highest hill, the
greatest in the kingdom of Heaven (41-45); a good
and faithful shepherd of Gods people,
chosen by God (57-58), who lays down his life for
them (60), whom the Saviour has made a pontiff
for his merits, to give orders (ut moneret)
to the soldiers of Heaven, the priests (61-62),
and, [like a king], feed and clothe them [like an
army] (63; the Hymn uses the technical term annona).
He is - again - the messenger of God (65), chosen
by Christ as His vicar on earth (81), and he will
reign, a saint, with the apostles (92)
specifically with the apostles, and not, as in
the common formula, also with the prophets,
martyrs, and all the company of the saints.
Why? Obviously, because bishops are the
successors of the apostles. The Hymn
returns not once, but six times (11, 13-15, 27,
57-58, 61-62, 81) to the idea that Patrick is a
bishop, and that his episcopate has been given
him by direct appointment from God. Episcupus
cuius apostolatum a Deo sortitus est
Dominus
illum elegit
quem Deus misit ut Paulum ad
gentes apostolum
quem Deus Dei elegit
custodire populum
Quem Saluatorem prouexit
pontificem
Christus illum sibi elegit in
terris uicarium; four times chosen by God,
twice by Christ the Saviour; a pontiff, a bishop,
an apostle, giving orders to the heavenly army of
priests, a shepherd of Gods people, a
leader, a guide to heaven, an ambassador of God:
the author did not want his message to be
mistaken in any way Patrick is not just an
exemplary but a legitimate Bishop and he
is so because his commission comes from God.
God Himself, not any power on earth, has
appointed this good shepherd Bishop.
This is the Patrick of the Letter
and the Confession, a bishop whose
appointment is controversial, but who is the
undoubted leader of the Irish church, and with a
strong sense of appointment from God; only he is
Patrick as seen by one of his followers, who,
while fully understanding the humility and
modesty of the man, regards him as the very
pattern of a shining Christian life, and is more
than disposed to believe in the Divine origin of
his mandate. The whole hymn is a battle
anthem for the supporters of Patricks claim
to the episcopate, which is the central theme, to
which all others are subservient. Neither
Patricks humility, nor his hard work, nor
his disregard of money and earthly glory, nor his
teaching of sound doctrine, nor his good example
to his people, are mentioned as often as the fact
that his mandate is directly from God. There
is no particular reason to doubt that it was
written by a companion of the Saint, and it makes
best sense as being another document, like both
the Patrician texts, of that period of bitter
struggle in which Patrick was nearly borne down
by ecclesial resistance to his episcopal claim.
And as the authorship in question is that of
Secundinus, it is worth pointing out that, while
Secundinus is universally reckoned as dying
before Patrick, all his death dates - 446/7/8 -
come a few years after my dating of the climax of
the struggle in Patricks probatio.
If the Hymn is actually
from Patricks lifetime, another interesting
point is that its Latinity is considerably finer
than Patricks own. It would seem that
one at least of Patricks devoted followers
was a man of considerably higher education than
his leader; the more telling, then, that the
author of the Hymn should be so devoted to
the author of the Letter and the Confession.
He treats his words as literary classics, or
rather as inspired literature, borrowing from
them liberally as he would from the Bible; the Hymn
is in effect an elaborate confection of Biblical
and Patrician terms.
The theme of the hymn seems to me
to date it, not in decades, but in years.
Its vigorous assertion of Patrick's episcopate
has no echo in later hagiographic legend, where
the very idea that other Christians could
challenge the validity of Patrick's ordination
would have sounded bizarre. On the other
hand, it not only agrees with but clarifies the
context of Letter and Confession:
their vague hints of a group of fratres
supporting his claim, and the suggestion of being
"recognized", like the prophets, abroad
but not by his own people, are fully confirmed:
there was a whole group of Christians in Ireland,
including an established network of ecclesiastics
of which one was capable of elaborate Latin
prose, who were proud and enthusiastic to have
the peccator indoctus et rusticissimus as
their bishop, indeed who regarded him as a living
saint. This sort of adoration towards a
living Christian leader is not untypical of the
period; it is, for instance, the attitude of
Sulpicius Severus to Martin of Tours, even while
Martin was alive.
The chapter of the damned,
7: Patricks date and life
For that matter, the annalistic
datum about the probatio must be one of
the few which cannot reflect later political
interests. It would be to no Irish
partys interests, up to and including
Armagh and Tara, to place the national
saints faith in doubt, even only to the
extent that it has to be probata by
anybody. The legendary Patrick is never
anything but flawless; it is unimaginable that
he, the coat-hanger for every national and local
sense of self-worth, carrying the whole
self-image of all Ireland, this kingly
island, as a Christian country, should
appear as fallible. The historical Patrick,
on the other hand, was a man of doubts and
self-doubt (one thing on which the anonymous
legend-maker of Whithorn had rightly seized), who
had committed a grave sin in his youth, who
thanked God for His patience with his slowness
and stupidity, and who felt tempted by sin every
day of his life. The annalistic entry suits
his character, and what is more it suits the
facts; for the one thing we know for certain
about the Saints life is that his faith was
publicly challenged by his ecclesiastical
superiors, in a way that all but destroyed his
good name. Also, the dating to Pope
Leos second year of reign contradicts the
Carney dating scheme, and suits the early dating
scheme which I hold to be correct.
Patrick went to Ireland a minimum
of 24 years after being consecrated priest by
Bishop Amator of Auxerre. If the latter had
ordained him, as canon law dictated, no earlier
than his thirtieth year, then he must have been
at least in his mid-fifties, in a time when
people aged fast; and there is no reason to doubt
that Amator had stuck to the letter of the law.
Patrick was 15 or so when he was abducted, 22 or
23 when he fled, and he spent a few years with
his family in Britain before vocation and,
perhaps, a certain restlessness, took him across
the sea to study for the priesthood. Throughout
his years as a priest, he had clearly kept in
close contact with his British kin, since when he
decided to go to Ireland it was the family who
opposed his decision: he describes their tears
and their offers of what he calls gifts in a tone that leaves no
doubt that he was there, and that this was a
typical family drama played out in one or two
rooms. Perhaps a few clerical friends of
the household were also present, since he
mentions the presence of seniores.
Unwarranted conclusions have been
drawn from Patrick's statement, in the Letter,
that he had educated a certain Irish presbyter ex
infantia. This is taken to mean
"from childhood", and to suggest that
since nobody could be consecrated a priest before
his thirtieth year, Patrick had brought up this
man "from childhood" and therefore had
been in Ireland for decades, at least as a priest
and probably as a bishop. But this theory
takes into account neither the nature of the Letter
as a document, nor the meaning of the word infantia.
First, about the Letter: do we expect
great precision of expression and category,
scrupulous definition of each person and thing,
in such a document? Do we heck! The
Letter was an angry and direct reaction to a
crime against Patrick's fledgling Church. It
is full of uncomposed emotion ("I am hated.
What shall I do, O Lord? I am very much
despised") and its expression is always
curter, more allusive, less descriptive even than
that of the Confession. Above all,
it is an urgent piece of diplomatic
correspondence, built on the implicit claim of
dignity for Patrick as a bishop, his Irish
converts as Christians, and his church as a real
church. Is he going to downplay the
position of priests he himself ordained? Is
he heck: to the contrary, he is going to play up
their dignity (and their ecclesiastic learning)
as high as he dares.
Second, about infantia: it
astonishes me that scholars with far more Latin
than I will ever have should not realize that no
Latin speaker - and Patrick, however clumsy his
Latin, was one - could fail to understand infans
and infantia primarily as a person
unable to speak clearly and connectedly and the
state of such a person (from negative in
plus verb fari, to speak articulately and
with ease; hence facundus, eloquent); the
terms were only applied to children and childhood
by derivation. In Jerome, the ablest Latin
writer of the period, inarticulate is
undeniably the word's main meaning: his contrary
for infantissimus is loquax (Letter
50.5), English loquacious, or
"talkative". The primary meaning
of Patricks quem ego ex infantia docui
is "whom I educated from a state of complete
ignorance; whom I taught to speak fluent Latin
when he had none" - in fact, it would be one
of his clearer and more proper usages. Patrick's
point was that this man might have been born an
Irishman, completely infacundus and infans
in the language of the Church, but that he was
now quite out of his infantia and a proper
qualified priest. And let us never forget
Patrick's way of sticking to the point: while the
statement that Patrick had brought this man up
"from childhood" would be quite
irrelevant to his arguments in the Letter
- which centre on the validity of his mission and
of the church he had set up - to say that he had
taught a man, out of a state of complete
ignorance of Latin, to the point where he could
legitimately be consecrated as a priest would be
very much to the point. His converts are
not only good Christians: some of them are
educated enough to take orders.
Not to put too much weight on
this, the least that can be said is that the word
infantia cannot validly be used to argue
that Patrick had been a bishop for decades when
he wrote the Letter. Patrick could
perfectly well have taught a favoured Irishman -
or even an exiled Briton - ex infantia in
only a few years, teaching him to write and read
Latin to his own not exactly exacting standards,
taking him through a course of Biblical
instruction (he certainly knew enough Scripture),
and teaching him the skills of the trade of
priest, which he had practised for decades.
For that matter, we are not even told that he
began teaching this priest after he came to
Ireland - it is, of course, more unlikely than
not, but he might perfectly well have had him in
hand before taking up his missionary work, both
of them being, one supposes, British/Irish exiles
at the court of St.Germanus.
My chronology, however, demands
that Patricks parents should be really
remarkably long-lived. If Patrick went to
Ireland in his mid-fifties in 431 or so, then by
the time he was probatus by the Pope, he
was in his mid-sixties; and he mentions that his parentes
- a word which means in Latin exactly the same as
in English - are still alive, and that he dearly
wishes he could see them. Even today, we
would not expect a man of about 65 to have both
parents still alive. However, a couple of
points make it psychologically suitable to the
story we are told. To begin with,
Patricks eagerness, frustrated by the
urgent need of his Irish converts, to see his
parents, would be highly understandable. It
might be the last time. Also, the tearful
home scene when the family found that Patrick
meant to return to Ireland strongly suggest that
parents were involved; it is fathers and mothers,
much more than siblings, who burst into tears and
try every device of moral blackmail when a
favoured son seems about to take an unacceptable
path. What is completely unimaginable is
that he should have been a bishop for decades:
who can imagine a twenty-year-old raised to
bishop, even in a missionary see? Except,
of course, for the vindictive legend-writer from
St.Ninian's see.
The final argument for Patrick's
date - which, to my mind, is conclusive - is how
completely anachronistic his writings would be in
the second half of the century, whatever picture
we form of it. Patrick was fiercely at odds
with the authorities of the British church: why
did he not mention, either in the Confession
or in the Letter, the Saxon war and the
wrecking of Roman Britain? If we take
Patrick to have died in 492, and unless we accept
the legends that make him die at an age that
would make the Guinness Book of Records swoon in
amazement, this makes no sense. Patrick
would have been born in the 420/430s. Kidnapped
from his home in the 440s, he would return to a
country devastated by the Saxon wars after
several years of slavery, and only after several
more years, ordained a priest and a bishop, would
return to Ireland. He would have
plenty of time to familiarize himself with the
changed circumstances of a Britain where the
Saxons were either the overlords or the great
enemy; the end of the late-Roman world of rich
country estates and cultured gentlemanly upper
classes could hardly have escaped him. Patrick
is a writer to whom the end of the world is not a
distant idea but a close and present fact. He
repeats time and again that these are the last
days, and indeed takes his own mission as a sign
of the impending end, associating his preaching
"to the lands beyond which there lives
nobody" with the Gospel prophecy that
"the gospel shall be preached to every human
being, and then the end shall come"; if he
had seen the end of the world of his childhood in
the apocalyptic circumstances described by Gildas
- a Saxon revolt as short as it was savage, as
conclusive as it was short, as destructive as it
was conclusive - do we believe for a minute that
he would not mention it? Do we believe for
a minute that he would not throw this sign of the
displeasure of God in the face of his episcopal
British enemies? Come on, now.
But it is not only as an allusion
to contemporary conditions that this statement
forbids a late date; it is, even more, as a
sample of cultural assumptions. In the new
Celtic world of Gildas, the relationship of the
ruling classes to culture - any culture - and
learning - any learning - was quite different
from that of the late-Roman world of Ausonius,
and Patrick. This is a matter quite
different from the kind of culture and learning
involved. We may regard the civilization of
Ausonius as advanced, and that of the historical
Taliesin as barbarous (I certainly do), we may
regard the poetry of Taliesin as superior to that
of Ausonius (I certainly do), but whichever view
we take of it, we have to realize that Ausonius
and Taliesin had at least this in common, that
they were especially learned in whatever it was
that their culture regarded as learning. They
were learned and poets by definition. But
Ausonius was himself a great lord; Taliesin was
in the service of one. This is the
difference. From the days of Plato and
Aristotle, Classical culture was something of a
caste prerogative of the senatorial and
landholding classes, not in a negative, but in a
positive way: that is, while there was no stated
prohibition on "other ranks" becoming
educated, high-born people from families with a
tradition of political activity were expected to
be cultured. This had a very practical
side: rhetoric and law were fundamental parts of
a gentleman's education, and at the same time a
direct instrument of power, welded in the
courtroom, the senate-house, the court, and the
church. Patrick felt very keenly his lack
of this traditional political tool, and
vigorously developed his own self-made
substitute.
In Gildas' world, however, even
when the great territorial lords happened to be
learned themselves, their role was to employ
learned men; I mean that it was not part of their
own role to make use of learning in their own
interests. Maglocunus was learned enough,
but he employed learned men in his own service,
and it was they who used or abused the skill of
learning in his service. Gildas thunders
against these furciferi, villainous
individuals - in whom we are startled to
recognize the bards which romantic legend has
bathed with something of a glow - hired to sing
and scream, however insincerely, the praises of
their master (the screaming may easily be heard
in the vehement tones of the historical Taliesin:
"And until I am old and fading/ in the dire
grip of death/ I shall never be satisfied/ if I
don't praise Urien!"), and, when it comes to
a particularly dastardly deed, delegated to find
some sort of legal excuse, like the consigliori
of a Mafia boss (Maglocunus'
"legitimate" marriage with a
"widow"!).
This is in sharp contradiction
with the Patrician view of the great lords of his
country; and let us not forget that to him they
were a very live, very contemporary fact - the
people against them that he felt he was striving.
Coroticus, though he stands out because of his
crime, is in fact an exception in Patrick's
world; the saint does not feel any qualms about
denying his Roman identity. Romans, even
wicked Romans, were never like this -
"living in the evil ways of the Scots and
the apostate Picts". His standard
opponents, described as a group in the
Confession, were high lords, who spoke classical
Latin from birth, and who were learned in
rhetoric, Christian scriptures, administration,
and law. They did not need, like Maglocunus
and Urien Rheged, to hire specialists of learning
to sing their praises and justify the legality of
their deeds; they could do all those things by
themselves. In short, they were in no wise
distinguishable from Ausonius and his class. And they were
still in full power when the Confession
was written. On the other hand, the
tradition of the dependency of legal and bardic
specialists upon territorial lords who were not
themselves either bards or lawyers runs through
the history of Wales until its end: in the
twelfth-century Life of St.Cadoc, the
assembled saints of Britain decide a case of
justice according to the ancient legal traditions
of the ministri, the servants, of
the kings of Britain.
Annals can and do lie; but a man
cannot lie about his basic social assumptions,
about the things he does not even think about
because they are as natural to him as the air he
breathes. And the social ideas of Patrick
were obsolete, in Britain, by 480. The
superior value of Roman citizenship was obvious
to Patrick; it was not to A. The direct
connection between classical learning (whatever
happened to be classical, that is) and high
social position was obvious to Patrick; it was
not to Gildas or to Taliesin. I will add a
few extra points.
1) Patrick's anxious longing to
visit his home - so often frustrated by the
Spirit - implies that he expects it to be largely
unchanged from the days of his childhood and
youth. This presumes a stable society.
2) Patrick's word for his own lack
of education was rusticitas, a word that
only has any meaning when the city is as
unchallenged a standard of education and manners
as the sun is in the sky; it is to be noted that
Gildas never once uses it, nor its opposite urbanitas,
even for his opponents. Gildas' standard
for gentleness and gentility is not the urban
person, but the consecrated servant of the
Church, singing his sacred songs.
3) The man whom Patrick saw in his
famous vision was probably Victricius, bishop of
Rotomagus, who was among the first
to run the risk of evangelizing barbarous and
violent non-Roman peoples on the borders of the
Empire, and who claruescit in the first
couple of decades of the fifth century. Patrick
is most likely to have been impressed by the
story of his work when that work was still a live
issue, early in the century; and this agrees with
his knowing Gaul - especially on the
ecclesiastical side - and being there at the time
of the great Frankish raids of 420/430.
To conclude, here is my
approximate chronology for the life of the
historical Patrick:
- before 377: he is born in a
quite Romanized area of Britain's western, or
perhaps southern, coast, from a Christian and
rather clerical family (grandfather a priest,
father a deacon and a decurion);
- before 392: he takes part in a
public act of pagan worship, probably to the Sun.
Shortly after, he is taken, along with
"thousands" of people from that
district, in an Irish slaving raid. (His
parents, however, seem to have managed to escape
capture, since they were there to welcome him
when he escaped.)
- before 398: after six years of
slavery, during which he developed his Christian
faith and gained some sort of leading or notable
position among neighbouring Christian slaves, he
escapes and makes his way back to his parents in
Britain. (He may perhaps have missed the
worst of the 407-410 disruption in Gaul and
Spain).
- before 407: his vocation leads
him to the priesthood. For reasons he does
not explain in the Confession, he does not
stay in Britain, but goes to Gaul, is ordained by
Amator, bishop of Auxerre, and takes a post among
the diocesan clergy of his successor Germanus.
(It is perhaps worth noting that this takes him
away from the territory of the pretender imperial
government of Britain and to territory still
offering allegiance to the legitimate rulers in
Ravenna.)
- between 407 and 429: no evidence
of any outstanding activity on his part. He
seems to have been very impressed by the
activities of his superiors in freeing the
prisoners of Frankish raiders ca.425.
- 429. Following the
dethronement of the Mild King and the religious
crisis, Germanus travels to Britain and manages
to force the expulsion of the Pelagians. It
is not too much to hazard that, as a British
Roman, Patrick might have come to his superior's
attention, perhaps for the first time: he may
have questioned him about local conditions and
attitudes. (Patrick certainly kept in touch
with his family across the Channel.) The
most prominent Pelagians migrate to Ireland and
maintain contacts with Britain.
- 429-431: Following Germanus'
journey, an Irish diocese is planned and set up
under Palladius, a former deacon in either
Auxerre or Rome. Setting up a diocese
involves of course not only selecting a bishop,
but finding the necessary administrative and
ecclesiastical staff and making sure that they
have the resources: given the distractions in
these dreadful years - the Vandal war in Africa,
the schisms that led to the Council of Ephesus,
the chaos in the West - the fact that it took
only two years from conception to completion
shows that the Pope and all those involved placed
a high priority on it. The anecdote in the additamenta
to Tirechan suggests that Germanus was involved
in the search for suitable churchmen with Irish
experience, and that he singled out Iserninus and
Patrick.
- 431-2: Patrick takes up his new
missionary post. Palladius dies suddenly in
Britain, leaving the mission leaderless.
- after 432: Patrick is elected
head of the mission. The British church
questions his legitimacy and the old scandal of
his youthful participation in pagan rites is
raked up. Two factors may possibly
influence the attitude of the British bishops:
surviving Pelagian sympathies, at which Patrick
hints, and a claim to Ireland by the large
northern diocese of Whithorn. At some point
in this period Coroticus, perhaps egged on by
Whithorn, which would have been his diocese
(there is no record of a diocese of Strathclyde
until St.Kentigern a century and a half later),
raids Patrick's converts in the most atrocious
manner and at the time when it would do Patrick
most harm.
437: Prominent Pelagian leaders
reappear in a British region. Germanus, in one of
his last public acts, travels to the island and
procures their arrest and conviction; but this is
evidence of continuing contacts between exiled
Pelagians and Roman Britain. They were
probably very active in Ireland.
440 or 441: the new Pope, Leo I,
hears Patrick's case and accepts his orthodoxy
(it is possible that Patrick's case may have been
cruelly dragged on by the death of the previous
incumbent: if Leo gave his judgement within his
second year of reign, he must have found the
matter on his in-tray when he was elected).
The British bishops still insist on summonsing
him to Britain.
442: The Saxon revolt probably
distracts the British episcopate from their
attempts to destroy Patrick's mission.
446/7/8: Secundinus dies. Before
he died, he had written a Hymn in defence
of Patrick's character and claims.
454: Loegaire, son of Niall -
whose predecessors had shown no sympathy to the
Christian mission, or at least to Patrick's
Catholic diocese - becomes king of Tara. It
is possible that he may have invited Patrick to
the ceremony, or shortly afterwards, as part of a
less hostile policy. Patrick had by then
been leader of Ireland's Catholics for more than
twenty years, and his moral character as well as
his rank must have entitled him to the
consideration of a man who claimed to be king of
the kings of Ireland.
457 or 461/2: Patrick dies.
Notes
History
of Britain, 407-597 is copyright © 2002, Fabio
P. Barbieri. Used with permission.
Comments
to: Fabio P.
Barbieri
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