The Sister Fidelma mysteries are set during the mid-seventh century A.D.
Sister Fidelma is not simply a religieuse, formerly a member of the community of St Brigid of Kildare. She is also a qualified
dálaigh,
or advocate of the ancient law courts of Ireland. As this background will not be familiar to many readers, my Historical Note is designed to provide a few essential points of reference to make the stories more readily appreciated.
Ireland, in the seventh century A.D., consisted of five main provincial kingdoms; indeed, the modern Irish word for a province is still
cúige,
literally ‘a fifth’. Four provincial kings – of Ulaidh (Ulster), of Connacht, of Muman (Munster) and of Laigin (Leinster) – gave their qualified allegiance to the
Ard Rí
or High King, who ruled from Tara, in the ‘royal’ fifth province of Midhe (Meath), which means the ‘middle province’. Even among these provincial kingdoms, there was a decentralisation of power to petty-kingdoms and clan territories.
The law of primogeniture, the inheritance by the eldest son or daughter, was an alien concept in Ireland. Kingship, from the lowliest clan chieftain to the High King, was only partially hereditary and mainly electoral. Each ruler had to prove himself or herself worthy of office and was elected by the
derbhfine
of their family – a minimum of three generations from a common ancestor gathered in conclave. If a ruler did not pursue the commonwealth of the people, they were impeached and removed from office. Therefore the monarchical system of ancient Ireland had more in common with a modern-day republic than with the feudal monarchies which had developed in medieval Europe.
Ireland, in the seventh century A.D., was governed by a system of sophisticated laws called the Laws of the
Fénechus
, or land-tillers, which became more popularly known as the Brehon Laws, deriving from the word
breitheamh
– a judge. Tradition has it that these laws were first gathered in 714 B.C. by the order of the High King, Ollamh
Fódhla. But it was in A.D. 438 that the High King, Laoghaire, appointed a commission of nine learned people to study, revise, and commit the laws to the new writing in Latin characters. One of those serving on the commission was Patrick, eventually to become patron saint of Ireland. After three years, the commission produced a written text of the laws, the first known codification.
The first complete surviving texts of the ancient laws of Ireland are preserved in an eleventh-century manuscript book. It was not until the seventeenth century that the English colonial administration in Ireland finally suppressed the use of the Brehon Law system. To even possess a copy of the law books was punishable, often by death or transportation.
The law system was not static, and every three years at the Féis Temhrach (Festival of Tara) the lawyers and administrators gathered to consider and revise the laws in the light of changing society and its needs.
Under these laws, women occupied a unique place. The Irish laws gave more rights and protection to women than any other western law code at that time or since. Women could, and did, aspire to all offices and professions as the co-equal with men. They could be political leaders, command their people in battle as warriors, be physicians, local magistrates, poets, artisans, lawyers and judges. We know the names of many female judges of Fidelma’s period – Brig Briugaid, Aine Ingine Iugaire and Darí among others. Darí, for example, was not only a judge but the author of a noted law text written in the sixth century A.D. Women were protected by the laws against sexual harassment; against discrimination; from rape; they had the right of divorce on equal terms from their husbands, with equitable separation laws, and could demand part of their husband’s property as a divorce settlement; they had the right of inheritance of personal property and the right of sickness benefits when ill or hospitalised. Ancient Ireland had Europe’s oldest recorded system of hospitals. Seen from today’s perspective, the Brehon Laws provided for an almost feminist paradise.
This background, and its strong contrast with Ireland’s neighbours, should be understood to appreciate Fidelma’s role in these stories.
Fidelma was born at Cashel, capital of the kingdom of Muman (Munster) in south-west Ireland, in A.D. 636. She was the youngest daughter of Faílbe Fland, the King, who died the year after her birth. Fidelma was raised under the guidance of a distant cousin, Abbot Laisran of Durrow. When she reached the ‘Age of Choice’ (fourteen years), she went to study at the bardic school of the Brehon Morann
of Tara, as did many other young Irish girls. Eight years of study resulted in Fidelma obtaining the degree of
anruth
, only one degree below the highest offered at either bardic or ecclesiastical universities in ancient Ireland. The highest degree was
ollamh
, which is still the modern Irish word for a professor. Fidelma’s studies were in law, both in the criminal code of the
Senchus
Mór
and the civil code of the
Leabhar
Acaill
. She therefore became a
dálaigh
or advocate of the courts.
Her role could be likened to a modern Scottish sheriff-substitute, whose job is to gather and assess the evidence, independent of the police, to see if there is a case to be answered. The modern French
juge d’instruction
holds a similar role.
In those days, most of the professional or intellectual classes were members of the new Christian religious houses, just as, in previous centuries, all members of professions and intellectuals had been Druids. Fidelma became a member of the religious community of Kildare founded in the late fifth century A.D. by St Brigid.
While the seventh century A.D. was considered part of the European ‘Dark Ages’, for Ireland it was a period of ‘Golden Enlightenment’. Students from every corner of Europe flocked to Irish universities to receive their education, including the sons of the Anglo-Saxon kings. At the great ecclesiastical university of Durrow, at this time, it is recorded that no fewer than eighteen different nations were represented among the students. At the same time, Irish male and female missionaries were setting out to reconvert a pagan Europe to Christianity, establishing churches, monasteries, and centres of learning throughout Europe as far east as Kiev, in the Ukraine; as far north as the Faroes, and as far south as Taranto in southern Italy. Ireland was a byword for literacy and learning.
However, the Celtic Church of Ireland was in constant dispute with Rome on matters of liturgy and ritual. Rome had begun to reform itself in the fourth century, changing its dating of Easter and aspects of its liturgy. The Celtic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church refused to follow Rome, but the Celtic Church was gradually absorbed by Rome between the ninth and eleventh centuries while the Eastern Orthodox Churches have continued to remain independent of Rome. The Celtic Church of Ireland, during Fidelma’s time, was much concerned with this conflict.
One thing that marked both the Celtic Church and Rome in the seventh century was that the concept of celibacy was not universal. While there were always ascetics in the Churches who sublimated physical love in a dedication to the deity, it was not until the Council
of Nicea in A.D. 325 that clerical marriages were condemned but not banned. The concept of celibacy in the Roman Church arose from the customs practised by the pagan priestesses of Vesta and the priests of Diana. By the fifth century, Rome had forbidden clerics from the rank of abbot and bishop to sleep with their wives and, shortly after, even to marry at all. The general clergy were discouraged from marrying by Rome but not forbidden to do so. Indeed, it was not until the reforming papacy of Leo IX (A.D. 1049-1054) that a serious attempt was made to force the Western clergy to accept universal celibacy. In the Eastern Orthodox Church, priests below the rank of abbot and bishop have retained their right to marry until this day.
An understanding of these facts concerning the liberal attitudes towards sexual relationships in the Celtic Church is essential towards understanding the background to this novel.
The condemnation of the ‘sin of the flesh’ remained alien to the Celtic Church for a long time after Rome’s attitude became a dogma. In Fidelma’s world, both sexes inhabited abbeys and monastic foundations, which were known as
conhospitae
, or double houses, where men and women lived raising their children in Christ’s service.
Fidelma’s own house of St Brigid of Kildare was one such community of both sexes during her time. When Brigid established her community at Kildare (Cill-Dara = the church of the oaks) she invited a bishop named Conlaed to join her. Her first biography, completed fifty years after her death, in A.D. 650 during Fidelma’s lifetime, was written by a monk of Kildare named Cogitosus, who makes it clear that it continued to be a mixed community.
It should also be pointed out that, demonstrating women’s co-equal role with men, women were priests of the Celtic Church in this period. Brigid herself was ordained a bishop by Patrick’s nephew, Mel, and her case was not unique. Rome actually wrote a protest, in the sixth century, at the Celtic practice of allowing women to celebrate the divine sacrifice of the Mass.
To help readers locate themselves in Fidelma’s Ireland of the seventh century, where its geo-political divisions will be mainly unfamiliar, I have provided a sketch map and, to help them more readily identify personal names, a list of principal characters is also given.
I have generally refused to use anachronistic place names for obvious reasons although I have bowed to a few modern usages e.g. Tara, rather than
Teamhair
; and Cashel, rather than
Caiseal Muman
; and Armagh in place of
Ard Macha
. However, I have cleaved to
the name of Muman rather than the prolepsis form ‘Munster’ formed when the Norse
stadr
(place) was added to the Irish name Muman in the ninth century A.D. and eventually anglicised. Similarly, I have maintained the original name Laigin, rather than the anglicized form of
Ladghin-stadr
which is now Leinster, and Ulaidh rather than
Ulaidh-stadr
(Ulster). I have decided to use the anglicised versions of Ardmore (
Aird Mhór –
the high point); Moville (
Magh Bhíle –
the plain of Bíle, an ancient god) and Bangor (
Beannchar
– a peaked hill).
In this following tale, set in A.D. 666, Sister Fidelma embarks on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, to the Holy Shrine of St James. Some readers might point out that it was not until A.D. 800 that a Galician monk named Pelayo, guided by the light of the stars (
campus stella
= field of stars), was believed to have discovered a site called
Arcis Marmoricis
where the marble tomb of the saint was found.
James, the son of Zebedee and Maria Salome, and brother of John, was killed in Palestine in A.D. 42, the first apostle to die as a martyr to the new faith. But, according to early Christian tradition, he had already made a missionary journey to the Iberian peninsula and so his followers took the body, placed on a marble bier, on board a ship and sailed for Galicia. The ship came ashore at Padron. When the author and his wife visited this lovely little town, an old man, cleaning the church there, showed them a deep recess under the High Altar. In this recess was an ancient white marble stone marked with Latin letters, which was claimed to be the original stone on which the corpse of St James had been conveyed.
The body was taken to the place which is now Santiago de Compostela (St James of the Field of Stars). Knowledge of the resting place of the
locus apostolicus
became confused with the passing of the centuries and with the schisms within the Christian movement. It seemed that those churches, now retrospectively called the Celtic Church, which clung to the original liturgy and rites of the Christian movement long after the Roman Church had begun to reform its theology and practices, continued to respect Santiago de Compostela as a last resting place of James.
There is nothing anachronistic about a pilgrimage to Santiago by Fidelma. Indeed, we are told in an early Christian text that ten thousand Irish
peregrinatio pro Christo
visited Santiago with the benediction of Patrick himself in the fifth century. The twelfth-century
Liber Sancti Jacobi
(Book of St Jacob) speaks of the long tradition of the pilgrimages and says that the symbol of James, one of the Galilean fishermen, was a scallop shell. Archaeologists have turned up many
scallop shells at Irish sites, mostly buried with corpses at ecclesiastical sites, dating to the medieval period.
Liber Sancti Jacobi
describes stalls selling the scallop shells to pilgrims at Santiago. Today, shops in Santiago still sell scallop-shell
objets d’art.
The author often receives letters from readers wondering if he is simply inventing the social background and technology of Fidelma’s world, and, indeed, one recent reviewer seemed to believe that he was claiming a technology which they felt was beyond Irish capability at that time. It might interest readers to know that the following sources have been drawn on for the background to this particular story:
In this matter of such pilgrimages the author is grateful to ‘The Irish Medieval Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela’ by Dagmar O Riain-Raedal in
History Ireland
, Autumn, 1998.
The author is also grateful to the following for background material: ‘Irish Pioneers in Ocean Navigation of the Middle Ages’ by G.J. Marcus in
Irish Ecclesiastical Record
, November, 1951, and December, 1951; ‘Further Light on Early Irish Navigation’ by G.J. Marcus in
Irish Ecclesiastical Record
, 1954, pp. 93-100; ‘St Brandan (sic) The Navigator’, by Commander Anthony MacDermott RN, KM, in
Mariner’s Mirror
, 1944, pp. 73-80; ‘The Ships of the Veneti’ by Craig Weatherhill in
Cornish Archaeology
No. 24, 1985; ‘Irish Travellers in the Norse World’ by Rosemary Power in
Aspects of Irish Studies
, Ed. Hill & Barber, 1990; and ‘Archaic Navigational Instruments’ by John Moorwood in
Atlantic Visions
, 1989.