Chapter Seven
5th and 6th Centuries,and a wee bit later.
Patrick was dead, and that was as true as the tales told, in all the chapters of this history, and for that end, it was and is as true as we want it to be.
Oh it was the best thing to happen when the holy Patrick was brought to Ireland, humble and in chains, to show the God fear’n people the error of their ways, and bring them all to the One and only True God of Justice, Charity and Mercy. Aye, a grand day it was, and the Irish have been Christians ever since. Indeed we have. been the Keeper’s of the Faith, through thick and thin, through fire and flood, famine and persecution, right down to the present.
Patrick changed the nature of the people, from murderous drunken pagans to gentle Christian men and women, loving the Lord and their neighbors as themselves: that he did, and only a Protestant Englishman would be saying otherwise…unbelieving heathens.
The Irish indeed produced many Saints and Holy men in those early Christian years: Saint Ailbe of Emily, Saint Benignus of Armagh, Saint Fliech of Sletty, Saint Mel of Ardath, Mochay of Antrim, Moctheus of Louth, Ibar of Beg-Erin, Asicus of Elphin, Olcan of Dercon, Saint Brigid…not to mention the holy Saint Columba, or Columkille, Columba-of -the-Church…he who was of royal blood. On his father’s side he was descended from the Niall of the Nine Hostages, and his mother’s side from one of the three brothers who set up the Scottish monarchy in Argyle.
It was when Murtough succeeded Lewy as king of Ireland (him being killed by lightning, if you have a mind to remember), and it was this same Murtough that supported a group of chiefs in the invasion of Alba, now called Argyle .It was a fellow named Fergus, kin of Saint Columba’s mother, that was the one chosen and crowned on the Stone of Scone (Lia Fail), and being an Irishman, was the first Scottish king, or that part of it that they occupied. And so it was during the reign of Murtough, a good and Christian king that the Irish killed enough of the picts, which continued to roam over the rest of the land, to establish themselves firmly and finally in Scotland. Murtough’s Christianity did not prevent him from giving his blessing to those of his relatives who tried and did exterminate the Picts. Nor did it stop him from doing battle at home in Leinster, in an attempts to extract his “cow” tribute. One cold winter evening he drowned, trying to save himself, in a keg of ale into which he dived when his house was on fire. It is always the curse of the Irish, that if you did not die by the sword, then you would most likely die by the drink.
The Picts were finally subdued by the year 850 by Kenneth MacAlpin, who became the first king of all Scotland, with his throne at Scone. So you now know that Scotland was called Scotland because of the Scots, who were Irish, and that is as plain as the nose on your face.
Now Murtough was succeeded by Tuathal Maelgarbh, who reigned for eleven years, till he was murdered, keeping alive the old ways, and Diarmaid, ancestor of the McDermotts became the next king., and this is how Saint Columba came to be having trouble with him.
There was a Saint Finnen that had lent Saint Columba a book of scriptures, and some time later, this Finnem went to the king and stating his case added: “This fellow is not returning it, and without permission he’s copying it…could ya be after getting it back for me, do ya think me lord?”
The king ordered Columba to return the book, together with any piece he’d copied.
“He can be have’n the book,” Columba was heard to say,”…but the copy is mine!”
“You may be a holy man after Patrick himself, and having the power of the Word…but I am the high king you motherless wonder, and my word is the law of this land!” the king said in as friendly a voice as a man could without placing his battle axe within the other man’s head. “Good for you to remember that the calf should follow the cow…now Finnen gets both!”
Now Columba being a good and caring man, one that thought the laws of man were but foot steps to the laws of God as Patrick himself had put before them “Resistance is futile“, considered the words of the wise king for some time, and still found them to be an injustice, which as you know is the nature and habit of all the celtic peoples of this world…”And what the bloody hell do cows having to do with it?”
Now about the same time there came to be a fellow named Curnan, himself a son of the king of Connaught, did kill a man in a fight, which was normal behaviour and no crime in itself, but he did it during the Assembly at Tara, where talking was compulsory and fighting, well killing anyway, was forbidden.
“Sanctuary!” Curnan cried to Columba. “I claim sanctuary from him and his…and place my life in your holy care!”
“Sanctuary is it now? From King Diarmaid himself?
“Aye!”
“Aye, grand and granted!” said the holy man. “Sit yourself down…Mrs Doyle, tay and scones would ya please!”
“Like bloody hell it is! We’ll be see’n about that!” said the king, and waiting till Columba was away… for Diarmaid was no fool, and knew the power and the word of those holy men: did not Patrick himself with “…your biological n’ technological distinctiveness will be added to ours…” converted half the place, and it being well known that all those holy men had the weapon of women, the power to argue…and dragged Curnan out and executed him, then and there. And there was a look upon the face of the king , that all those there knew he was thinking about executing Columba also.
Columba, believing the word of God was more powerful than the battle axes of man, still thought it best to head for the border…for he was no Patrick…which he crossed, and told his story to his proud and high-born relatives, who reached for their spears.
Now it came to place a mighty battle was fought, at Cooldrevny, in Carbury, north of Sligo, where three thousand of the king’s warriors were killed, where upon Diarmaid called a synod of the clergy of Meath, to excommunicate this son of the chruch. But they decided in Columba’s favour…and is it not the same today when the church is under attack, to close ranks and take care of their own.
Columba thought this king would get him sooner or later, for it is also the nature of the Irish to forgive, but never forget, and be looking for a safer place. This he found on the island of Iona, which was given to him by a kinsman, the king of Argyle. It was from here, with his disciples, he traveled out and converted the Picts, the one’s that Murtough’s kin and clan, did not kill.
It was here at Iona that a celebrated monastic institution and the headquarters of Saint Columba’s holy order was set.
Diarmaid was the last king of Ireland to reside at Tara. He made the mistake of violating the sanctuary of Saint Rodanus, a more powerful fellow then Columba, and a personnel friend of the Lord, it was said, at Lothra, in Tipperary. Saint Rodanus put a very powerful curse on Tara and the royal hill was deserted and no Irish king ever sat there again.
Superstition you say? Indeed it was not! If they were to be leaving because of the curse of a pagan druid, or that of a heathen Bearla, then that would be superstition, but a solemn malediction pronounced by a monk of the Church is a different thing entirely, indeed it is…and there be no place in heaven for you and yours if not believing it!
King Diarmaid was killed by Hugh of the Black, leader of a Pictish colony that had placed itself in Ireland.
Columba returned to be present at the great convention of Drumceat…the first assembly of states to be held after the abandonment of Tara.
It was here that another Hugh, Hugh Ainmire, was wearing the royal crown, and Columba persuaded him to give up all claims to the Scottish colony in Alba and to recognize its’ complete independence. Columba also persuaded him to be leaving the heads on some of the more troublesome bards, when King Hugh was in more of a favour of removing them.
Now Hugh didn’t see much virtue in the fifth commandment, or any commandment to be telling the truth, and he killed many a person in Leinster while trying to collect his tribute.
The king of Leinster was a Bran Dubh, then, and a very cunning fellow he proved himself to be. At the high of the campaign he disguised himself as a leper and visited King Hugh’s camp, and telling them that the men of Leinster had had enough.
“They’re coming now unarmed…with provisions, drink, women and many a present!”
They arrived later that evening, with many large bags of ‘provisions and presents’. And during the night, as Hugh and his followers enjoyed the wife and daughter of Leinster, and many more that of the drink, the bags opened and armed men stepped out and all had a grand time, the slaughter lasted until morning, when Bran Dubh personally killed King Hugh. This place was to be known as Dunbolg, ‘the Fort of the Bags’, in Wicklow, and now is called Dunboyke.
Bran Dubh and his men chased the survivors of Hugh’s army, and there wouldn’t of been many, into Meath, where Bran Dubh himself was later murdered by one of his own men, who did not like the idea of using his wife, or it was most likely his whiskey, as bite.
Now it came to pass, in the odour of sanctity, with a Christian king in Scotland, the Picts converted and himself nearly as good a man as Patrick himself, Saint Columba died at his monastery on Iona.
To many a person that may not understand, or not knowing a lot of the world, or even their own names, or even what day it is, may believe that the Irish, as Keepers of the Faith, are still practicing violence in defiance of the teachings of the Lord Christ.
Aye, and who was it….answer me fair…who was it now who flogged the money changers out of the temple?
‘He didn’t kill them’ you say…well now, from flogging to killing is only a wee step, and you’ll be remembering that Christ is the son of God and had more power to restrain Himself in the heat of an argument. Oh there’s a lot of fraility in the human nature and some men, and many a woman, have more of it than others. Aye, a wee bit of killing there was, and is, to be sure, but a lot more of preaching and teaching and baptizing, since the time of the holy Saint Patrick and Saint Columba. The Irish has always had more saints than sinners, to be sure….it’s just a wee bit harder to tell them apart,then other persons in the world.
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