Chapter 4
Ireland: The Untamed Isle
In the midst of Rome's collapse, attention shifts to a distant island beyond the empire's reach, where a different world was taking shape-a world revealed through remarkable literature like the Tain Bo Cuailnge (The Cattle Raid of Cooley).
The royal conversation between King Ailil and Queen Medb illustrates this world's character. When Medb reminds Ailil she brought magnificent wedding gifts and that "if anyone causes you shame or upset or trouble, the right to compensation is mine, for you're a kept man," Ailil retorts that he has royal brothers and only came to Connacht because it was uniquely ruled by a woman. Their argument escalates into a competitive inventory of possessions-from household items to jewelry, sheep, horses, pigs, and cattle. Everything matches until they discover Ailil has one great bull, Finnbennach the White Horned, that had left Medb's herd, refusing to be led by a woman. This imbalance devastates Medb and launches the epic's central conflict.
This remarkable narrative comes from manuscripts dating back to the eighth century but based on oral traditions possibly from the time of Christ. Determined to match her husband's possession, Medb arranges to borrow the legendary Brown Bull of Cuailnge from Daire mac Fiachna, offering generous terms including "my own friendly thighs on top of that." When the deal collapses, Medb's response reveals her character: "It was well known it would be taken by force if it wasn't given freely. And taken it will be."
This world of the Tain presents a stark contrast to classical literature-rough, strange, barbaric yet splendid. Its characters don't think deeply but act with convincing humanity. The sexual frankness of these characters is unparalleled in classical literature, with both men and women openly admiring physical attributes and casually inviting each other to bed. Though uncivilized by Roman standards, these characters possess remarkable confidence, whether riding horseback, drawing enemy blood, dancing vigorously, or coupling passionately.
Chapter 5
The People of the West
The Irish were part of the larger Celtic ethnic group who first entered western consciousness around 600 B.C. These Celts spread across Europe in various branches-one settling in present-day France to become the Gauls (later conquered by Julius Caesar), another reaching the Iberian peninsula to become sea traders possibly reaching as far as the Americas. Celtic tribes invaded Britain around 400 B.C., eventually becoming the Britons who would later be pushed by Angles and Saxons into Cornwall and Wales, giving rise to Arthurian legends.
Around 350 B.C., Celtic tribes reached Ireland, likely dominated by Iberian Celts whose language differed from British invaders. These became the Irish, speaking a Celtic language of the Goidelic branch, which survives today as Irish and Scots Gaelic. Ireland remains the only Celtic nation-state in the modern world.
Irish foundation myth tells how the sons of Mil, supposedly descended from Noah, arrived from Spain and conquered Ireland from the Tuatha De Danaan, the People of the Goddess Danu. While the Noah connection reflects later Christian influence, archaeological evidence confirms Ireland was indeed inhabited before Celtic arrival, with impressive barrows and carved tumuli built by earlier peoples. These Tuatha De Danaan, remembered for their building skills, eventually transformed in legend into "the little people"-fairies and leprechauns haunting the tombs they once constructed.
From their earliest days, the Irish revered verbal artistry. The sons of Mil arrived with their poet Amhairghin, who proclaimed his identity through powerful natural imagery: "I am an estuary into the sea. I am a wave of the ocean..." This oral tradition persisted unchanged through centuries of isolation, as Ireland remained largely beyond civilization's traffic. This was an illiterate, aristocratic, semi-nomadic Iron Age warrior culture whose wealth derived from animal husbandry and slavery-a society that remained remarkably static from the Celtic invasion until the coming of Christianity.
Chapter 6
Warriors of the North
The Irish warriors were formidable, primitive fighters who stripped naked before battle, wearing only sandals and golden torcs around their necks-just like the famous Greek statue "The Dying Gaul" depicts. They howled and appeared possessed by demons, presenting a terrifying spectacle to their enemies. The Romans were shocked and frightened by these naked, howling warriors whose battle frenzy was accompanied by the "infernal skirl of pipers."
Irish heroes experienced what they called the "warp-spasm"-a transformation into something monstrous and hideous when confronted by enemies. The epic Tain describes Cuchulainn's warp-spasm in vivid detail: his body twisting grotesquely inside his skin, joints reversing, face becoming a "red bowl," one eye sinking deep into his skull while the other popped out, his heart booming "like the baying of a watch-dog." This transformation from ordinary mortal into killing machine allowed warriors to deal with their own terror.
The Irish heroic literature features blithe exaggeration-Cuchulainn single-handedly slaying "one hundred and thirty kings" plus countless others, emerging without a scratch. These comic book-like exploits reflect the imaginative childhood of the human race, with elaborate descriptions of magical chariots and superhuman feats that would captivate preadolescent boys. Despite their fascination with physical prowess, these people had little capacity for calculation-numbers of the dead are greatly inflated, similar to the ages of biblical patriarchs.
Unlike classical epics where women play minor roles, the Tain features remarkably powerful female characters. Queen Medb dominates the narrative "as does no other woman in any epic we have left to us." While Helen makes only a cameo in the Iliad and Dido has a supporting role in the Aeneid, Medb drives the story forward with her "massive figure" and commanding presence.
Chapter 7
The Irish Heart
The inscription on Art O'Leary's tomb-"generous handsome brave"-perfectly summarizes the Iron Age moral code that survived remarkably in Ireland long after vanishing from more sophisticated civilizations. These three virtues appear in Medb's own boastful self-description: "I outdid all my sisters in grace (handsome) and giving (generous) and battle and warlike combat (brave)." Similarly, she demanded a husband free from "meanness" (opposite of generosity), "fear" (opposite of bravery), and "jealousy" (eternally linked to handsomeness).
Beneath these three visible virtues lies a fourth, unnamed one: loyalty or faithfulness. While not prominently featured in heterosexual relationships (neither Medb nor Dark Eileen could credibly praise faithfulness in their men), it forms the bedrock of same-sex friendships. Like Gilgamesh and Enkidu or Achilles and Patroclus, the ideal relationship in the Tain is between foster brothers Cuchulainn and Ferdia, who love each other deeply even when forced by Medb's trickery to fight to the death.
The Irish understood life's fleeting nature and the futility of clinging to people or things. They pursued heroic gestures-fighting, drinking, art-with furious energy, but maintained a core of stoic detachment. As Medb coldly responds when told her son has been beheaded in battle, "This isn't like catching birds." The Dying Gaul's face speaks their philosophy: we all die alone on battlefields not of our choosing, and even our most solemn promises of faithfulness may not survive fate's tricks. As Daniel Patrick Moynihan said after Kennedy's assassination, "to be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart."
This was the world into which a Roman-British teenager named Patricius was thrust when kidnapped by Irish raiders around 400 CE. His transformation from slave to saint would change the course of history.
Chapter 8
The Shepherd Who Changed a Nation
The Iron Age Irish warriors could hardly be heroes to their British slaves. Patricius, kidnapped from the comfort of Roman civilization, served the Antrim king Miliucc, one of hundreds of petty chieftains ruling small cattle-ranching territories. As a shepherd-slave, Patricius endured bitter isolation, spending months alone in the hills with only hunger and nakedness as companions.
In his desperate circumstances, this previously irreligious boy turned to prayer. "I would pray constantly during the daylight hours... as many as a hundred prayers and after dark nearly as many again, even while I remained in the woods or on the mountain." After six years of isolation, he had transformed from a careless youth into a holy visionary for whom the boundaries between worlds had dissolved.
A mysterious voice finally told him: "Your hungers are rewarded: you are going home" and "Look, your ship is ready." Though Miliucc's farm was nowhere near the sea, Patricius walked two hundred miles without being stopped, reaching a southeastern inlet where he found sailors loading Irish hounds for continental export. After initially being refused passage, Patricius began to pray, and almost immediately the sailors called him back, offering to take him "on trust."
Years later, after becoming a bishop, Patrick (as we now know him) would make an unprecedented decision-to return to the land of his captivity. A teenage sin haunted him into midlife, possibly murder of a slave that only became meaningful after experiencing brutality himself. Patrick emerges as history's first unequivocal voice against slavery, a position unmatched until the 17th century.
While Augustine articulated Christianity's dark side through sin theory, Patrick embodied its bright side-believing slave traders could become liberators and barbarians could join heaven's nobility. Unlike Augustine's emphasis on baptism, Patrick transformed Irish imagination by celebrating all creation as God's good work.
Patrick's "Breastplate" prayer, though possibly from the 7th-8th century, captures his essence as a Christian druid who saw the universe as God's Great Sacrament. This cosmic incantation, Europe's earliest vernacular poetry, invokes protection through nature's elements and Christ's presence "in the heart of every man who thinks of me." Patrick devoted his final thirty years to his "warrior children," attracting outsiders and oddball personalities much as Jesus did, helping transform Ireland from chaos to peace while Rome moved from peace to chaos.
Chapter 9
A New Light in the West
The Celtic pantheon was monstrous and fearsome-nothing like the smooth-skinned Apollos and Aphrodites of Greece. Archaeological finds reveal disturbing deities that would give children nightmares. In Irish mythology, war goddesses like Nemain and Badb haunted warriors' sleep and could kill a hundred men with just a cry in the night. Despite their outward bravado, these warriors harbored deep subconscious fears of death.
Patrick offered a radical alternative: a world still filled with magic but governed by a loving God. He demonstrated one could be brave yet peaceful, unafraid of death because of divine promises. Where the Irish saw a universe of hidden traps, Patrick presented creation as "charged with the grandeur of God"-a healing mystery with divine messages at every crossroads.
Unlike Augustine's pessimistic Christianity with its suspicion of the body, Patrick built upon the natural mysticism of the Irish, teaching that "all the world was holy"-a sacramentality not limited to church rituals but embracing the entire created universe. Patrick confronted the practice of human sacrifice, which the Irish still performed when he arrived, offering prisoners to war gods and newborns to harvest gods, displaying enemy heads as trophies and drinking from skull cups.
The transformation of Irish imagination is beautifully symbolized by two cups: the pagan Gundestrup Cauldron with its images of human sacrifice, and the exquisite Ardagh Chalice, where God offers himself to humans instead. In this new spiritual economy, the smith's craft became not a dark magic but a thanksgiving to God.
The Irish monasteries that grew from Patrick's mission welcomed students of all backgrounds-nobles and commoners alike-from across England and Europe, providing food, books, and teaching entirely free of charge. As Bede records, "All these the Irish willingly received, and saw to it to supply them with food day by day without cost, and books for their studies, and teaching, free of charge."
Chapter 10
The Great Work of Preservation
Unlike their continental counterparts, the Irish were remarkably unconcerned with orthodoxy, embracing all literature they could find. After mastering Christian texts, they "devoured" pagan Greek and Latin classics that conventional churchmen avoided. This intellectual openness shocked some, like Aldhelm of Malmesbury, who warned students against the "polluted lewdness" of classical tales. But the Irish saw no value in self-censorship-"I am a human being, so nothing human is strange to me."
The Irish monks preserved not only classical texts but also their own native literature-the earliest vernacular literature of Europe to survive. Though occasionally critical of their own myths (one scribe called the Tain "devilish lies" and "poetical figments"), they still faithfully copied them. Unlike elsewhere in Europe where educated men scorned vernacular languages, the Irish loved all language as a playful game.
In the margins of manuscripts, we find scribes' personal thoughts-love poems, complaints about backbreaking work, critiques of fellow scribes, and charming verses like "I and Pangur Ban my cat, 'Tis a like task we are at: Hunting mice is his delight, Hunting words I sit all night." These were happy humans engaged with their texts, not mere copyists but active participants in a vibrant intellectual tradition.
The Irish transformed literacy into art, developing distinctive scripts-Irish half-uncial and the more fluid Irish minuscule that would become the common script of the Middle Ages. Their magnificent illuminated books like the Book of Kells featured initial capitals that "rivet one's eyes to the page," drawing inspiration from prehistoric megalithic art of the Boyne Valley with its spirals and intricate patterns. These books embodied the Irish aesthetic of "balance in imbalance"-mathematically precise yet deliberately off-center, creating endlessly fascinating designs.
Chapter 11
The Light Spreads Across Europe
The Irish developed distinctive spiritual practices that differed markedly from Roman orthodoxy. Their confession was private and repeatable, made to an "anmchara" (soul-friend) chosen for personal qualities rather than ordination status. This soul-friend tradition dated back to druidic times, with confession considered sealed forever by God.
While Roman civilization collapsed across Europe with successive barbarian invasions destroying cities like Trier, Cologne, and Mainz, Ireland stood apart-"furiously copying" manuscripts while cut off from the continent by Saxon settlements. Columcille bridged this gap through his "White Martyrdom"-leaving Ireland to establish monasteries in Scotland. His Iona community became a magnet for visitors from all backgrounds, and by his death, sixty monastic communities had spread throughout Scotland.
These warrior-monks spread in all directions-Brendan the Navigator explored Iceland, Greenland, and North America; some set out in boats without oars, trusting God; many found their way to continental Europe. Columbanus, born around 540, founded three forest monasteries in Gaul after twenty-five years at Bangor. Despite deportation attempts and exile, Columbanus established Bobbio in Lombardy, where he continued writing boldly to popes, making puns on their names and displaying characteristic Irish familiarity with authority.
Through these efforts, the White Martyrs established monasteries that would grow into major European cities like Luxeuil, Salzburg, Vienna, and many others. They carried their precious books tied to their waists like trophies, reestablishing literacy across the continent. By 870, Heiric of Auxerre would exclaim that "Almost all of Ireland, despising the sea, is migrating to our shores with a herd of philosophers!" Through their exile, they reestablished literacy and breathed new life into Europe's exhausted literary culture.
Chapter 12
The Legacy That Endures
At Pentecost of 597, just as Columcille was dying at Iona, an English king was baptized in Canterbury by a Roman librarian sent by Gregory the Great-the first papal mission to pagans. This marked a new chapter in Britain's story, where Celtic Britons had been pushed westward by the settled Anglo-Saxons who now called eastern Britain "England." While British Celts despised their pagan conquerors, Irish monks launched a spiritual invasion of England from Lindisfarne, establishing monasteries throughout northern England.
Despite eventual conflicts between Celtic and Roman Christianity, what truly distinguished the period was the fraternal cooperation between Irish and English. Saxon monasteries learned scribal arts from Irish monks, producing masterpieces like the Lindisfarne Gospels-utterly Irish in spirit though created by an Englishman.
By the mid-seventh century, intellectual thought had transformed. People now apprehended the world through images rather than thoughts, through "similarities and balances, types and paradigms, parallels and symbols." The Irish missionary impulse reached its peak, joined by English missionaries who evangelized Germanic lands.
The most brilliant figure was John Scotus Eriugena, the first true philosopher since Augustine and Boethius. Known for his vicious wit (he once quipped that only a table separated a fool from an Irishman), Eriugena was one of only two men in Western Europe fluent in Greek. His masterwork De Divisione Naturae revealed a mind capable of grasping Greek philosophy while creating an original system with Celtic influences.
Even as Irish intellectual life flourished on the continent, Ireland itself came under Viking attack. Monasteries built round towers for protection, but these proved inadequate against the Norse raiders who destroyed books by ripping off jeweled covers for booty. The Vikings established Ireland's first true cities-Dublin, Limerick, Cork, Waterford-but they ended Ireland's cultural leadership of European civilization.
Yet even at their lowest point, the Irish kept hope alive. In 1843, just before the Great Famine, a German traveler was astonished to find a Kerry farmer reading an ancient manuscript containing "beautiful old Irish poems, histories of wonderful events, and treatises of antiquity"-an unlikely survival of an Irish codex in the hands of a common man, a testament to the enduring Irish reverence for learning through the darkest times.
As we look out across our Earth today, we see some signs for hope, many more for despair. What will be lost and what saved of our civilization probably lies beyond our powers to decide. Perhaps history is always divided into Romans and catholics-the rich and powerful who believe there will never be enough to go around versus the universalists who believe all humanity makes one family. If our civilization is to be saved, it will not be by Romans but by saints.