Inde sanctus Hieronymus haec sciens iussit episcopos imitari apostolos, monachos uero docuit sequi patres perfectos. Alia enim sunt et alia clericorum et monachorum documenta, ea et longe ab inuicem separata.[431]

Had the Abbot of Luxueil who writes with such approbation of the separate functions and ideals of sequestered monks, and active clergy (including bishops), whether regular or secular—had he been accustomed in his native country to a system in which there were no bishops who were not members of monasteries? This bears on the question whether the Irish Church in the sixth century was as exclusively monastic as it is generally represented.

It is quite inconceivable that Patrick and his foreign coadjutors should have organised a purely monastic Church. Such a Church might have grown into being by degrees, but it would never have been deliberately organised in the fifth century; there was no model for it. Nor is it conceivable that Patrick would have introduced an order of bishops, none of whom were bound to any defined sphere of activity, but who might go about the island promiscuously, performing episcopal duties wherever they liked. It is incredible that he was not guided by geographical considerations in his ordination of bishops; and it is not easy to see how a geographical distribution could have been dispensed with.

There is indeed a total absence of evidence to suggest that there were large episcopal dioceses, and this is perfectly consistent with the tradition that Patrick ordained an immense number of bishops, variously stated, with great exaggeration, at 450 and 350.[432] Tírechán, who gives the former number, cannot mention the names of more than about forty-five. But the fact that he can record so many shows that the number of bishops under the Patrician system was not small. It does not follow that they had no dioceses; it only follows that the dioceses were comparatively small. A priori, this is what we might expect. The number of small tribal territories in Ireland could not fail to affect and largely determine the ecclesiastical organisation. And when we find in the records of Tírechán, concerning the foundations of St. Patrick, that in some churches he placed presbyters, while for others he consecrated bishops, we may be sure that in this discrimination he was guided by considerations of secular geography, and that he did not wish to multiply bishops beyond necessity.

The evidence of the records and traditions preserved by Tírechán has the more weight because it is quite undesigned; and, so far as it goes, it seems to bear out the general view of the Patrician organisation which has been indicated above. Here are the bishops who were ordained by Patrick for certain churches in Connaught:—

To these may perhaps be added the epis̃ prespiter bonus (whose name is illegible in the MS.: fol. 13 rᵒ b, l. 12) who founded a church in Imgoe Mair Cerrigi (in the barony of Costello, Mayo).

As many foundations in Connaught are recorded by Tírechán, with which no bishop is connected, it is clear that, so far as this evidence goes, Patrick proceeded on some principle in the distribution of episcopal churches. There is one passage from which it might be hastily concluded that he set two bishops in one place. He installed Assicus and his nephew Bitteus at Elphin, and both Assicus and Bitteus are described as bishops (313). The true interpretation obviously is that, when Assicus left Elphin (as described in 313₂₉, fecit profugam ad montem lapidis), he was succeeded by Bitteus, as was natural; and that Bitteus is here (313₂₂) described as a bishop proleptically. (This accords with the part he took in the ordination of Cairell at a later time, in connexion with which Assicus is not mentioned: 314₂₆, see below.)

There is one interesting piece of evidence for the multiplication of bishops after Patrick’s death. Under his arrangement there was no bishop at Tamnach in Tirerrill; but

id cairellum

post haec autem posuerunt episcopos iuxta sanctam aeclessiam hi Tamnuch quos ordinauerunt episcopi Patricii id est Bronus et Bietheus.

The language is a little loose, but clearly means that afterwards Cairellus was ordained a bishop for Tamnach by Bronus of Caisselire and Bitteus (who had succeeded his uncle Assicus) of Elphin, and that he was succeeded by a line of bishops. Why was this innovation made? Clearly because the community of Tamnach, founded by Mathona, had grown in importance and aspired to have a bishop for itself. Here we may recognise a distinct bit of evidence for the early introduction of the system, which very soon became prevalent, of bishops without sees attached to religious houses.

There seems then to be no evidence in support of the improbable supposition that Patrick’s bishops had not episcopal districts. Such districts would naturally have been determined by the tribal divisions of the country. Nor is there any difficulty in explaining the subsequent development of this episcopal church into a church which was predominantly monastic. The double position of the bishop is the clew to the development. For the bishop was not only bishop for a certain diocese, which would contain several churches and religious foundations, but he was also head of a particular community. Thus Assicus presided over a religious community at Elphin,[435] besides being episcopally responsible for a certain district. This system was a natural consequence of the condition of the country; there were no cities; monastic establishments were the substitute. Hence Patrick’s bishops were probably in most cases monks; we have references to monachi Patricii,[436] from whom Patrick doubtless selected some of his bishops, just as Lérins supplied some notable bishops for the sees of Gaul. It is easy to conceive how in process of time other religious communities might aspire to be self-sufficient and have bishops of their own. If the bishop, whose jurisdiction included a number of communities, had not been himself the head of a similar community, such a tendency would not have been likely to arise. But when there were a number of monastic communities, A, B, C, etc., in one district, which was under the episcopal jurisdiction of a bishop who was the princeps of A, one can understand how this jurisdiction might have soon seemed to B, C, etc., an intolerable claim to superiority on the part of a neighbouring community. The bishop came to be regarded, and perhaps came to act, less as the bishop of the paruchia than as the princeps of his community. The double position of the bishop exposed him to a jealousy which would not have been aroused if he had stood outside all communities alike. The consequence was the multiplication of bishops, many communities wishing to be independent and to have bishops, each for itself. Thus the diocesan system partly broke down, and the instance of the ordination of Cairell for Tamnach seems to be an early instance.

Was there any discriminating designation to distinguish those religious settlements which were seats of bishops from those which were not? I venture on the conjecture that the name civitas was originally applied only to the former communities. In Gaul, in Italy, in Roman Britain, the bishop’s seat was in a true civitas; and we can understand that in a cityless land, civitas might have been used in the special ecclesiastical sense of the settlement in which the bishop lived.[437]

It is worth noticing that in the Memoir of Tírechán two episcopal seats in Connaught seem to be distinguished as places for the ordination of bishops: Aghagower in quo fiunt episcopi (322₇) and perhaps Donaghmore in Fochlad.[438] Did Patrick specially mark out certain episcopal residences as places where bishops might be consecrated?

The outcome of this discussion is that Patrick’s organisation was from one point of view monastic, from another episcopal. It was monastic in so far as many of the churches in the various regions were connected with religious communities of a monastic character, and the clergy were largely monks. But this did not prevent it being episcopal, in the sense that there were episcopal districts or dioceses. There was not a body of bishops without sees, who went round visiting churches promiscuously, but each bishop had his own diocese.

There is another consideration which has not been noticed, and which seems to me of great weight. It is the position which bishops hold in the few laws in the Senchus Mór which touch the Church. The bishop appears in these laws as the dignitary in the Church who corresponds to the king in the State. There is no mention of presbyter abbots as sharing the privileges of the bishop, who has the same “dire” fine as a king.[439] Clearly a state of things is contemplated in which the bishops are the important administrators in the Church. Such rights could not have been established from the sixth century forward, when the bishops were of less account. This feature of the Senchus Mór seems to me, therefore, to have a double significance, in establishing both the antiquity of the code itself and the eminence of the episcopal office in the fifth century; the two things hang together and mutually support each other.

A corroboration is perhaps also supplied by the De Abusionibus Seculi, a treatise of Irish origin, written before 700 A.D. (see App. A, i. 4), where the tenth Abuse is the Episcopus negligens, in which the pastoral duties of the bishop are insisted upon, and his functions as a speculator. It seems by no means improbable that the work is older than 600 A.D.

19. The Place of Patrick’s Burial

The decisive reasons for determining the vexed question of Patrick’s burial-place in favour of Saul have been given in the text; but something more may be said here in criticism of the evidence. Among the miscellaneous notices appended to Tírechán’s Memoir (p. 332) by the scribe Ferdomnach, occurs a comparison of Patrick to Moses in four points, of which the fourth is: ubi sunt ossa eius nemo nouit. The author of this similitude has simply taken advantage, for his purpose, of the fact that there were two rival claimants, Saul and Downpatrick. It does not imply that there was no distinct and universally accepted tradition placing his burial in this district; for if there had been any room for doubt about that, Armagh could not have failed to claim his bones.

Another notice follows, professing to tell how the place of sepulture was revealed:—

Colombcille spiritu sancto instigante ostendit sepulturam Patricii, ubi est confirmat., id est hi Sabul Patricii, id est in aeclessia iuxta mare proxima, ubi est conductio martirum id est ossuum Coluimbcillae de Britannia et conductio omnium sanctorum Hiberniae iudicii.

Whatever value we may attach to this passage as a record of an opinion of Columba, it is good evidence for the existence of a tradition that Patrick was buried at Saul. Todd (St. Patrick, p. 494) thinks that Downpatrick is intended, and thereby reconciles this passage (which he wrongly ascribes to Tírechán) with the statement of Muirchu that he was buried there.[440] If it were a case for reconciliation, it would be a more defensible hypothesis that Muirchu used loose language, and said that Patrick was buried at Dún, whereas he was really buried in its neighbourhood. But the two statements should have been protected against any such arbitrary attempt to reconcile them by the existence of the third statement ubi sunt ossa eius nemo nouit, for they afford us its explanation. Muirchu meant Dúnlethglasse, as he said; and the writer of the notice of Columba’s discovery meant Saul, as he said. There were two rival traditions, the Saul tradition and the Dún tradition; and it was just the existence of these two traditions which could enable a man to say, “After all, we know not where the saint was buried; in that too he was like Moses.”

The whole story, or collection of stories, related by Muirchu (and reproduced in the text) contain obvious marks of their growth, and internal inconsistency; though, as put together by Muirchu, they represent the account accepted at Dúnlethglasse. The first part, containing the interview with the angel, and the death and exequiae (295₁₈₋297₂₅), does not contemplate Dúnlethglasse at all. It only contemplates Saul: revertere ad locum unde uenis, hoc est Sabul. It reflects, as I have said, a conciliation between the claim, or rather disappointment, of Armagh, and the actual burial at Saul; it is designed to protect, if I may say so, the countenance of Armagh, and the compromise is reflected in the two petitions representing the two interests.

After this comes the passage relating the burial at Dúnlethglasse (298₁₋₂₀). It is quite evident that it has a distinct and subsequent origin; it was manufactured in a different ecclesiastical workshop. It adds, like a sort of postscript, a new piece, a new command, to the discourse of the angel, in a new interest, namely of Downpatrick. If the whole story had been of one piece, this command would have formed part of the angel’s original address; it would not be introduced as an appendix. This criticism is in itself sufficient to exhibit the falsity of Downpatrick’s claim. It is to be noted that this claim had the further purpose of establishing an early date for the origin of the church of Downpatrick. It could not claim to have been founded by the saint; it alleged that it was founded in connexion with his burial.

The two stories, which Muirchu relates of the contention between the Ulidians and the men of Orior (orientales), supply an instructive illustration of the genesis of legends. When we have two stories of this kind, one is generally subsequent to the other, and suggested by it.[441] The common argument of both is to show how hostilities were prevented. There can be no doubt which was the genuine and primitive story. The inundation of the sea, a motive (as I pointed out in the text) characteristic of the district, furnishes a presumption in favour of the priority of the first story. The second story obviously arose out of the Dúnlethglasse legend of the oxen;[442] in fact, its point depends upon that legend. Thus was myth added to myth in the workshops of Irish ecclesiastics. The ecclesiastical origin is seen not only in the incident of the burning bush, but in the invention of the cart and two unyoked kine (1 Samuel vi. 7 sqq.).

20. Legendary Date of Patrick’s Death

The true year of Patrick’s death is furnished by our oldest document, Tírechán (302₂₉, a passione Christi ... anni ccccxxxiii [MS. ccccxxxui]); Ann. of Ulster, s.a. 461 (cp. Ann. Inisf. s.a. 493); Nennius, Hist. Brit. 16 (pp. 158-9 ed. Mommsen). See the criticism of this material in Bury, Tírechán’s Memoir, pp. 239 sqq.

But side by side with the true tradition, we find in the Annals another date, A.D. 493, which has been generally received and is the vulgar era of the event. It is closely connected with the legendary age of Patrick—120 years, which is as old as Muirchu’s Life (296₁₉). The question arises, how came his age to be raised from somewhat more than 70 to 120 years, and why was A.D. 493 fixed on as the date of his death?

In the analogy which was drawn between Patrick and Moses, one of the items of resemblance is the same length of life. But the Mosaic motive cannot have been sufficient to determine originally such a marked perversion of fact. On the contrary, the age of 120 years must have been otherwise suggested and have then, in its turn, contributed to suggest the Mosaic analogy.

It is to be noted that in the Liber Armachanus two divergent subputations of Patrick’s age are found. One of these was originally appended to the exemplar of Muirchu which was used by the Armagh scribe; the other is among the notes which are appended to his transcription of Tírechán.

In the first (300₂₁) it is stated that Patrick, having been captured in his 20th year, was a slave for 15 years, studied for 40, and taught for 61. Hence it is inferred that his age was 111. There must be errors in the figures.

In the second (331₂₂) we have the following statement:—baptized in 7th year, captured in 10th, was a slave for 7 years, studied for 30 years, and taught for 72. Hence his age at his death is inferred as 120 (10 + 7 + 30 + 72 = 119), ut Moyses.

It is, I venture to think, of the greatest significance that in both these cases the fictitious age is given as a total, and preceded by a statement of the items which compose it. This fact furnishes the clue. The Mosaic age, 120, was not handed down as a legend, nor was the true age of somewhat over 70 audaciously raised to the Mosaic figure for the purpose of the Mosaic comparison. The figure 120, or something approximate, was reached by means of a computation of chronological items, and it is these chronological items that we must examine in order to discover the origin of the error.

In the two anonymous computations which I have quoted the items disagree with each other, and also disagree with the data in Patrick’s Confession. They cannot therefore form the basis of our examination, because we may safely assume that the computation, by which 120 years (exactly or approximately) was reached and was generally accepted in Ireland, did not contravene the data of the Confession—data which were rightly quoted in Tírechán (302₁₇) from the Book of Ultan. We may safely assume that the computators, who succeeded in establishing the Mosaic age, started with the incontrovertible fact supplied by the Confession that Patrick was either 22 years old, or in his 22nd year, when he escaped from captivity. It is equally clear that the period which they assigned to his teaching was 60 (rather 61 years)—for that is the period from his arrival in Ireland, A.D. 433 (rather 432) to the alleged date of his death, A.D. 493. This would leave 38 (rather 37) years to be accounted for. Now Muirchu mentions two different records, 30 and 40 years, for the sojourn with Germanus (it is to be observed that, of the two computations noticed above, one reckons with 30, the other with 40 years). If either of these, 30 years must have been the period accepted in this computation for St. Patrick’s studies, and an interval of 8 (or 7) years left, which agrees remarkably with the notice of Tírechán (from the Liber apud Ultanum, ib.): uii. aliis annis ambulauit, etc. The sum worked out thus—

22 + 7 + 30 + 61 = 120.

Of these items 22 had the best authority, and 30 and 7 were independent records or traditions (as we know from Muirchu and Tírechán). The problem is therefore reduced to discovering the origin of the 61 or 60 years during which the apostle is wrongly supposed to have taught. That it was due to a misinterpretation and not to a deliberate invention, there can, I think, be no question.

A list of the Armagh succession in the Book of Leinster (printed in Stokes, Trip. pp. 542 sqq.) supplies a hint which suggests an explanation of the error. The first entry is—

Patrick: 58 years from the coming of Patrick to Ireland till his death.

The fact that a period of 58 years is given here instead of the usual number (493-433/2) is remarkable. Now if we count back 58 years from the true date of Patrick’s death, 461, we reach the year 403-404, which was in the close vicinity of the year in which, as we saw, he was probably taken into slavery. Hence it seems probable that in an early record it was stated correctly that 58 years elapsed between the coming of Patrick to Ireland, meaning his first coming as a slave, and his death, and that this notice was misinterpreted by subsequent computators who referred it to his second coming as a teacher. They computed: 22 + 7 (ambulauit) + 30 (legit) + 58 (docuit) = 117. An age so close to 120 could hardly fail to suggest Moses; the figures clamoured for a slight manipulation, and the means adopted was to increase the last period from 58 to 61. Thus the date of the death was determined: 432 + 61 = 493.

By this computation the coming to Ireland divided the whole life into two almost equal parts (59 + 61), which would naturally come to be described in round numbers as each 60 years. This probably led to the alternative date for the obit given in the Ann. Ult. 492 (= 432 + 60).

The computation which established 120 years for the age and A.D. 493 for the year of the death, thus involving 61 years for the Irish period, was triumphant and became authoritative. But the computations quoted above from the Liber Armachanus show that other theories had been propounded based on the addition of items. In the Vita Tertia the age is given as 132. This figure seems to have been obtained by substituting 72 instead of the (round) 60 for the last item in the sum; this is suggested by the fact that in the second computation in the Liber Armachanus the last item is septuaginta duo annos docuit, though the total 120 (119) is secured by erroneous dates for the captivity. What is the origin of this number 72? It must have come down in some form, it must have represented something, when, in order to do justice to it, one computator felt compelled to raise the Mosaic 120 to 132, and another, though holding fast to 120, modified the authentic dates of the captivity.

I suggest that this number 72 represents an old and correct record of Patrick’s age at the time of his death.

21. Professor Zimmer’s Theory

The general obscurity which surrounds the early history of Ireland, the difficulties which have been found in making out the period of Patrick’s career from indefinite and contradictory data, the fact that while his death fell on any theory in the fifth century, no mention of him in literature is found before the seventh, these circumstances have led to a variety of theories which beset and embarrass the student who approaches Patrician literature. Patrick has been in turn eliminated and reduplicated; and, in revenge for undue magnification, his rôle has been reduced to something quite insignificant. We may say that his writings, like the poems of Homer, have been taken away from him to be ascribed to some one else of the same name. It is needless to notice here theories which are fantastic or baseless, and have never gained any general or wide acceptance, but the view which has been recently developed by the brilliant Celtic philologist, Professor Zimmer,[443] cannot be passed over without criticism.

In another note I have referred to Zimmer’s identification of Patrick with Palladius. This is necessitated by, but would not necessitate, his theory. If it were demonstrated to-morrow that Patrick and Palladius were one and the same person, this would be quite as compatible with the view of Patrick adopted in the foregoing pages as with the view of Zimmer. Palladius may provisionally be left out of account for the purpose of the present criticism, though I shall have a few words to say on the subject at the end of this excursus.

Zimmer fully admits, though he had once denied, the genuineness of the Confession and the missive to the subjects of Coroticus; that is, he admits that they were written by Patricius, a bishop in Ireland in the fifth century. But he holds that the activity of this bishop was entirely confined to south-eastern Ireland (Laigin), that he accomplished nothing for the evangelisation or ecclesiastical organisation of the rest of Ireland, that he died (A.D. 459: Zimmer) conscious of failure, and for nearly two centuries after his death had a merely local reputation. The rejection of the traditional Patrick is, so far as I understand, based chiefly on two arguments: (1) Zimmer’s interpretation of the Confession; and (2), if Patrick’s work had at all corresponded in scope, magnitude, and import to the descriptions of it given by Irish writers of the seventh century, it would have been noticed by Bede in his Ecclesiastical History. As for the Confession I have said enough in the text, and have shown, I think, that its note is not, as Zimmer holds, consciousness of failure. As for the argument from the silence of Bede,[444] on which he lays much stress, I may quote what I said in reviewing his book: The value of arguments from silence “depends entirely on the cases; in some cases an argument from silence is conclusive. But can it be said to weigh much here, if we reflect that a notice of Patrick and his work in Bede’s book could have been simply a defensible digression? We can place our finger on the unproven premiss in Zimmer’s argument; he speaks of ‘Bede’s evidently keen interest in the early beginnings of Christianity in the British isles’ (p. 11). Substitute ‘Britain’ for ‘the British isles’ and the cogency of the argument disappears. Ninian and Columba are immediately relevant to his subject, Patrick is not; and, assuming the common tradition of Patrick’s work (as believed in Ireland c. A.D. 700) to be roughly true, it would be no more surprising to find nothing about it in Bede than it would be to find no mention of Augustine in an ecclesiastical history of Germany written on the same lines as Bede’s.”—English Hist. Review, July 1903.[445]

Zimmer’s reason for restricting the sphere of work of his Patricius to Laigin, or part of Laigin, seems to be the circumstance that the author of the earliest biography, Muirchu, belonged to this part of Ireland, being connected with Slébte. [It is possible, though he does not allege it, that another reason may have been the tradition which associates Palladius (whom he equates with Patrick) with the territory corresponding to the county of Wicklow.] The suggestion is that in this neighbourhood, at Slébte, for instance, were preserved traditions and writings of the obscure Patricius, who was in the seventh century to be transformed into the great apostle of Ireland. It is obvious that the argument, even if it were based on a correct statement of facts, is quite insufficient to prove the thesis.

But the statement of facts is not correct. There is another document which, though also dating from the second half of the seventh century, may claim (see above, p. 248) to have some slight advantage in point of priority over the Life of Muirchu. This is the Memoir of Tírechán. He had nothing whatever to do with Laigin; he was connected with Connaught and Meath. His spiritual master, Ultan, was a bishop at Ardbraccan, and had in his possession a book concerning the life of Patrick. We might therefore, if we adopted Professor Zimmer’s method of argument, conclude that the sphere of the true Patrick’s activity was confined to a part of the kingdom of Meath. The mere existence of Tírechán’s work forbids us to attach to the provenance of Muirchu’s work any significance of the kind which Zimmer attributes to it.

It must also be observed in what a strange light Zimmer’s theory would place the work of Muirchu. We should have to suppose that this writer, taking upon himself to be Patrick’s biographer because he belonged to the province in which Patrick had worked, ignores entirely Patrick’s connexion with that province (merely mentioning that he landed on the coast of Laigin), and devotes all his space to legendary adventures in other parts of Ireland.[446] As a matter of fact, a critical analysis of his work shows that a large amount of material depends on ancient local traditions of the Island-Plain in Ulidia.

This brings us face to face with the great difficulty which Zimmer has to meet. How, and why, and when was the obscure Patricius of fact transmuted into the illustrious Patricius of tradition? Zimmer’s answer to the question, when? has at least the merit of precision. He finds the motive of the glorification of Patrick in the Roman controversy of the seventh century, and he dates the appearance of the legend about A.D. 625. His own words must be quoted (Celtic Church, p. 80):—

It would not require a long stretch of imagination if we assume that, about 625, Ireland’s pious wish of having an apostle of her own was realised by reviving the memory of this Patricius, who had been forgotten everywhere except in the south-east. It was in this way, I think, that the Patrick legend sprang up with its two chief premisses: first, that Ireland was entirely pagan in 432, as the lands of the Picts and of the Saxons had been in 563 and 597 respectively; and secondly, that Patrick converted Ireland within a short time and introduced a Christian Church, overcoming all obstacles and winning the favour of King Loigaire, incidents analogous to Columba’s conversion of King Brude, or Augustine’s of Ethelbert of Kent.

Pointing out that the first mention of Patricius is in connexion with a Paschal cycle, in Cummian’s letter to Segéne, Zimmer proceeds:—

Thus the Patrick legend is characterised on its first appearance as serving the endeavours of the Southern Irish to enter into the unitas Catholica by yielding to Rome on the Easter question.

It is to be observed that Zimmer does not categorically allege that the Patrick legend was invented by the Roman party in south Ireland. He leaves this open. He says: “If this legend was not expressly invented by an Irish member of the party in favour of conformity, it was, at any rate, utilised at once by that party.” Let us take in turn the two alternatives, (1) that it was invented expressly by the Roman party, (2) that it was otherwise invented, but precisely in time for them to utilise.

(1) This alternative implies that the legend was manufactured in south-eastern Ireland (the only place where, ex hypothesi, Patricius was remembered) for the purpose of bringing about the conformity of the northern Irish. But the legend itself, as developed in the seventh-century sources, as developed in Muirchu’s work, on which Zimmer lays great stress, repudiates this origin. Southern Ireland, south-eastern Ireland, do not appear in the legend at all (except the single reference to Fíacc and the mention of the landing in Wicklow); and it would require the strongest direct evidence to prove that, in spite of this radical fact, the legendary story originated there. The theory implies that the south-eastern Irish, while they resuscitated Patricius, made him over entirely, and transferred all their rights in him, to the north of the island—severed him entirely from themselves. So far as the single circumstance of the conversion of Loigaire and the incidents of the first Easter is concerned, that might pass; for in Loigaire, as High King, the south as well as the north of Ireland had part. But the point is that the whole setting connects Patrick with the north and not with the south. Zimmer’s hesitation shows, I suspect, that he was to some extent conscious of this difficulty; and so he leaves open

(2) The other possibility that the rise of the Patrick legend may have had another origin. The only motive he suggests is “Ireland’s pious wish of having an apostle of her own.” Now if the origin of the Patrick legend was independent of the Roman controversy, why need it be placed in A.D. 625? How are we to determine its date? The answer, which seems to be implied by Zimmer, is that it must have been subsequent to the times of St. Columba and St. Augustine, the object being to set up a primitive apostle, to be for Ireland what Columba and Augustine were for Pictland and for England. This is, of course, the purest speculation; but setting aside the question of date, we should have to suppose—if we are not to fall into the same difficulty as in the case of the first alternative—that the idea arose in north Ireland, and that the legend was invented there. This would imply that the northern ecclesiastical mytho-poets had recourse to south-eastern Ireland to find an obscure ecclesiastic to glorify; that they detached him ruthlessly from his home and appropriated him entirely. We need not, however, consider this improbability, as Zimmer himself does not contemplate it. His view is that Patrick was resuscitated “in the district of his special activity,” “with the help of his own writings and of documents about him.”

It would seem far more natural that if the Irish were in search of a founder, they should seize on Palladius, whose mission was recorded by Prosper. Zimmer therefore identifies Palladius with Patricius; but the Irish had no idea of such an identity.[447] For in the oldest Life, Patricius and Palladius are distinguished. If, as Zimmer thinks, the creation of an apostle was due to a “specific tendency,” namely, approximation to Rome, it would be strange if Palladius, for whose direct mission from Rome there existed the record of Prosper, were not chosen. The legend of the conversion, the story of the first Paschal celebration, could as easily have been spun round him as round the author of the Confession. Zimmer avoids the difficulty by identifying them.

For his combination of the rise of the Patrick legend with the Paschal question, Zimmer lays much stress on Muirchu. I have pointed out above (Appendix A, ii. 3) that a certain indirect connexion between Muirchu’s work and events connected with the Roman controversy may be fairly inferred. But this inference does not furnish any support for Zimmer’s daring theory. And it is important to notice in this connexion that Muirchu did not believe that Patrick went to Rome; he admits that he wished to do so, but denies that he passed beyond Gaul. This in itself would make us hesitate to believe that the story of Patrick, as expounded by Muirchu, was a recent fabrication in the interests of the Roman cause.

But we may waive all particular criticisms of Zimmer’s reconstruction, and state the general and decisive objection to his or any similar theory. It is this. The nature of the traditions which are preserved in the two seventh-century compilations written by Tírechán and Muirchu forbids the hypothesis of recent fabrication. In the first place a critical examination of the texts of these works enables us to conclude that they were largely based on older written material. In the second place, it is perfectly inconceivable that all the detailed traditions which Tírechán collected both from written and from oral resources concerning Patrick’s work in Connaught should have been deliberately invented, between 625 and 660, in a region where Patrick’s name was never known. In the third place, the really characteristic Patrician stories, the death of Miliucc, the events of the first Easter, the story of Daire, are not of the kind which are fabricated, generations after the life of the hero, for a deliberate purpose. They belong to the legends that spring up soon after the death of their hero, or even during his lifetime. I may refer to what I have said in the text (p. 111). If we had no other evidence, the tale of the first Easter at Slane and Tara would be in itself a guarantee that the “Patrick legend” could not have been deliberately invented in the seventh century.

One more observation. It would be difficult to explain how it came that, if the author of the Confession spent his life in Leinster, and his name was sufficiently well remembered to make his fortune in the seventh century, no particular church in that region claimed him. Zimmer may get out of the difficulty through his identification of Palladius with Patrick; he may say that Patrick’s church was the Palladian Cell Fine, where memorials of Palladius were preserved. But this explanation would only serve to emphasise the improbability of the theory of identity. It is impossible to understand how Cell Fine remembered its founder as Palladius and not as Patricius, seeing that (ex hypoth.) the name Patricius (as used by the author of the Confession) had so completely superseded the name Palladius, that the bishop was not only glorified as Patricius in the seventh century, but even distinguished definitely from Palladius. Again: either it was remembered in south Ireland or it was not remembered at the beginning of that century, when the Patrician legend is alleged to have taken shape, that Palladius and Patricius were the same person. If it was remembered, then how came it that Palladius-Patricius was differentiated into two, when it was assuredly more in the interests of the Roman cause to glorify an apostle sent by Celestine than to discriminate a successful missionary who was not sent by a Pope, from an unsuccessful missionary who was? If it was not remembered, then the only passage which Zimmer can quote for the identification (Lib. Arm. p. 332, see above, p. 389, note) can be at once eliminated from the discussion, as resting on mere conjecture.

[The argument, which Zimmer adduces for his theory, from the statement that Patrick’s burial-place was unknown, falls to the ground when the evidence in regard to his burial-place is criticised as a whole. See above, Appendix C, 19.]