After Saint Patrick converted the High King of Ireland to Christianity, the Druids quickly lost influence. Kings no longer lived in fear of being sacrificed to the gods by order of a druid. Druids no longer had control over the succession to the throne. Christian Monasteries sprang up which offered access to book-learning and knowledge, and competed with the traditional learning offered by the druids, often considered by the new intellectual elite to be old-fashioned expressions of outdated paganism. The very title "draoi," meaning "druid" went out of fashion, and the leading men of traditional learning took on the title "Ollamh" (pronounce "Ollav"), meaning "Senior person of traditional learning." (In modern times "Ollamh" means "Professor").
The learned people who decided legal disputes became known as "Breithúna," (the plural of "Breitheamh," pronounce "Brehev," meaning "Judge"). The ecclesiastical courts, governed by Canon Law, competed with the lay courts, and, as the Church expanded, many advocated the complete replacement of the secular law by the Canon Law.
KIngs granted land both to the regular clergy and to the monasteries. Such land was not subject to division due to inheritance, but accumulated from generation to generation; and the church became a powerful and wealthy institution. Meanwhile, the poets and bards came to be regarded as a burdensome nuisance.
The obligation of hospitality applied to every king and prince (i.e., landlord). When a band of poets and bards came into your area, you were obliged to be a generous host, and house and feed them while they were with you, and reward them with lavish presents.
The formerly distinct professions of "File" (pronounce "Filla," meaning poet of high learning) and "Bard," (meaning romantic poet, entertainer or song-writer) became obfuscated. The numbers following the poetic profession, however, did not decline. Every king was, by the culture, obliged to employ a File, and a tribute-king (Rú-Rí) was obliged to employ an Ollamh. Each province had an Ard-Ollamh (Chief-Ollav), and the whole country a National Chief Ollamh (Ard-Ollamh Érren). Every Ollamh had a following of many poets, and many students, and a corresponding number of attendants. He was entitled to rent-free land from his king and, indeed, had an equal social ranking to his king.
This new view of the Poetic Man of Learning was exemplified in the person of Seanchán Torphéist (pronounce "Shan-gun Turr-faysht"). "Torphéist" was, as was common in those times, a sobriquet, or nickname, earned during his life. Its meaning was "Toradh Phéist," or "Fruit of a Beast," and the Beast or Monster in question was the Spirit of Poetry. (The Irish word "Piast" or "Péist" had the same Indo-European origin as the English words "Beast" and "Pest," but a meaning more like "Monster").
Seanchán, having completed his ten-year long education for the profession of learned poet, and acquired long years of experience in the employment of lesser kings, went on a performing Circuit that took him into Gaelic Scotland. There, his way was blocked by a terrifying Monster who took over his Spirit. This Monster was the spirit of poetry. We can gather that henceforth, he was no longer just a competent man who could express accepted wisdom in verse form, but was now subject to outbursts of inspirational poetry. Several of his poems are included in the Annals of Ireland, which captured a fraction of the ancient folklore. He was a Man of Learning, a Philosopher, a Raconteur, a Poet, a Bard, and a Performer.
His poem on the genealogy of Finn Mac Cool is the earliest documentary mention of the Fenian Cycle.
He was appointed Ard-Ollamh Chonnachta (Chief Learned Poet of Connacht) by the Great Convention of Drumceat (pronounce "Drum-Katt") in the year 573 AD (approximately 100 years after the death of Saint Patrick). This was a conference of all the kings and prelates of Ireland, called, inter alia, to decide these two important questions:
- Should the traditional, secular, Law, be replaced by the Canon Law, and
- Should the professions of Poet and Bard be stripped of their privileges.
Also to be decided was the question of the Tribute imposed by the High King of Ireland on the Gaelic kingdoms in Scotland.
To plead their case at the Convention, the Scottish kings sent Columcille to represent them.
In A. M. O'Sullivan's colourful account, Columcille had been excommunicated by a conference of the bishops, for interfering in politics and causing a civil war, because he had denounced High King Diarmuid, who was deposed by that war. This sentence was imposed without giving Columcille a chance to defend himself. So, he had come to the conference, with his advocate, Saint Brendan, who had just returned from his famous voyage of discovery to America. Brendan succeeded in getting the conference to lift the excommunication, on condition that Columcille would save, by conversion from paganism, as many souls as were killed in the civil war. He could only do this by travelling to Scotland and converting the Picts, and it was in Scotland he spent the rest of his life. When Columcille arrived at Drumceat, all the kings and prelates of Ireland were already assembled. When he walked in, accompanied by his attendants, all rose to their feet and applauded him "as if he was Saint Patrick himself" (A. M. O'Sullivan: The Story of Ireland).
While O'Sullivan's account is exaggerated, (Columcille was not actually excommunicated, but charges were made against him, and he exiled himself in remorse), he was, nevertheless, to exercise as strong an influence at the conference as that of High King Hugh, himself.
Hugh moved for the abolition of the bardic privileges, the adoption of Canon Law in the civil courts, and the imposition of a Tribute on Caledonia. Columcille opposed all three motions.
Hugh said that the Poets and Bards were an unwarranted burden on Ireland. Their large numbers, demands and entitlements were bankrupting the kings and princes of the nation. There were so many poets and bards, and their servants and attendants, that one third of the population was tied up in that profession. The Brehon Laws, he said, were of pagan origin, were outdated, had too many rules, and should be replaced by the more wholesome Canon Law. He said that the High King of Ireland had a right to collect a tribute from Caledonia, just as he had a right to collect a tribute from the Provincial Kings of Ireland.
Columcille answered that the Canon Law gave guidance to the Conscience, but the Civil Law settled practical questions of Compensation between citizens; the Poetic tradition was necessary for the soul of the nation and the freedom of citizens to express their feelings and opinions; the nation of Caledonia was as entitled to Independence as the nation of Ireland.
Columcille won all three arguments, subject to the right of kings to suitably clip the wings of the poets and bards.
The conference proceeded to supervise the appointments of National and Regional chief poets. Seanchán was appointed Ard-Ollamh of Connacht.
He was subsequently, at the age of 80, appointed as Ard-Ollamh Érenn (Chief Ollav of Ireland).
In this capacity, with his followers of 150 poets, 150 students, attendants to each of these persons, and a dog belonging to each, he descended on Guaire ("Gorey"), the King of Connacht, and stayed with him for a year, a season and a month. Each person in the visiting party had to be provided a room and wined and dined as long as they stayed. Guaire's coffers were emptied by this great imposition, and he sought a legal way to get Seanchán to move out. He thought of an ingenious plan.
He announced to the Poetic Gathering (known as a Poetic Court) that Seanchán's performances to date were excellent, but that the best was yet to come, for he would now call on Seanchán to recite the Táin Bó Cuailgne (The Cattle Raid of Cooley). This, he knew well, was a challenge that no poet in Ireland of that time could meet.
Seanchán rose up in anger, and said that he would no longer accept the hospitality of Guaire; and withdrew his whole retinue from the place. Then, as Ard-Ollamh Érenn, he called a conference of all the poets of Ireland, and asked who among them could relate the Táin. Nobody could relate the whole Táin, but some knew parts of it. This conference believed that the Táin had been written down, but that the book containing the words had been sent abroad. Seanchán pledged to seek and find the Táin.
He set off on a world quest with his sons and a small retinue. They had gone as far as Scotland, when his son, Morgan, became lost in a magic fog, where the spirit of Fergus Mac Róigh appeared to him and recited to him the whole of the Táin.
Thus, the Táin Bó Cuailgne was restored to the people of Ireland.
The conference of Drumceat had failed to clip the wings of the poets and bards, and they remained a great nuisance and a great burden on the economy.
No comments:
Post a Comment