By Cat Flack
Many believe that St. Patrick was an Irishman who charmed all the snakes off the Emerald Isle into the roaring sea to make Ireland snake-free. Well, I am here to tell you who he really was, and how the legend of his snake-clearing tale came to be.
Patrick was actually a Welshman who was captured by a band of rogue pirates led by an Irishman called Niall of the Nine Hostages, or, more commonly, Niall Naoi nGiallach (try saying that three times fast after having a glass or two of Guinness!). His name was actually Maewyn Succat, but Romanized to become Patrick, although some feel that he became Patrick after Patricius, which means father in Greek.
Poor Patrick was but a boy when he was sold to a farmer named Milchu and left to care for the sheep. Patrick would pray day and night for a chance to escape and make his way home to his mother (Conchessa) and his father (Calpurnius). It was while he was guarding the sheep and praying that he thought he heard the voice of God telling him that he would escape and return home to guide his people down the road of Christianity and leave their Pagan ways behind. He did eventually escape via a ship that was en route to France.
He joined a monastery and studied under St. Germain. It was about 432 A.D. when Patrick was chosen by the monks at Auxerre to lead a delegation of 25 to spread the word and faith of Christianity across Ireland, a land where Paganism was the going faith of choice (all those darn Druids).
Before Patrick headed out, he was made a Bishop by Pope Celestine. Patrick was not actually the Pope’s first choice – a fellow Bishop by the name of Palladius was chosen and sent, but he died shortly after arriving in Ireland (obviously the luck of the Irish was not on his side). So Patrick set out with his followers and spent a cold winter with a reformed farmer named Dichiu.
In the spring, Patrick faced the most powerful man in Ireland, the High King of Tara. In the very olden days there were many ardent rules and regulations set by the governing bodies of the land, like the High King of Tara – things that you and I take for granted nowadays. For instance, you were not allowed to build a fire outdoors unless you had the King’s written consent, and you were not allowed to have a bonfire before the King did, as this huge fire was an important celebratory signal of the start of spring.
Patrick went ahead a lit a huge fire in direct breach of the King’s orders. Of course, Patrick was accosted and taken to see the King to answer for his actions, which is exactly what he was hoping would happen. (To have simply asked for an audience with the King would have taken too long.)
When Patrick was taken to meet the King and explain his actions, he came carrying a huge cross and singing a hymn, which to this day is still known as the Breastplate of St. Patrick. (I know, I know you just want me to hurry up and get to the part with the green beer!) Anyway, the meeting with the King went exceedingly well and Patrick was given carte blanche to make his way across Ireland, converting as many Pagans as he could to Christianity.
This all seems a little too easy, given the time in which this all happened. People were very superstitious (there was no Discovery Channel to tell them why certain things happen), and Patrick seemed to have a power to make things happen. The Druids were really feeling the pinch of Patrick and were terribly incensed that the King would be so quick to allow Patrick such freedom with his preaching. They told Patrick that if he were so special, then he needed to show them that he had special powers, so they demanded that he make it snow. Patrick simply replied that God, not he, was in command of the weather.
Imagine Patrick’s shock when he looked out to see the countryside covered in snow, when only minutes ago the spring sunshine was making itself felt (yeah, that happens all the time at my place, a mere 1,000 feet above Creemore with or without Patrick and his band of merry Druids)! Just as quickly, the snow passed only to be replaced by the spring sunshine again.
Patrick did what any God-fearing man would do in the same situation – he made the sign of the cross and said a silent prayer of thanks for his incredible luck. The Druids then asked Patrick to explain his religion, this “Christianity.” Patrick explained that, unlike the Druids, the Christians only worshipped one God who had three personalities: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The Druids almost spit their beer out laughing. How preposterous an idea that is! Patrick simply plucked a shamrock from the ground and said, “There is only one stem but three leaves, so it is with the Blessed Trinity; only one God but three persons stemming from the same divinity.”
So now comes the part about the snakes. There is a lot of symbolism in religion and the part about driving the snakes from Ireland is simply a form of symbolism. Paganism at that time was symbolized by a snake, and Patrick was the religious man who drove the snake (Paganism) from Ireland. Patrick lived to be an old man of 76 (not too shabby for the 400s), dying on March 17, 461 A.D. It is believed that his remains are in Downpatrick County Down.
So now you know the condensed version of the history of how a Welshman became the patron saint of Ireland, driving out the snake of Paganism and giving us all reason to drink beer (whether it be green, black, brown or a golden hue) in his honour. I wonder if anyone else sees the irony this? Oh well, the Irish always love to have a reason to a party and who am I to knock over that pot of gold anyway? So here’s to leprechauns, unicorns and the Blarney Stone!