IF Scotland had the honour of giving to Ireland one of her greatest missionaries in the person of Patrick, Ireland paid back the debt when she gave Columba, one of the most noted of the early Scottish missionaries. It is true that he was not the first to bring the glad tidings to Scotland; that honour belongs to Ninian, who laboured among the southern Picts about the year 401. Neither can he be called in the strictest sense the apostle of Scotland, as the sphere of his missionary labours and exploits was confined chiefly to the Northern Picts. But though not the first in the field, and though the sphere of his labours was somewhat limited, yet there is no name in the early ecclesiastical history of Scotland so familiar and so reverenced as that of Columba.
The chief source of our information concerning him is gleaned from Adamnan’s Life, written about a century after Columba’s death. It has been described by the learned Dr. Reeves “as an inestimable literary relic of the Irish Church, perhaps, with all its defects, the most valuable monument of that institution that has escaped the ravages of time.” This is the estimate of the work from an antiquarian standpoint, but viewed from the historical Dr. MacLauchlan’s description of the work is much nearer the mark. “A greater congeries of absurdity and pure fable,” he says, “does not exist within the range of literature, civil or sacred, than his life of Columba” (Early Scottish Church, p. 148). Here is an illustration related to us with all gravity by Adamnan:—”At another time a certain youth, named Columban, grandson of Brian, came forward hurriedly and stopped at the door of the little cell in which the blessed man was writing. This same person being on his way home from the milking of the cows, and carrying on his back a vessel full of new milk, asked the saint to bless his burden, as he usually did. Then the saint, being at the time at some distance in front of him, raised his hand and formed the saving sign in the air, which at once was greatly agitated; the bar, which fastened the lid of the pail, being pushed back through the two openings that received it, was shot away to a great distance, while the lid fell to the earth, and the greater part of the milk was spilled on the ground. The young lad then laid down the vessel, with the little milk that remained, on its bottom on the ground, and kneeled down in prayer. The saint said to him, ‘Rise up, Columban, for thou has acted negligently in thy work to-day, inasmuch as thou didst not banish the demon that lurked in the bottom of the empty vessel by forming on it the sign of the cross of our Lord before the milk was poured into it; and now, as thou seest, being unable to bear the power of that sign, he has quickly fled in terror, troubled the whole vessel in every corner, and spilled the milk. Bring the vessel, then, nearer to me here that I may bless it.’ This being done, the half-empty pail, which the saint had blessed, was found the same instant filled by divine agency, and the little that had previously remained in the bottom was at once increased under the blessing of his holy hand, so as to fill it to the brim” (Book II., chap. xv.). Illustrations of the same blind belief in the absurd and ridiculous might be multiplied with the greatest ease, but enough has been quoted to show that the age of Adamnan was an age that revelled in puerilities and absurdities that were more in keeping under the regime of the dark, brooding mists of heathenism than under the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ. But unsatisfactory as the work is to the serious student of history from many standpoints, yet it has had the honour of being annotated with learned and copious notes by the distinguished Irish scholar, Dr. Reeves. His edition has been published by the Irish Archæological Society and the Bannatyne Club; it also forms one of the volumes in the series of the Historians of Scotland, with additional notes by W. F. Skene. Dr. Reeves’ introduction, notes, and appendices throw a flood of light on the early history of the famous Columban institution at Iona. It is no exaggeration when Skene speaks of Reeves’ work as probably the ablest and most exhaustive work that has appeared in our time—a perfect wonder of erudition. Other biographies of Columba are still extant, such as those by Cumme and Colgan, but are of comparatively little value. Those curious in such matters will find abundant information in Dr. Reeves’ edition.
The life of the most honoured of Scotland’s early missionaries is just sufficiently tinged with romance to awaken the interest of those who generally regard such subjects as the peculiar province of the enthusiast and antiquarian. He was born at Gartan, Donegal, on the day that Buite, the founder of Monasterboice, a famous teacher, died, which is known from contemporary evidence to have been the 7th of December. Authorities differ as to the year, but Dr. Reeves, calculating from Adamnan’s data, gives the year 521 as the most probable. His father, Fedhlimidh, was a member of the reigning families of Ireland and British Dalriada. His mother, Eithne, was also of the royal line, being descended from an illustrious provincial king. He was baptized by Cruithnean, receiving the two names Crunthann (wolf) and Colum (dove). The former he dropped in after years, retaining the name Colum which in its Latin form, Columba, is the name by which he is known in church history. The suffix cille (i.e., church) was afterwards added because, it is said, of his diligent attendance at church.
In early life he set out for Moville, where there was a famous institution presided over by Finnian; here he was ordained a deacon. He next moved south to Leinster, and placed himself under the instruction of a secular teacher—the bard Gemman. In after years at the great council of Drumceatt, when it was decided to abolish the order of the bards, who had become an intolerable nuisance owing to the number of their attendants, Columba stood up manfully for them, and saved their order from extinction. The fruit of the early training he received from Gemman may be seen in the Altus, a poem of twenty-two stanzas of twelve lines each (with the exception of the first, which has fourteen lines) which is attributed to him. The first stanza, from the translation of Rev. Anthony Mitchell taken from Bishop Dowden’s Early Celtic Church in Scotland, gives one a fair idea of the beauty of the poem:—
Ancient of days, enthroned on high!
The Father unbegotten He,
Whom space containeth not nor time,
Who was and is and aye shall be:
And one born Son, and Holy Ghost,
Who co-eternal glory share
One only God, of Persons Three
We praise, acknowledge, and declare.
We next find Columba at the most famous of the Irish schools—the monastery of Clonard, which was situated on the upper waters of the Boyne. The numbers attending this famous school are estimated by Ussher at 3000. It was while here he was ordained a presbyter or priest, as the Roman Catholic biographers would have it. The event is interesting as an unpleasant revelation of history to writers of the Episcopalian persuasion who make much of orders. Reeves regards the story as a fiction of a later date, while Bishop Dowden naively remarks that its historical value is of the slightest. The story is as follows:—Columba, in order that he might be ordained a bishop, was sent to Etchen, bishop (Bishop in the Early Celtic Church is not used in the modern diocesan sense, but more in its New Testament signification.—Vide Reeves on the Culdees.) at the monastery of Clonard, with a request for his consecration. On reaching Clonard he found the good bishop ploughing in the fields. He informs him of his mission, but by some mistake or other Columba was ordained simply a presbyter instead of a bishop. Now, according to true canonical ordination of a bishop, there must at least be three bishops, but here there was only one. It is somewhat amusing to read the disquisitions of Episcopalian writers on such incidents, for it cannot be denied that they were very common in Ireland even in later times. Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbury (1070-1093), and his successor Anselm (1093-1114), complained of this practice. Bishop Dowden says that such a practice has been regarded by the church as valid, though uncanonical and irregular. Such a distinction may satisfy the conscience of those who advocate a desperate cause; others may be allowed to smile, and hold the opinion that the advocates of apostolical succession are in a somewhat tight corner.
We next hear of Columba at the monastery of Glasnevin (now a suburb of Dublin). Here he laboured, planting churches and building monasteries. This brings us to the great event of his life, when he set out from his native land for Scotland. He was now 42 years of age, and was thus in the very prime of life. The story of the events that led up to Columba taking such an important step are well known. He had taken a copy of the Book of Psalms belonging to his old teacher Finnian of Moville. Finnian demanded that the copy should be given him. This request Columba refused. The matter was referred to the King of Meath, who decided in a full court that as to every cow belongs its calf, so to every book belongs its copy. Columba, smarting under this adverse ruling, called his clansmen together. A bloody battle was fought at Cooldrevny, near Sligo, in which the clansmen of Columba were victorious, leaving 3000 men of the King of Meath dead on the field. From stray accounts it seems that Columba was excommunicated after this carnage of blood, and on consulting with Molaise, his co-arb (spiritual adviser), he was advised to leave his native land and devote himself to missionary labours among the heathen Picts until he won to Christ as many as he slew in battle. Attended by twelve companions, so says the story, he set sail from Ireland, first landing at Oronsay, but as he could see the shores of his beloved Ireland from the highest point in the island, he set sail again, this time landing at Iona. The bay where his currach first touched the shore is still called Port a’ Churraich. Ireland now could no longer be seen, and the evidence of this is perpetuated in the topography of the island in the hill which bears the name Carn cul-ri-Eirinn.
Such, then, is the story, so full of romance, which was destined in after ages to so powerfully affect the imagination of Christendom that the lonely island of Iona came to be regarded as a sacred spot. But romantic as this version of Columba’s first impetus to labour in Scotland may be, it is only just to point out that modern historians, such as Skene, Stokes, Dowden, and MacLauchlan, regard it more as a legend than anything else. Reeves, on the other hand, is disposed to accept it as not altogether valueless. According to Skene, Stokes, and Dowden, it was love to God and his kinsmen in Dalriada that moved Columba to set out on his eventful journey. The King of Dalriada and his subjects were at this time in imminent danger from the merciless attacks of the Picts, and it was with the view, says Professor Stokes, of rendering assistance to his kinsmen, not with the might of temporal warfare, but with those spiritual weapons which alone can curb and arrest an unregenerate nature that Columba set out for Scotland. Be this as it may, it is evident that two or three years before Columba’s arrival the Scots of Dalriada suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of the Northern Picts under their powerful and warlike king, Brude, who had his headquarters at Inverness, and who will again meet us in connection with Columba’s missionary labours.
Such, then, are the two versions of the story that tells us of how Columba came to Iona. To this day this otherwise insignificant island bears in its name evidence of its early connection with Columba, bearing as it does the name of I-coluim-cille—i.e., Iona of Columba of the Churches. The common Scotch tradition that Columba exclaimed on the first sight of Iona, Chi mi i (i.e., I see it), and which has been accepted as an explanation of the name, is ingenious if lacking in philological accuracy. Dr. Reeves, however, points out that Iona is a misspelling of Ioua, which is an adjective with a feminine termination, the root of which is Iou, like Eo of Tighernach and Walafridus, which was sound in one syllable, something like the English yeo.
The island so famous in ecclesiastical history cannot lay great claim to scenic beauty. It lies north-east and south-west, and is about three miles long, varying in breadth from a mile to a mile and a half. The surface is very uneven, and for the most part consists of small green patches, alternating with rocky projections, which in the northern half of the island are more high and craggy, being intersected with deep ravines; but in the southern half, where the general level is higher, are more continuous, and present to the eye an undulating expanse of a grey barren waste. The highest hill, Dun I, is only 330 feet high. It appears that Columba received a grant of the island from his kinsman Conal, king of Dalriada. When he had built a church, and erected monastic cells of a rude kind, he turned his attention to his Scotic (i.e., Irish) brethren in Dalriada, and to the work of evangelising the Northern Picts. The king who reigned over this warlike tribe was Brude, to whom reference has already been made. Authorities are divided as to the exact place of his residence. Reeves says it was at Craig Phadrug, the vitrified fort in the Beauly Firth. Skene is of opinion that it was either at Torvean or the eminence called the Crown. But the matter is immaterial to us at present; sufficient for our purpose is to note that Columba reached the residence of his pagan king, and effected one of the greatest triumphs of his missionary labours. Proceeding up the valley where the Caledonian Canal now runs, accompanied by Comgall and Cainnech (known as Kenneth in Scotland), two names famous in the early Celtic Church, he preached the gospel as he went. Mr. Mackay, in his Glen Urquhart and Glen Moriston, gives interesting information as to the impression Columba must have made on the natives, judging from the many references to his name in the topography of the district. In reaching the castle of King Brude at Inverness Columba found the doors shut in his face. But this only gave scope for Adamnan’s credulity, and the result was, as the credulous biographer tells us, that after making the sign of the cross the doors flew open. Brude is represented as awe-struck, and receives Columba with reverence, and in due time renounces heathenism. Then there is set before us by Adamnan a series of miracles and wonders that well might satisfy the most credulous Papist that ever breathed. But divesting this great event of the miraculous, and viewing it as a sober fact of history, as it no doubt was, there can be no doubt but it was the greatest triumph of his missionary career.
After this Columba’s life work seems to have ended, at least so far as history records. From the day that he landed at Iona till his death his life was full of incident, labour, and wearisome toil. Now and again he appears in his native land, notably at the Synod of Drumceatt in 575, where he was instrumental in saving the order of the bards from extinction. But as every life story has its end, however great be its achievements, so also had Columba’s. After 20 years of incessant labour in Iona he felt at last the infirmities of age creeping over him. Like Knox, he longed to get home to his “heavenly fatherland.” Almost his last moments were spent in transcribing the Psalter, and when he had come to the verse of the 33rd Psalm, where it is written, “They that seek the Lord shall want no manner of thing that is good,” he said, “Here at the end of the page I must stop, and what follows let Baithene write.” On Saturday night (which was then called Sabbath) at twelve o’clock, when the bell called for prayers, Columba arose and went to the church, but weakness overcoming him, he fell down in a swoon. The brethren, discovering that he was dying, began to weep, but turning to them, he lifted up his hand to bless them, for he could not speak, and thereafter quietly passed away.
So died one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of the early missionaries of the Celtic Church. To us living at the distance of centuries from those unwearied activities that have embalmed his memory in the history of the church we cannot but feel that we have to deal with a striking personality, a man of indomitable courage, and a perseverance that made light of every difficulty that stood in the way of the accomplishment of the great aim of his life. He may have been a man of quick, fiery temper that did not hesitate to lead on his armies to slaughter for the most trivial of causes, but in this he was the victim of his age, and heir to those Celtic propensities that find more pleasure in the fight than in the hard-to-be-learned lessons of the school of patience.
The great popularity of Columba is seen in the number of churches dedicated to his memory and the number of places that bear his name. In Scotland there are the old monastic ruins at Loch Columkille, in the parish of Kilmuir, Skye; ruins of an old church called St. Colme’s Church at Snizort, Isle of Skye; Eilean Columkille in Portree Bay; a chapel called St. Colin’s Church at Garien, in the parish of Stornoway; St. Columba’s Church in the parish of Lochs; one of the three ancient chapels of St. Kil’da is dedicated to Columba; at Dirlet, in the parish of Halkirk, there was a chapel of Columba; in Island Comb, in the parish of Tongue, off the north coast of Sutherland, sometimes called Eileanan-Naomh; and again at Kingussie, in the parish of Badenoch. Further interesting information may be gathered from Reeves’ Introduction on these matters, but sufficient has been written to show that, taking Columba all in all, the estimate of modern historians of his character and influence is borne out by the testimony of his contemporaries.