Oh! St. Patrick was a gentleman
Who came of decent people;
He built a church in Dublin Town,
And on it put a steeple.
Who came of decent people;
He built a church in Dublin Town,
And on it put a steeple.
When the world fell into darkness,
the smile of God shone like twilight on Ériu’s Isle. Even as demons
tramped her four green fields, those fields rested still in His hand.
Trees whispered the rumor of His Truth. Druid fires burned in
unconscious vigil for the Light. Then came a night when Holy Fire clove
the ancient shadow with a new dawn for the Gaels. The fearless kindler
of that flame was St. Patrick, who converted the worshippers of sun and
tree to the Son Who hung on a tree.
Like any tale worth its salt, the Apostle of Ireland’s begins with a cataclysm. The black-hulled sloop of the dreaded 4th century marauder, Niall of the Nine Hostages, came roaring down the shores of a coastal town in Scotland. The pirates raided the village, dragging droves of captives aboard their groaning vessel. Among the prisoners was a lad of sixteen named Patrick: son of Calpornius, a Roman official, and his wife Conchessa, sister of St. Martin of Tours.
Docking within the over-kingdom of Dalriada in Northern Ireland, the boy was sold as a slave to the Druid high-priest Milchu. Patrick learned Gaelic and the rites of Druidism from his master. He learned to make cheese and butter with his master’s children. And he learned to pray on the slopes of Slemish, fending against weather and wolves and finding solace in solitude.
After six years, a dream shattered the peace Patrick had found as a slave. “Go, Patrick,” a voice called through his sleep, “thy ship is prepared! Arise and go!” Patrick arose and went. Taking nothing, he slipped unseen from his master’s house and fled two hundred miles down the western shore to Killala Bay, where he saw a ship in the act of disembarking. “Thy ship departs, Patrick!” the voice sounded again in his ears.
Exhausted, Patrick plunged into the surf and caught a rope tossed to him by one of the sailors on board.
He was a free man.
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