_S. ITHA_
What Bridget was for Leinster, that was Itha or Ita for Munster; and
from the way in which her cult spread through Devon and Cornwall, we are
led to suspect that there were a good many religious houses and churches
in the ancient kingdom of Damnonia that were under her rule, and looked
to Killeedy in Limerick as their mother-house.
S. Itha was a shoot of the royal family of the Nandesi, in the present
county of Waterford. Her father’s name was Kennfoelad, and her mother’s
was Nect. They were Christians, as appears from the fact of S. Itha
having been baptised in childhood.
She was born about 480, and probably at an early date received the veil
“in the Church of God of the clan.”
Unfortunately we have not the life of S. Itha in a very early form; it
comes to us sadly corrupted with late fables foisted in to magnify the
miraculous powers of the saint.
She moved to the foot of Mount Luachra, in Hy Conaill, and founded the
monastery of Cluain Credhuil, now Killeedy, in a wild and solitary
region, backed by the mountains of Mullaghareirk, and on a stream that
is a confluent of the Deel, which falls into the Shannon at Askaton.
The chief of the clan or sept of Hy Conaill offered her a considerable
tract of land for the support of her establishment, but she refused to
receive more than was sufficient for a modest garden.
Let us try to get some idea of what one of these monasteries was like.
In the first place a ditch and a bank were drawn round the space that
was to be occupied, and the summit of the bank was further protected by
a palisade of stakes with osier wattling. In such places as were stony,
and where no earthwork could well be made, in place of a bank, there was
a wall.
Within the enclosure were a number of beehive-shaped cells, either of
wattle or of stone and turf. Certainly the favourite style of building
was with wood; but of course all such wooden structures have perished,
whereas some of those of stone have been preserved. There were churches,
apparently small, and a refectory, bakehouses, and a brewery and
storehouses.
Outside the defensive wall of enclosure lived the retainers of the
abbey. Where an abbot or abbess was head of an ecclesiastical tribe, he
or she was bound to find land for each household: nine furrows of arable
land, nine of bog, nine of grass-land, and as much of forest. As the
population increased, a secular or an ecclesiastical chief was obliged
to obtain an extension of territory, or would be held to have forfeited
his claims as a chief. This led to incessant feud among the Celtic
princes; it forced the saints to be continually striving to obtain fresh
grants of land and make fresh settlements. When there was no more chance
of obtaining land in Ireland, they sent swarms to Britain and to
Brittany, to found colonies there, under the jurisdiction of the saint.
This explains the way in which the Celtic saints were incessantly moving
about. They were forced to do so to extend their lands so as to find
farms for their vassals.
A very terrible story is told of the condition of affairs in Ireland in
657. The population of the island had increased to such an extent that
the chiefs could not find land enough for the people. Dermot and
Blaithmac, the kings, summoned an assembly of clergy and nobles to
discuss the situation and consider a remedy. They concluded that the
“elders” should put up prayer to the Almighty to send a pestilence, “to
reduce the number of the lower class, that the rest might live in
comfort.” S. Fechin of Fore, on being consulted, approved of this
extraordinary petition. And the prayer was answered from heaven, but the
vengeance of God fell mainly on the nobles and clergy, for the Yellow
Plague which ensued, which swept away at least a third of the
population, fell with special heaviness on the nobles and clergy, of
whom multitudes, including the two kings and S. Fechin of Fore, were
carried off.
S. Itha does not seem to have coveted land, and she assumed a different
position from that taken by S. Bridget. She was not an independent
chieftainess over a sacred tribe, but acted as prophetess to the secular
tribe of the Hy Conaill. Just as among the Germans, the warriors had
their wise women who attended the tribe, blessed the arms of the
warriors, and uttered oracles, so was it among the Celts; and we are
assured that the entire sept, or clan, unanimously adopted S. Itha as
their religious directress and, in fact, wise woman. In such cases, when
a prophecy came true, when a military undertaking blessed by the Saint
proved successful, the usage was, that an award was made in perpetuity
to him or to her, a tax imposed that must be paid regularly by the
tribe.
Thus there were two ways by which a Celtic saint might subsist—either as
an independent chieftain over a sacred tribe, or as the patroness or
prophetess of a tribe, not owning much land, but drawing a revenue from
the sept or clan.
We have a very curious illustration of this in the life of S. Findcua,
who was the great seer and prophet of Munster. He blessed the arms of
the king seven times in as many battles, and was rewarded for each; he
received tribute in this wise: “The first calf, and the first lamb, and
the first pig,” from every farm for ever. “For every homestead a sack of
malt, with a corresponding supply of food yearly.”
Now there is not a trace of S. Itha having allowed herself on any
occasion to degrade herself to blessing and cursing, blessing the arms
of the Leinster men and covering their foes with imprecations. She
succeeded in inspiring the whole of the people with such reverence, that
they were ready to receive what she declared as a message from God, and
she used this position for no other object than that of advancing God’s
kingdom, stirring up to good works, encouraging peace, and restraining
violence. She showed no eagerness for gifts. On one occasion a wealthy
man, to whom she had rendered a service, insisted on forcing money on
her. She at once withdrew her hand, absolutely refused it, and to show
him her determination, washed her hands that, she said, had been defiled
by contact with his filthy lucre. God’s gifts were not to be traded
with, and profit must not be made out of an office such as that filled
by her.
Parents, desirous of having their children brought up to the
ecclesiastical state, committed them to her; and thus she became the
foster-mother of S. Pulcherius or Mochoemoc, of S. Cumine, and S.
Brendan. The latter was committed to her when one year old, and she kept
him with her till he was five. Throughout his life Brendan retained not
merely the tenderest love for Itha, but such a reverence that he
consulted her in all matters of importance.
One day Brendan asked her what three works were, in her opinion, most
well-pleasing to God. She replied, “Faith out of a pure heart, sincerity
of life, and tender charity.”
“And what,” further asked Brendan, “what are most displeasing to God?”
“A spiteful tongue, a love of what smacks of evil, and avarice,” was her
ready reply.
Brendan, as a little fellow, was the pet of the community, and all the
sisters loved to have him and dance him in their arms. In the life of S.
Brendan is inserted a snatch from an older Irish ballad concerning him:
“Angels in shape of virgins white
This little babe did tend.
From hand to hand, fair forms of light,
Sweet faces o’er him bend.”
S. Erc, Bishop of Slane, seems to have been Itha’s principal adviser and
friend; and when the five years of Brendan’s fostering were over, Erc
took the little boy away to teach him the Psalms and the Gospels. S. Erc
found it rather hard to keep the boy supplied with milk, but a hind with
her fawn, so says the legend, was caught, and gave her milk to Brendan.
It may be asked, What was the mode of life of the community of S. Itha?
Unhappily we do not know so much of that of the religious women as we do
of that of the monasteries of men, yet we cannot doubt that the rule of
the house for women much resembled that in the others. Here is an
account of the order as given in the life of S. Brioc, an Irishman by
race, though born in Cardigan.
“At fixed hours they all assembled in the church to celebrate divine
worship. After the office of vespers (6 p.m.) they refreshed their
bodies by a common meal. Then, having said compline, they dispersed in
silence to their beds. At midnight they rose and assembled to sing
devoutly psalms and hymns to the glory of God. Then they returned to
their beds. But at cockcrow, at the sound of the bell, they sprang from
their couches to sing lauds. From the conclusion of this office to the
second hour (8 a.m.) they were engaged in spiritual exercises and
prayer. Then they cheerfully betook them to manual labour.”
Happily one of the monastic offices of the early Irish Church has been
deciphered from a nearly obliterated leaf of the Irish MS. _Book of
Mulling_: it consisted of the Magnificat. What preceded this is
illegible: some verses of a hymn; the reading of the Beatitudes from the
Sermon on the Mount, a hymn of S. Secundinus, a commemoration of S.
Patrick, a portion of a hymn by S. Hilary of Poitiers, the Apostles’
Creed, the Lord’s prayer, and a collect.
The work of the day consisted in teaching the young girls their letters,
in needlework, tending the cattle—in which each, abbess included, took
turn—grinding corn in the handmill, and cultivating the garden.
Numerous visitors arrived to consult S. Itha, and she most certainly had
fixed hours in which to receive them.
One striking instance of the veneration in which she was held is that S.
Coemgen of Glendalough, when dying, sent to entreat her to come to him;
he would have no one else minister to him in his last sickness, and he
begged her, when he expired to place her hand over his mouth and close
it.
One Beoan was a famous artificer; he was a native of Connaught. He went
to Itha and passed into her service; but was summoned by his military
chief to attend him in one of his raids. He departed most reluctantly.
Itha was greatly distressed at losing him. As he did not return after a
skirmish, she went to the scene of the encounter, and found him
grievously wounded, but still living. Under her fostering care he
recovered. According to late legend, his head had been cut off and
thrown away. She found his body but not his head, so she called “Beoan!
Beoan!” Whereupon the head came flying through the air to her, and she
set it on again. So a very simple transaction was magnified into a
ridiculous fable.
After leaving her, S. Brendan went about with Bishop Erc in his waggon,
from which the bishop preached to the people. One day when Erc was
addressing a crowd, Brendan was in the back of the waggon, looking over
the side, clearly not attending to the sermon. Then a small,
fair-haired, rosy-faced girl came near, and seeing the little fellow
peeping over the side, she tried to scramble up the waggon-wheel to get
to Brendan and play with him. But he laid hold of the reins and lashed
her with them, so that she was forced to desist, and fell back crying.
Erc was much annoyed at Brendan’s conduct, and sent him into the
black-hole in punishment.
Some years later, Itha required Brendan to come to her: she was in great
trouble, and needed his assistance. He went accordingly, and with many
tears she told him that one of her pupils had run away some time before,
and had fallen into very bad courses, which had led at last to her being
reduced to be a slave-girl in Connaught. Would he go in search of her
and bring her back, with assurance that everything would be forgiven and
forgotten?
Brendan readily undertook the task, and succeeded in redeeming the girl
and restoring her to her spiritual mother.
Now Brendan himself got into trouble. He had gone with a boat one day to
an island, taking with him two lads, one quite young. He left one boy in
charge of the boat, and advanced up the land with the other. Then this
latter said to him, “Master, the tide will rise before we get back, and
I am sure my little brother cannot manage the boat alone.”
“Be silent,” retorted Brendan. “Do you suppose that I do not care for
him as much as you do yourself?”
After a while the young man returned to the matter. “I am sure,” said
he, “it is not safe to leave the boy unassisted. The current runs very
strong.”
“Bad luck to you!” said Brendan, flaming up,—he was a peppery man,—“Go
yourself, then;” and the youth took him at his word and found the boy
struggling with the boat, tide and wind were driving from shore, and he
was unable to control the coracle. The elder ran into the water to
assist his brother, and a great wave swept him off his feet and he was
drowned, but the little boy escaped.
After this S. Brendan had no peace of mind. He thought himself
responsible for the loss of the youth. He had wished him “Bad luck,” and
bad luck indeed had fallen to him.
He went at once to his foster-mother, and consulted her.
It is quite possible that the relatives of the drowned youth had taken
the matter up, and pursued Brendan in blood-feud. So Itha, after mature
consideration, advised Brendan to leave Ireland for a while; and in
punishment for his hastiness, and for having caused the death of the
youth, she bade him abstain from blood in everything.
So Brendan started. He went to Armorica, and determined to visit Gildas,
the historian, who was then at his abbey of Rhuys. Gildas was a sour,
ill-tempered man, very hard; and when Brendan arrived, it was just after
sundown and the gates of the monastery were closed. He announced who he
was—a traveller from Ireland—but Gildas replied that rules must be kept,
and it was against his rule to open after set of sun, so Brendan was
constrained to spend the night outside the gates.
Thence he went to Dol, but after a while, and a visit to S. David in
Wales, he returned to Ireland, and now Itha told him a marvellous story.
There was a rumour that far away to the west beyond the horizon was a
wondrous land of beauty. He must not remain in Ireland: let him put to
sea, sail after the sun as it set, and discover the mysterious land
beyond the Atlantic.
The imagination of Brendan was fired; he set to work to construct three
large vessels of wickerwork, and he covered them with skins; each vessel
contained thirty men—some were clergy, a good many laymen—and he took a
fool with him, because he begged hard to be admitted. Brendan was absent
three or five years, it is uncertain which—for apparently the time of
his absence in Brittany is included in one of the computations.
Wonderful stories are told of what he saw and did, but no trust can be
put in the narrative. On his return he went to Itha to report himself.
She received him with great pleasure, but objected that he had not
literally obeyed her, for his sails had been made of the skins of
beasts, so had been the covering of his boats, and cattle had been
slaughtered for the purpose, so that he had not wholly abstained from
blood.
But it is doubtful whether this is what she really said. It is probably
the legend writer’s explanation for what follows. “Why,” asked Itha,
“should you risk these lengthy voyages in such frail vessels as coracles
made of basket-work covered with hides? Next time build boats of wood.”
This was a new idea. The Irish, like the Welsh, had hitherto used large
coracles, and the only wooden boats they had employed were trunks of
trees hollowed out, and these only on lakes.
Brendan at once seized on the suggestion, and constructed ships of wood,
which were the first ever built in Ireland, and these were due to the
idea of S. Itha.
Brendan made a second voyage to the land beyond the ocean, and it is
possible that he may have actually reached America; but, as already
said, nothing trustworthy has come to us of the result of his attempts.
Itha had a brother, S. Finan, and she was related to S. Senan of
Achadh-coel.
Itha in her old age was attacked by perhaps the most terrible and
painful disease to which poor suffering mortality is subject, and it is
one to which women fall victims more often than men. She was attacked in
her breast, but endured her pains night and day with the utmost patience
and trust in God’s mercy. Her nuns were affected to tears at her
sufferings, but she had always a smile and cheerful words on her lips to
banish their discouragement.
She died at length on January 15th, in the year 569 or 570, and was laid
in her church of Cluain Credhuil, which has since borne the name of
Killeedy or the Church of Ida.
She must have been known beyond the island of Ireland, for in the
Salisbury Martyrology she is entered in strange form as “In Ireland the
festival of S. Dorothea, also called Sith (S. Ith)” on January 15th.
In Cornwall a lofty and bare hill, that commands the Atlantic and the
coast, is crowned by a great ruined camp. It had belonged to the
British, but was wrested from them and became a stronghold of the
Saxons, who held it so as to dominate the entire neighbourhood. This is
Hellborough, not far from Camelford. It continued to be a royal castle,
the property of the Crown, though it does not seem that any mediæval
castle was built upon it. Now, curiously enough, in the midst of this
great camp is a mound of stone or cairn, and on this cairn is a little
chapel, at present in ruins, dedicated to the saint whose life has just
been given. And on the river Camel, that flows into the Padstow estuary,
is a parish that bears the name, though corrupted into S. Issey. But
near Exeter is a parish church that has her as patroness with the name
unmutilated, as S. Ide.
How came these dedications in Cornwall and Devon? Either because S.
Brendan on his way home from Brittany founded the churches in memory of
his dear foster-mother, or else because here were colonies of holy women
from the mother-house in Limerick.
In or about 656 Cuimin of Connor wrote the “Characteristics of the Irish
Saints” in metre, and this is what he says of Itha:—
“My (dear) Itha, much beloved of fosterage,
Firmly rooted in humility, but never base,
Laid not her cheek to the ground,
Ever, ever full of the love of God.”
[Illustration: S. HILDA.]