This seems to me a thing to be
noticed that just as the men of this country are during this mortal
life more prone to anger and revenge than any other race, so in
eternal death the saints of this land that have been elevated by
their merits are more vindictive than the saints of any other region.
- Gerald of Wales, The
Topography of Ireland (transl. by John O'Meara)
A priest accosted by a werewolf
Courtesy of British Library
In
this blogpost I'm looking at Gerald of Wales' presentation of some
Irish saints in his famous work Topographica Hiberniae
which was composed in the latter half of the 1180s. The book is in
part a recollection of things Gerald heard or witnessed during his
trips to Ireland in the period 1183-85. On his second visit he was a
part of King Henry II's retinue and was the tutor of his son John.
When Gerald returned to Ireland in 1185, he was part of John's
retinue. Gerald was also related to members of the Anglo-Norman
invasion force, and was therefore doubly invested in the Anglo-Norman
campaign to subdue Ireland.
It is in this
context Gerald's comments on Ireland and its people must be
understood, and in this blogpost I wish to see how Gerald's treatment
of Ireland's saints can be explained by context of invasion and
subjugation (I hesitate to use the term "colonial context").
The fish with three gold teeth
Courtesy of British Library
Gerald's
views on the Irish saints as expressed in the epigraph are found as
the last chapter of part two of his
Topographia hiberniae.
In this chapter, Gerald records the wonders, the miracles and the
holy men and women of Ireland. The chapter begins with natural
wonders, such as a fish with three gold teeth, or the wonderful well
of Munster whose water turned things put into it grey. After these
natural wonders, Gerald moves on to wonders pertaining to men and
beasts, and he records a boy of Wicklow who was a man in most
physiognomical respects, but whose nose, eyes, hands and feet
resembled those of an ox. This deformed boy was regularly given food
at the court of Maurice fitzGerald, one of Gerald's relatives and one
of the leaders of the Anglo-Norman invasion of Ireland.
The werewolves of St Natalis
Courtesy of British Library
Saint Natalis and the Werewolves
As for
the Irish saints, their vindictive nature becomes apparent already in
the first story in Gerald's catalogue of animal wonders. The story
tells of a priest who was travelling through a wood together with a
young boy, and after they had lit up a fire for the night a wolf came
up to them and started speaking. In order to calm them down, the wolf
spoke about God - and said reasonable and Catholic things, Gerald
notes - and then he explained what he wanted:
We
are natives of Ossory. From there every seven years, because of the
imprecation of a certain saint, namely the abbot Natalis, two
persons, a man and a woman, are compelled to go into exile not only
from their territory but also from their bodily shape. They put off
the form of man compltely and put on the form of wolf. When the seven
years are up, and if they have survived, two others take their place
in the same way, and the first pair return to their former country
and nature.
- Topography of Ireland, chapter 52
(translated by John O'Meara)
The
wolf then goes on to explain that his "companion in this
pilgrimage" is close to death, and he asks the priest to give
her the solace of divine mercy at her life's end. The priest agrees
and after some exhortation also gives the dying woman the last rites,
including the communion. This story bears some echoes of an old
Celtic tale where two brothers are punished by being sent into the
woods as a he-wolf and a she-wolf. They later return in their human
shape and with the children they have incestuously reared while
bearing the shape of wolf. This is not to say that Gerald knew this
story, or that it had any impact on the anecdote related above, but
it suggests a deep-rooted belief in lycanthropy in Irish folklore.
More interesting for my purpose here, is the detail that the fate of
these wolves was ordained by St Natalis as a punishment, perhaps a
particularly Irish punishment at that, which presents us right away
with the vindictive nature of the Irish saints.
St Kevin and the blackbird
Courtesy of British Library
The Curse of Saint Kevin
Another example
of this vindictiveness is related in chapter 61, which tells about St
Kevin, "a great confessor of the faith". Kevin is perhaps
most famous for his patience exhibited when, during the saint's
prayer, a blackbird started building a nest in his outstretched hand,
which was the subject of
a poem by Seamus Heaney. In kindness to the
bird, Kevin did not move until the birds were hatched, and Gerald
notes that because of this, the blackbird features in the
iconographical representations of the saint. However, Gerald also
tells us about Kevin's vengefulness to birds. We are told that on his
feast days, the ravens of Glendalough are "prevented by a curse
of Saint Kevin" from being on the ground and from eating, so the
birds fly about the village and make "a great noise". The
reason for this curse, Gerald speculates, might be that the ravens
had caused one of Kevin's students to spill some milk.
The teal of St Colman
Courtesy of British Library
The Teal of Saint Colman
The
next chapter records a story in which saintly vindictiveness is
protecting rather than harming birds. Here Gerald tells of some teal
inhabiting a lake in Leinster, who have resided there since the time
of St Colman (it is not specified when that time was). These birds
are tame enough to take food from people's hands, but
[w]henever
any injury or molestation happens to the church, the clergy, or
themselves, they go off to a lake at some distance, and do not return
to their former abode until due satisfaction has been made. In the
meantime during their absence the waters of the lake, which before
were limpid and clear, become brackish and dirty, and cannot be use
either for man or beast.
-
Topography of
Ireland, chapter 62 (translated by John O'Meara)
Gerald further
records that once a teal was accidentally brought back from the lake
with some cooking water, but although the water was cooking for a
long time, the bird - thanks, no doubt, to the miraculous protection
of St Colman - remained unhurt. Similarly, Gerald tells of a story
happening "in our own times" when the Anglo-Norman invader
Robert fitzStephen travelled through the area in the company of King
Dermot of Leinster. An archer, ostensibly belonging to the retinue of
King Dermot, shot one of the teal and tried to cook it for his king.
When he showed King Dermot the miserable result of hours and hours of
cooking, the king understood that this was a bird protected by
Colman, and exclaimed "Alas form me! That this misfortune should
ever have happened in my house". The archer perished miserably a
short while after.
The anecdote is
relatively sparing in contextual detail, but it is tempting to see
King Dermot's fear of St Colman's vengeance in the light of his
apparent alliance with the Anglo-Normans, dreading perhaps that his
seemingly secure standing would change in the vicissitudes of
occupation. Or perhaps this anecdote can be seen as Gerald's warning
to the Anglo-Norman barons and their soldiers, that although the
subjugation of Ireland is right - since they presented as a nation of
bestial and uncivilised men - they should not suffer needless
injuries, and nor should their churches be plundered. This should be
seen in light of part three of the book, where Gerald gives praise to
the Irish clergy, both monks and priests, although he reproves them
for lack of discipline.
Minor incidents and lack of
vermin
After the anecdote about the teal of St Colman, Gerald soon comes to
some minor examples of the powers of Irish sanctity. The first of
these is treated in chapter 64, where we are told of a village in
Connacht which was "celebrated for a church of Saint Nannan".
Once this village was badly infested with fleas, but St Nannan had
them miraculously brought to a meadow close by, where the fleas were
confined and made it inaccessible to men and beasts alike.
A
similar story follows in chapter 65, where we learn of the district
of Ferneginan. Here lived Bishop Yvor, who was so plagued by rats
eating his books that he cursed them, and the result was that they
all were expelled from Ferneginan, and from that day on, it was
impossible for rats to live in that district. If rats were to be
brought in, they would die. This particular anecdote becomes even
more interesting because of its similarities to the supposition noted
by Gerald in chapters 21 and 22 that poisonous reptiles are not found
in Ireland. This is an old story, and the legend states that it was
St Patrick who drove the snakes and other reptiles from the island.
Gerald records this belief as a "pleasant conjecture that Saint
Patrick and other saints of the land purged the island of all harmful
animals", but goes on to suggest that Ireland must have been
without these creatures from the beginning of the island's existence.
However, this does not explain why reptiles brought into the island
perish upon entering the the land, and in chapter 23 Gerald suggests
that this has to do with qualities in the Irish soil rather than
saintly protection. What is significant about this, is that in
chapter 48 Gerald tells how the jurisdiction of the island of Man was
granted to Britain rather than Ireland, because poisonous reptiles
could live there. And already in chapter 25 Gerald has recorded the
discovery of a live frog near Waterford - significantly where the
Anglo-Norman invaders entered Ireland in 1174 - which was taken as a
sign by King Duvendalus "of the coming of the English, and the
imminent conquest and defeat of his people". Ireland allows for
heretofore alien reptiles and prepares itself to allow the
Anglo-Norman conquest. But the saints are not in the picture, they
are not relinquishing patronage nor endorsing the invaders, it is the
soil itself that changes - although presumably through divine
machinations. Gerald does not pit Irish saints against English
saints, but relies instead on what we might call scientific
rumination to explain the relationship of reptiles to Ireland.
The book-eating rats of Ferneginan
Courtesy of British Library
Miracles of St Brigid
The next saint to be treated in Gerald's catalogue of wonders is "the
glorious Brigid". Some miracles pertaining to St Brigid's fire
are mentioned, and a longer account is given of a falcon in Kildare
who was believed to have lived there since the time of Brigid (i.e.
several generations). This bird is used by Gerald as an example "of
honour to churchmen", because during its mating season it flew
away from the hallowed precincts of the church where it resided and
fornicated elsewhere. The bird "was killed by a rustic" at
the time when John, son of King Henry, departed from Ireland the
first time.
For my purpose here, however, the significant aspect of St Brigid's
powers is her protection of a hedge which surrounds the perpetual
fire which is kept burning by her devotees. Since only women are
allowed to perform the office as fire-keepers, a man who crosses the
hedge "does not escape the divine vengeance". The curse of
St Brigid also prevents goats to "have young here".
St
Brigid's hedge is described in chapter 69, and Gerald returns to it in
chapter 77 where we learn of an archer belonging to the retinue of
the Anglo-Norman earl Richard. The archer crossed the hedge and blew
upon the saint's fire and immediately went mad. The chapter concludes
with an anecdote about a man who had only gotten his shin across the
hedge before he was pulled back, and consequently lost his leg. This
kind of violent territorial protection is not a feature unique to the
Irish saints. Several instances are found in hagiographical texts
from all over the Latin West, perhaps most famously St Edmund's
killing of Sweyn Forkbeard at Bury St Edmunds. However, when seen in
the context of Anglo-Norman invasion and settlement, this anecdote
seems to reinforce Gerald's preoccupation with the importance of
respecting the Irish places of religion. It seems as if common
decency can't prevent the invaders from violating the churches,
perhaps a fear of the vengeance of saints might be of help.
Protection of the Land
Keeping in this vein, in the following chapters we find several
anecdotes rehearsing the dangers of encroaching upon land belonging
to the Irish saints. Chapter 78 contains an anecdote about a soldier
who had unlawfully expropriated land belonging to St Finbar in Cork.
The bishop of the place, in sadness and anger, asked God (rather
Finbar himself) not to allow this land to bear fruit. God listened to
the bishop and performed the requested miracle "through the
merits of the holy man" (although we are left uncertain as to
whether this is Finbar the saint or the bishop of Cork).
The next chapter records how two Anglo-Normans were punished for
their lack of piety. The first was Philip of Worcester who forced
tribute from the clergy of Armagh, the seat of St Patrick, during
Lent. On his departure from Armagh, Philip "was stricken with an
illness and scarcely survived". Then we are told of Hugh Tyrrell
who stole a cooking-pot from the clergy of Armagh, and the night
after he had returned to his lodgings in Louth a fire broke out that
burned down a great part of the settlement, killing two horses that
had carried the pot away from Armagh. Tyrrell himself was later cast
into a civil strife between Anglo-Norman factions. Although it is not
elaborated upon, the two aforementioned anecdotes are related to
injuries committed against the clergy of Armagh, i.e. under the
protection of Patrick, patron of Ireland.
After these vengeful miracles of St Patrick, we are presented with
two revenges performed by St Fechin, who was very protective of a
mill in Meath, which he had himself cut "out of the side of a
rock". When a archer in the army of Hugh de Lacy raped a girl
there, he "was stricked in his member with hell-fire in sudden
vengeance and immediately began to burn throughout his whole body. He
died the same night". Fechin's protection of his mill was not
only concerned with violent injuries, but also with minor
occurrances. In chapter 82, Gerald tells that two horses who had
eaten stolen corn from the mill died afterwards.
Bernard and the horn of St Brendan
Courtesy of British Library
Confessors, not martyrs
Gerald's
Topographia
hiberniae
is to a great degree a document intended to justify the Anglo-Norman
conquest of Ireland, yet as we have seen it is apparent that Gerald
is concerned with the proper conduct of the conquerors. Ireland is
lawfully occupied by the Anglo-Normans because, as is suggested in
part three, the Irish are uncivilised and maintain evil customs (ch.
100), not all of them have been baptised (ch. 103) and their kingship
ritual contains element of bestiality (ch. 102). However, Ireland and
its places are not completely up for grabs, for the Irish saints are
protecting their clergy, their pastures and their holy places with a
fearful vengeance and they must therefore be respected. Furthermore,
despite some shortcomings in discipline and religious practice, the
Irish clergy has many good qualities, and its people has a proper
respect for saints and their relics. As an example of this, Gerald
includes in chapter 108 an anecdote that happened in Wales, where an
Irishman carried a horn which was a relic of St Brendan. The horn was
held in such great reverence that nobody dared to blow it, and when a
Welsh priest did this, he turned mad and had to learn the psalter
from the start.
However,
despite the vindictiveness "in which the saints of this country
seem to be very interested", the saints of Ireland appear to
have accepted the coming of the Anglo-Normans. An explanation for
this is offered by Gerald in chapter 105, in which he provides
further comments on the nature of the Irish saints. For he states
that
all the saints
of this country are confessors, and there is no martyr. It would be
difficult to find such a state of things in any other Christian
kingdom. There was found no one in thise parts to cement the
foundations of the growing church with the shedding of his blood.
There was no one to do this service; not a single one.
- Topography of
Ireland, chapter 105 (translated by John O'Meara)
These
lines are very important for several reason. Although Gerald
emphasises the sanctity of the Irish holy men and women, it appears
that he suggests there is no protector of Ireland as a whole, not
even the venerable Patrick. Gerald blames the Irish prelates for this
state of affairs, because none of them have stood up for their
church, or shed blood or suffered exile for its cause. Since this is
written less than twenty years after the martyrdom of Thomas Becket
(d.1170), for which King Henry II was punished and for which he
sought reparation, it is tempting to suggest that Gerald has the
model of Becket in mind when he chastises the Irish clergy. He then
recounts a comment made by the Archbishop of Cashel:
'It
is true,' he said, 'that although our people are very barbarous,
uncivilized, and savage, nevertheless they have always paid great
honour and reverence to churchmen, and they have never put out their
hands against the saints of God. But now a people has come to the
kingdom which knows how, and is accustomed, to make martyrs. From now
on Ireland will have its martyrs, just as other countries.'
The archbishop's words are chilling and seem prophetic in such a
short time after the battle at Waterford, and the canonisation of
Becket (1169/70 and 1173 respectively). However, Gerald states that the
archbishop's comment, although hard-hitting, does not invalidate
Gerald's opinion on the Irish prelates.
Saints and the conquest of
Ireland
A final point is worth noting in Gerald's treatment of the Irish
saints. As stated, the holiness of the Irish saints remains
undisputed and their vengeful patronage are held up as a perennial
warning against misconduct against the Irish churches. In chapter 97,
Gerald records how the Anglo-Normans themselves showed their due
respect for the native saints of Ireland:
Saint Columba
and Saint Brigid were contemporaries of Patrick. Their three bodies
were buried in Ulster in the same city, namely, Down. They were found
there in our times, in the year, that is, that Lord John first came
to Ireland, in a cave that had three sections. Patrick was lying in
the middle, and the others were lying one on either side. John de
Courci, who was in command there, took charge when these three noble
treasures were, through divine revelation, found and translated.
- The
Topography of Ireland, chapter 97 (translated by John O'Meara)
In
other words, through the revelatory will of God, the Anglo-Norman
conquerors have become devotees of Ireland's three major saints, and
the patrons of Ireland are now the patrons of the Anglo-Normans. The
episode is reminiscent of the legend of the seven sleepers at Ephesus
recorded at length by Osbert of Clare in his hagiography of Edward
the Confessor (c.1138). It is also interesting for its resemblance to
similar aspects of Plantagenet appropriation of popular belief. In
1198 the remains of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere were reported to
have been found in Glastonbury, thus proving to the Celtic world that
Arthur was not resting at Avalon or anywhere else, but was dead and
buried. In the late 1200s, King Edward I, during his Welsh campaign,
had Arthur's remains translated and perhaps even canonised (although
informally so since it was never accepted by the papal church). The
purpose was the same at both these instances: to expropriate local
history, and display the dynasty's reverence of and protection from
these legendary figures.
It is tempting to suggest that this strategy had also been used by
the Anglo-Norman conquerors in Ireland, and although Gerald does not
elaborate on the importance of this revelation in any great degree,
it might explain why Gerald's concern is to warn about local
patronage and vindictiveness rather than worrying about the revenge
of the great patrons of Ireland.
The making of an Irish king
Courtesy of British Library
.jpg)
