
About this episode
On today’s Saturday Matinee, we hear about the surprising childhood of the "Apostle of Ireland" Saint Patrick.
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History Daily — Saturday Matinee: Past Lives. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.
In a very real way, I owe my entire career to Patrick Wyman, host of the podcast we're sharing on today's Saturday, Mattinee. It was the success of his show Tides of History, the got the then CEO and founder of Wondry Enthusiastic about history podcasts, which eventually led to a phone call with me to discuss what would eventually become my first big success American history tellers. In fact, Patrick Wyman was my very first interviewee for that show, and I was nervous. I had no idea what I was doing, but thankfully Patrick did, and years later, he still does. That show of his Tides of History is winding down, but Patrick's been hard at work on a new one he's calling past lives. In this show, he brings you the real-life stories of some of the most famous, infamous, and consequential people to have ever lived, including today's subject, one of the best-known former slaves of his era, St. Patrick.
If you didn't know that he was enslaved, me neither. So stay tuned, there's more to learn. I hope you enjoyed. While you're listening, be sure to search for and follow past lives. We put a link in the show notes to make it easy for you. The wind never stopped here. A tricuous rand, hard and fast, through the woods of Focluth, buffeted by the gusts of his back. There are many branches above and around him rattled and shook, and the wind blowing in from the open ocean a few miles away. It always carried an icy edge that chilled anyone standing in its path to the bone. More often than not, rain came with it in great sheets of driving bullets that stung where they struck skin. Patrickius had thought he knew rain and wind and cold before the raiders snatched him from his home in Britain and brought him across the sea to this foreign land.
He had been wrong, about so many things. That was six years ago. Six years of cold, wet nights camped on green hills, with the flocks of sheep his master made him ten. Patrickius hadn't felt warm since the day the Irish slavers came to his father's villa and heard him, and so many others, onto waiting boats. Then came the short, storm-lashed cross. The long-forced marches, the long muddy roads with chains and ropes chafing at his limbs. The incessant blisters on his feet and the sting of his master's hand. It was cold and wet up in the hills with the sheep, but at least there he wasn't constantly at risk of a beating for a wayward word or perceived sheep. His bare frozen feet sank into the mud of the forest path. His soaked waltunic clung to his chafed legs. But now Patrickius heard the voice of God telling him it was time to leave. He thought it was God's voice at least. He had sometimes wondered if it was despair or madness speaking to him, or one of the ancient spirits of this benighted land. But here and now, in the woods of Focluth, he was certain it was God.
Patrickius would return home. He would make it so because Patrickius was now a slave of God. No longer his master's property, he had nothing to fear. God told himself. Slaves were rarely freed here in Ireland. His father, a Roman, had always treated the slaves he owned decently and had freed several of them over the years, a trickiest remembered. For a while after his own capture, he had held out hope that he might eventually leave captivity. But these Irish were barbarians compared to the Romans amongst whom he'd grown up. To win did Patrickius' back ebbed as he ran deeper into the woods. The rain continued to fall, trickling down through the branches, but it was slowing. He heard the voice again telling him to continue to not stop that God was with him. One day Patrickius promised himself he would return here and bring the word of God to his former enslavers.
I'm Patrick Weiman. Welcome to Past Lives. Alongside Attila the Hun and the Prophet Muhammad, St. Patrick is probably the single best-known person who lived in the period we call Late Antiquity, spanning the 4th to the 8th century's AD. He was the Apostle of the Irish, a towering figure who converted a formerly pagan people to Christianity. The foundation of the vibrant Christian culture that would eventually reach far beyond that small island. He also drove out the snakes if the legends are to be believed. For most, that's precisely what Patrick is, a legend who barely even belongs in a past world that actually existed. But St. Patrick, Patrickius, was a real person, and the world he lived in was very real. He was born and grew up somewhere in Western Britain while the Roman Empire fell apart. At some point Raiders from Ireland captured him, took him across the Irish Sea, and enslaved him for a period of six years. Eventually he escaped back to Britain, became a bishop, and then returned to Ireland to convert his former enslavers to Christianity.
Inslavement was a central experience in St. Patrick's life. It made him who he was and set him on a course to everlasting fame. We know all of this not only because of the many later stories and traditions that circulated about St. Patrick and his actions, but because he himself wrote about them. Patrick is almost unique in that he is one of the very few people in the ancient world who left any firsthand account of their experience of being enslaved. His confession, a defense of his actions and his past written amid some indecisurable church controversy, lays out his version of his life story. He also wrote a second surviving text, letter to the soldiers of Caroticus, in which he upgrades and excommunicates a British warlord, whose Christian soldiers abducted and enslaved some of Patrick's Christian converts in Ireland. I care a great deal about St. Patrick. He's my namesake for one, and I remember my extremely Irish-American Catholic grandfather whose own father was named Patrick, telling me stories about him when I was little. I lived in Ireland for two years, and it was an incredibly formative place and time
for me. Beyond that, St. Patrick inhabited a world in which I've spent a lot of my professional time over the past twenty years, the waning days of the Roman Empire in the West. Whatever else he was or became, however later generations remembered him and used his memory, St. Patrick was first and foremost a product of the late Roman Empire. In today's episode, we seek to understand Patrick in this context, a very real and increasingly well-understood world, with the years he was enslaved serving as the defining period of his life. While Patrick eventually became the legend that we know today, that's not what makes him interesting to us here on past lives. Instead, it's the fact that much of his life echoed broader patterns that we rarely see illuminated in such depth. St. Patrick may have been one of history's great men, but Patrick used the slave was not. A quick note here, for this episode I'm relying a great deal on a recent book by the scholar Roy Fleckner entitled St. Patrick Re told. It's an excellent overview and it's well worth reading, but there are a few key points
I disagree with the author on which I'll discuss further in a moment. Patrick was born somewhere in Western Britain in the late fourth or early fifth century AD. We don't know precisely when, because Patrick's own writings give us almost no temporal markers to work with. At one point he refers to the Franks of Gaul as a pagan people, which tells us he lived before the year 500 or so. Later writings give us two dates of death for him, 457 and 493 AD, with most scholars preferring the latter. Roy Fleckner argues that Patrick lived even earlier than the mid-fifth century AD, placing his key actions in the late fourth century, but I disagree with that. Because reasoning rests on the idea that Romanness was well and truly dead in Britain by the dates traditionally associated with Patrick's life. I just don't think we can say that with any confidence. We have practically no surviving texts from Britain in that period, and reading identity through archaeology as a tricky business. Archaeologically, the material markers of Rome were disappearing from Britain over the course of the fifth century, but we have no idea how people thought of themselves or
what languages they spoke on a day-to-day basis. But we do know Patrick was a Roman, or had at the very least grown up in a world of Romans. He wrote in Latin, and his language makes it obvious that he had received some of the standard Roman education. He tells us that his father was a de Courier, a member of a city council with administrative responsibilities. At the very beginning of his letter to the soldiers of Caroticus, he says, quote, I live among barbarian peoples and exile on account of the love of God. Some have suggested that by barbarians, he means non-Christians, and I don't think that's right. He distinguishes explicitly between Christians and pagans elsewhere and doesn't use Roman as a synonym for Christian at any point. For Patrick, like many other Latin authors of the fifth century, and I've read nearly all of them, the counterpoint to barbarians wasn't Christians, but Romans. Patrick is telling us implicitly on which side of that divide he belongs. His Britain sat at the very edges of the Roman world, but it was still recognizably part of that Roman world, even at this late date.
Britain had been a Roman province for more than 300 years by the time Patrick was born. Conquered by the Romans piece by piece in the years after the Emperor Claudius' invasion in 43 AD, Britain held a claim, a good one, to being the empire's most distant outpost. In both space and thought, Britain was further from the Mediterranean heart of the empire than all of the outposts dotting the edge of the Sahara are looking up at the peaks of the Caucasus Mountains. Despite that distance, by the time of Patrick's birth, Britain was as Roman as anywhere in the empire. Now, what does that mean exactly? The late Roman empire into which Patrick was born wasn't a homogenous place. Dozens of languages were spoken inside its frontiers, from Syriac and Greek to Frankish and Galish. Wheat, olives, and grapes were the empire's holy trifective, Mediterranean foodstuffs, but olives and grapes didn't grow through much of its territory. People continued to eat the same kinds of foods as they had before the Romans arrived, with a few additions. Local gods stuck around, either on their own or assimilated with Roman deities.
The aristocrats, filling town councils, and later acting as bishops were almost certainly descended, at least in part, from the people who had been powerful in those regions prior to conquest. Decades of recent research have made it clear that even after centuries of Roman rule, there was no evenly distributed process of Romanization. There were shepherds in the Balkans, speaking Elyrian, and farmers and whales conversing in British Celtic, living in ways that differed little from those of their ancestors before Roman armies arrived. In a state with tens of millions of inhabitants, diversity was the rule by necessity. Despite all that variety, there were plenty of commonalities between subjects of the empire, some cultural and some material. Latin was spoken pretty much everywhere by the late fourth century, from the Adriatic to Hadrian's Wall and the Sahara to the Rhine, where common folk continued to use other tongues, they were often bilingual, using their native language at home and Latin in the marketplace. Latin was spoken so widely that it had distinctive regional varieties and accents. A well-traveled individual could distinguish a native of Roman Britain, from a person raised
in Italy or North Africa, purely by their speech. Still, those regional varieties were mutually intelligible, probably more so than English as it's spoken around the world today. Roman was the language of administration in the army, so when citizens interacted with the state, they did so through Latin. On a deeper level, when asked, practically every free person living in the Roman Empire, no matter what they spoke at home or where they lived, would identify themselves as a Roman. That was true throughout the Greek-speaking east, in the venerable and still enormous city of Rome, and in the reigned wrenched hills facing the Irish Sea, where St. Patrick was born and raised. There were plenty of divisions within Roman society, particularly based on wealth and whether a person held office or not, and there were many different forms of identity. But nearly every free person would, on some level, have considered themselves to be Roman. When Patrick refers to himself as the son of a decorian, he's telling his readers precisely where he belonged in the Roman social hierarchy.
Cities were the place's most tied to long-distance trade and migration networks, the most important nodes in the economic and political systems keeping the Roman world alive. Rome, Carthage, Milan, Trier, Arro, Taragona, and dozens of others were the lynched pins of Romanness. They were the settlements most likely to have huge quantities of Roman coins and pottery to be built along the standardized grid patterns the Romans preferred, and to show evidence of Roman religious cults and cultural practices like inscriptions. New ways of speaking, like accents and slang, tended to start in cities and to jump between them rather than slowly seeping into the countryside. We could pick up Londonium in the middle of the 4th century AD and put it on the sane or the ebbro and it wouldn't have been out of place. The further one traveled from the cities, the more things were made and consumed locally. Old pre-Roman methods of production stuck around either because there was no need for them to change, or the locals liked doing things a little bit differently than elsewhere. People didn't change how they made and decorated pottery or their clothing styles just
because they were now ruled by Roman officials. They didn't immediately start planting vines just because Roman soldiers had come through a few times. It's more like Roman material culture was another layer of stuff superimposed onto people's lives, which over time melted with the old into something new. This happened at the local village level, within cities and across the region, with all of them differing in some small way from their neighbors. Mass-produced Roman pottery, roof tiles, coins, and metalwork could be found everywhere, the Roman world was kind of like IKEA in that sense, but not at every site or every time. One villa might have had a yen for fancy but widely distributed fineware, another splurged on fancy mosaic tiles from a distant workshop that used mostly local pottery, while at a third, the owner might have a habit of importing M4I of fine wine to impress his neighbors. There were many different ways of being Roman and just as many ways to use objects produced in the empire to display status and identity. That was the world into which St. Patrick was born, but that world was crumbling and
nowhere more so than in Britain. Only the northernmost parts of Gaul, what is present at Belgium in the low countries, experienced a faster and more complete devolution. Patrick belongs to the last generation in Britain that would grow up with memories of town councils and deliveries of mass produced trade goods. And unlike many people who lived through what we call the fall of the Roman Empire, he didn't experience it as a long, quiet transformation. He was quite literally ripped away from that world and made a slave. While we can't pinpoint the exact dates of St. Patrick's life, it's not actually that important because we have almost no knowledge of specific events in Britain during the 5th century AD. We're not just ignorant of the years in which things took place, we don't even know exactly what took place. There are no comprehensive narrative histories telling us who did what, who ruled in particular
regions, where battles took place or between which forces, much less what people made of the massive upheavals shaping and reshaping their lives. What we have are impressions, vibes for lack of a better word, from the very few textual sources available to us and from the immense amount of archaeological material left behind. The physical evidence of this period tells a stark story. In 350 AD, roughly the year we would assume St. Patrick's father was born, Britain was as Roman as anywhere in the Roman Empire. By the time Patrick died, probably some time in the second half of the 5th century, Britain was completely transformed. Cities like Londonium and Eboracum, York, emptied of people. The market towns scattered across the countryside of Lohland Britain were abandoned. The army, the most visible symbol of Roman rule and an essential driver of economic activity, either withdrew from the island completely or stuck around and became local warlords. Coins stopped arriving when the army stopped getting paid so the economy reverted to barter. Defined villas of the Romano-British aristocracy often remained occupied, but their heated
baths and mosaic floors fell into disrepair. Anglo-Saxon migrants from the continent's North Sea coast began settling in the Lohlands of Eastern Britain. Within a couple of centuries, English would be the predominant language in that part of the country, which was well on its way to becoming England. Patrick didn't experience the arrival of the Anglo-Saxon's first hand since he lived in the West, but the breakdown of Roman authority was no less noticeable in his part of the island. Picked from north of Hadrian's wall and Irish raiders from across the narrow sea attacked formerly safe areas like Patrick's home, while local strongmen stepped into the power vacuum left by the departing army and disappearing officials. There are some indications that life was becoming more violent. One study found four times as many identifiable injuries from edged weapons on skeletons in the post-Roman period compared to the era of Roman rule. The canonical date for the army's exit from Britain is 410 AD, but units had been peeling off for decades before that, and scattered remnants stuck around afterward, sometimes in the same forts legionaries had been occupying for centuries.
Hitler tells us he grew up in a place called Banauwem Taburni, which has never been positively identified. The most likely candidates are clustered around the city of Carlisle in Cumbria, which marked the western end of Hadrian's wall. This was one of the most remote parts of the Roman Empire, quite literally within sight of territory where Roman officials held no sway. Yet Patrick's father was a member of a town council, a decorian, a rank that could be found anywhere west of the Adriatic. He received at least part of the traditional education most well-off Roman boys received, something we can discern from the sprinklings of quotations from classical texts everyone read. But the best proof of Patrick's Romanus is in the way he writes, how he assembles sentences in Latin, the words he chooses, the persuasive style he utilizes, and a thousand other details that aren't visible when reading his writings in translation. Scholars have agreed for a long time that Patrick's Latin is a bit strange. He wasn't a native speaker, must say, in some of his weirder word choices, spellings, and sentence structures must therefore have been due to interference from his native,
presumably British Celtic language. But while Patrick certainly spoke British Celtic, that's not actually the case here. Way back when I was doing my master's degree, I got very into late Latin. Not the literary style that aristocrats and bishops used to show how learned they were, but the meat and potatoes Latin, spoken and written, that residents of the later Roman empire used on an everyday basis. Late Latin was well on its way to becoming the Roman's languages, we know from the Middle Ages and beyond, and its non-literary and spoken forms had diverged a great deal from the ornate, almost impenetrable style favored by pretentious elites. Now, I'm not going to give you a tedious rundown of the sociolinguistics of late Latin, or to my own horn too much, but practically none of the scholars who have studied Patrick's writing know much less sight this material. Had the Anglo-Saxons not migrated in such substantial numbers, or if Roman rule had lasted a little while longer, Britain may well have produced its own romance language, as Africa was on its way to doing before the Arab conquest.
Patrick makes much more sense viewed this way than as a half-competent Latin-styleist. There's no actual evidence of what we call bilingual interference in his Latin, there's no identifiable sign that he was a native British speaker whose first language seeped into the way he wrote. The peculiarities in his language are not the kinds of mistakes that second language learners tend to make. In fact, its peculiar qualities are all standard for Latin speakers who hadn't been steeped in Latin literary culture. People who, for example, were enslaved in their teen years, missed the final stages of their education, and returned to a place where that education no longer existed. That was St. Patrick. Growing up somewhere around the northernmost edge of the Roman Empire, speaking a regional variety of Latin that would have made him understood everywhere from Carthage to Trier to Taragona, his life straddled the end of one world and the beginning of another. In recent decades, scholars have stressed the slow, often barely noticeable aspects of that shift, calling it a transformation instead of a fall.
In Britain, however, the word fall makes perfect sense. The lives of real people, people like Patrick, were shaped in enormous ways by the disappearance of the state that had formerly governed them. Inslavement defined Patrick's life. As he tells the story in his confession, he was abducted from his home along with thousands of others when he was 16 years old and taken across the sea to Ireland. His journey didn't end at Ireland's eastern shore. From there, he was taken to the far northwest of Ireland, present-day county Mayo, near the open waters of the North Atlantic. For the next six years, he says, his life consisted of tending sheep as an enslaved shepherd. It was during his captivity that he experienced a religious conversion. His father had been a deacon. Patrick was nominally Christian at the very least, but he hadn't really believed before this. On his own, in a foreign land, with seemingly no chance of escape or freedom, Patrick found solace in the one place he still could. In prayer, building a relationship with a god who had previously been only a distant force in his life.
One night after six years of captivity, Patrick dreamed of voice, told him his ship was being prepared to take him back across the sea to Britain. When he was compelled, he ran away, traveling some 200 Roman miles across Ireland, until he found the promised ship. More trials and tribulations followed, but Patrick eventually returned to his family and resumed his life. But now he had a mission. He determined that he would one day return to Ireland, and convert the people who enslaved him to Christianity. This is where the story of Patrikius, a Roman teenager, ends, and the legend of St. Patrick begins. There are all sorts of issues with the internal coherence of Patrick's autobiography, and so little to work with that practically every detail has been called into question in the years since he wrote it. How long he was in Ireland and where he was held, whether he was freed or ran away, how he managed to convince a ship full of sailors to take him across the sea to Britain, and even whether he was actually enslaved, or was instead running away from his inherited responsibilities as a Roman official, a common late Roman phenomenon called Curial Flight.
Now, I'm not casting aspersions on the scholars who have questioned Patrick's narrative. It's pretty clear that my namesake was playing fast and loose with the facts in his writing, but there's nothing actually implausible about the basic outline he gives us. Slave trading across the Irish sea had been going on for centuries, probably even before the Romans arrived in Britain. There were petty kings in Eastern Ireland, capable of assembling military forces large enough to grab hundreds or even thousands of captives at a time, and in these misty decades, somewhere between the 390s and the 450s, the Roman army that would have served as a powerful deterrent to large-scale raiding in northwest Britain was either crumbling or gone. Had he lived along Britain's southeastern coast, Patrick might have been taken by Saxons across the North Sea to the continent. Had he lived in the northeast, he might have been taken north to present a Scotland by Picts. Had he lived in the southwest, he might have been taken by local British-speaking warlords. Because of where he lived, it was Irish raiders who got him. But Patrick experienced, being abducted and enslaved, was a much more common experience
in the Britain of his time than it had been in his fathers or grandfathers. Patrick had grown up with slaves. He tells us that his father's estate, he calls it a Velulah, a little villa, housed both male and female slaves who were captured by the Irish along with him. Late Roman slavery had changed a bit since the time of Crixus, Erisaki's Bakers, and Little Abbas, but it was still slavery in every way that mattered. Patrick saw his enslavement as an unfortunate occurrence, a punishment for his and his neighbors' sins, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about being enslaved. Slavery and Ireland functioned a bit differently than it did in other times and places. It was more akin to the general and less intense unfreedom of later medieval Serfdom, though it was still operated on the principles of people as property, and Patrick never drew any distinctions between the two. Not that his experiences gave Patrick any sort of fundamental opposition to slavery as an institution, even once he returned to Ireland on his mission of conversion. His letter to the soldiers of Caroticus takes issue not with slave raiding or slavery as
a whole, but with the fact that Caroticus's men were targeting Patrick's Christian converts in Ireland. It was unseemly for Christians to enslave free Christians, and one gets the sense that Patrick was angriest of all that his authority and prestige were being damaged by Caroticus's actions. Yet slavery nevertheless had a profound impact on Patrick's way of thinking about the world, and especially on his faith in God. Patrick was far from the only late Roman author to use slavery as a metaphor for the relationship between the human and the divine, the parable of the faithful servant from the gospel of Matthew left a particularly outsized impression. For example, the church father St. Jerome writes of Paul, quote, "...the apostle who is not a slave to sin is rightly called the slave of God the Father and Christ." Yet despite its commonality in the works of other authors, the extent to which that metaphor specifically dominates Patrick's thinking is remarkable. He doesn't just reach for the illusions to support his arguments, they effectively structure the way he tells his life story, being led away into slavery parallels his journey
from lacking faith, being a slave to sin in Jerome's terms, to becoming a dedicated servant of God. We can read Patrick's life in all sorts of different ways. He was clearly a complex figure for his contemporaries. His fellow bishops and church officials weren't altogether fond of him, hence the need for Patrick to write his confession as a form of self-defense. He's even more complicated for us today, as we tried to disentangle the real person, as well as historical fact from the legend. But he was indeed a real person, one who sheds a great deal of light on both a dying world and how enslavement could shape a person's life. And that far more than his missionary activity or his later fame, Patrick is unique in the ancient world. Next time on past lives, we're going to jump forward into the Middle Ages, but probably not to a place you visited before. The shores of the Black Sea during the age of Mongol conquest, where a boy named Bibars
watched his parents die before he was sold into slavery. Through a twist of fate, Bibars became one of the most powerful people in the world, the ruler of Mamluk Egypt. Thanks so much for joining me, and I look forward to chatting with you again. If you haven't already, please subscribe to our Patreon, linked in the description. It's only 7 bucks a month, and you get access to tons of bonus content, like interviews with great scholars, Q&As with me, and much more. You can follow me on Instagram at Weiman underscore Patrick or on Blue Sky at Patrick Weiman. Past lives is a 100% independent production, and your support is what allows us to make this show. So, thank you. Past lives is written and narrated by me, Patrick Weiman. The producer is Morgan Jaffe. The music and sound design is by Gabriel Gould. The story editor is Rachel Camboury. Until next time, this has been Past Lives.
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