Author: Duncan MacDonald
Category: Cook books
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Culann walked around the Whitby buildings after dark, looking for any sign of his young student Fergus, whom he felt sure would try to attend the meetings. He found nothing and retired for the night.
Next morning the great hall was filled to capacity. Abbot Colmán and his entourage sat alongside Bishop Agilberht and his Roman party immediately in front of King Oswy who sat on a simple wooden chair. Albeit a rather large wooden chair, on a raised dais at the head of the hall.
Culann sat at the rear of the hall, near one of the doors. He felt more comfortable there as he could add nothing to the debate that was about to commence. Plus, he could more easily check what was going on outside.
After prayers were said, King Oswy rose and address the assembly. "Brothers of the faith, thank you for coming to this ordained gathering. We are here to determine once and for all the true date for celebrating our most holiest festival, the resurrection of our beloved savior, the Lord Christ. We have leaders of the Celtic Church in Iona and Lindisfarne" indicating Abbot Colmán "and representatives from Rome and Canterbury." indicating Bishop Agilberht. "Bishop Cedd will act as interpreter. I will now call on our friend Abbot Colmán to deliver his address." Oswy resumed his seat.
Abbot Colmán rose, bowed to the King and moved to one side to address the assembly. At the back of the hall Culann heard the distant sounds of a disturbance and quietly rose and slipped out the door.
All eyes were on Abbot Colmán as he began to speak. "The Easter which I keep I receive from my elders. All our forefathers, men beloved of God, are known to have kept it in the same manner. This should not be seen to be contemptible, or worthy to be rejected. It is the same which the Apostle John the Evangelist, the disciple beloved by our Lord, with all the churches he presided, is recorded to have observed."
Bishop Cedd summarized [translating into what we would now call ‘Old English’] for the gathering. "Abbot Colmán has stated the Celtic church's method for calculating Easter can be traced back to the Apostle John, at the very beginning of Christianity."
"Thank you Abbot Colmán." said King Oswy "I understand the Roman position is led by Bishop Agilberht of the West Saxons. However, Agilberht requested Wilfred, Abbot of Ripon be allowed to give arguments in his stead, since he is more at ease with the local language. If you please Abbot Wilfred."
(Wilfred was a Northumbrian monk. Trained first by Irish monks at Lindisfarne and later in Rome. Upon his return to Britain he became the spokesman for the 'Roman' side at the Synod of Whitby. Soon after he was appointed bishop of Northumbria. A controversial figure, renowned for his love of luxury and opulent lifestyle, he was expelled from his see, and appealed to Rome. He was reinstated.
After a later second expulsion and appeal to Rome he was eventually reinstated as bishop of Hexham. He died in 709)
[The Life of Wilfred, written by little known priest Eddius Stephanus, between 710 & 720. Stephanus knew Wilfred well and travelled with him to Rome]
Wilfred was much younger than Abbot Colmán. He had recently returned from a pilgrimage to Rome where he possibly learnt some of the stagecraft he now put into effect.
Instead of standing in one place as was the wont of speakers, Wilfred moved around the front of the audience. He waved his hands, stood for long moments in silence to reinforce a point and raised and lowered his voice for effect.
"Your Majesty, Brothers in Christ, fellow Christians. I stand humbly before you to enlighten you on the correct method of calculating Easter. Abbot Colmán states that the Celtic church follows the calculations of Apostle John.
“Well and good, but the tradition of the Catholic Church of Rome had been handed down from both the blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, who lived, taught, suffered and were buried . . . long pause . . . in Rome."
"The Apostle Peter taught us that Easter should be celebrated on the Lord's Day (Sunday) following the rising of the moon on the fourteenth day, since the Lord rose from the dead on the first day of the week."
[The First Council of Nicaea (AD 325) established the date of Easter as the first Sunday after the full moon following the northern hemisphere's vernal equinox. Ecclesiastically, the equinox is reckoned to be on March 21 (regardless of the astronomically correct date), and the "Full Moon" is not necessarily the astronomically correct date. The date of Easter therefore varies between March 22 and April 25]
"When I travelled through the countries of Tuscany, Lombard, the Empire of the Franks, Aquitania and Burgundy for pilgrimage and prayer, I found Easter celebrated at one and the same time. Also in Africa, Asia, Greece, Egypt and all the world, wherever the church of Christ is spread abroad, through the various nations and tongues, all use the same date."
Here a long dramatic pause. "Except of course, amongst the Britons and Picts. In their obstinacy, foolishly, in these two remote islands of the world, and only in part even of them, oppose all the rest of the universe."
The King asked Abbot Colmán to reply. "My Brothers, I appeal to you to observe the pattern set down by both Saint Anatolius of Alexandria and Saint Columba of Iona. Both were revered as servants of the Lord. Both celebrated Easter in the Celtic manner. How could such holy men, used by the Lord, have been so wrong in this matter?"
Wilfred sprang to his feet "I am not persuaded by this argument Brothers, and nor should you be. Abbot Colmán and the Celts have simply misunderstood and incorrectly followed the practice of Anatolius.
“Further I suggest Columba was either not a Christian (who will find himself rejected on the final day of judgment) or one who can be excused because of 'rude simplicity'. Wrong practice in ignorance is acceptable, but rejection of the correct teaching - which I am now offering you - would be unacceptable on judgment day."
Loud murmurings of discontent were coming from the Celtic camp.
It is here that Wilfred plays his trump card "Do you think that your small number, in a corner of the remotest island, is to be preferred before the universal Church of Christ throughout the world?
"And though that Columba of yours was a holy man and powerful in miracles, yet should he be preferred before the most blessed prince of apostles to whom our Lord said 'Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give up to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven.' "
Stunned silence greeted this enunciation by Wilfred.
Finally, the King asked "Is it true Colmán, that these words were spoken to Peter by our Lord?"
"It is true O King." confirmed Abbot Colmán.
"Can you give me any such power by your Columba?"
"None."
King Oswy then address both Colmán and Wilfred "Do both of you agree that we were principally directed to Peter and that the keys of heaven were given to him by our Lord?"
Both answered "We do."
The King then concluded "I say unto you all, that he is the doorkeeper, whom I will not contradict, but will, as far as I know and am able in all things obey his decrees, lest when I come to the gates of the kingdom of heaven, there shall be none to open them, he being my adversary, who is proved to have the keys."
[Life of Wilfred, Bede, later Edius Stephanus, between AD 710 & 720, The Age of Bede, Translated by J.F. Webb, Penguin Books, London, 1965]
Thus it came to pass that all present, both great and small were asked to give their assent and confirm to the teachings of the Roman church in all matters.
Abbot Colmán sat stunned at the outcome, as were most of his followers. They rose unsteady and slowly made their way out of the hall only to be confronted by another, albeit less world shattering, event.
Culann, surrounded by twenty warriors with spears, was holding, what transpired to be an Angle troop leader, in an iron grip, with a knife at the hapless man's throat.
* * * *
When Culann slipped out of the meeting hall he moved toward the commotion he had heard. At the opposite side of the main compound facing
the meeting hall, a crowd had gathered amid much shouting. A group of soldiers with spears were holding someone on the ground, who was struggling violently. A collection of local monks and townsfolk had gathered around, all peering to see what was happening.
Culann pushed through the crowd and in a commanding voice said "Let him up."
The troop leader of the guards turned, and hands on hips looked Culann up and down. "Well if we haven't got one of those Celtic piss-ant priests telling us what to do."
"Let him up - please." the last word emphasized menacingly.
The troop leader laughed. "I don't take orders from the likes of you with no balls. Run away and pray to your god." He turned away as some of his troop continued dragging the struggling figure toward the nearest building.
In a cream-colored blur the Irish monk shouldered three soldiers to the ground, roughly grabbed the troop leader across the chest, and within the blink of an eye had his back against the wooden building - the troop leader now held securely in front with a knife at his neck.
The crowd was shocked into silence. The only sound now being the high pitched mewing of the hapless troop leader, his head bent back almost double with the knife now just under his ear, beginning to draw blood.
Ice cold now, Culann hissed "Let the boy go."
The confused soldiers released the still struggling bundle on the ground. Fergus bounded to his feet shaking his hair and disheveled clothes, took in the scene in an instant and strode quickly to Culann's side. Looking down he drew the sword of the troop leader and faced the mob. "I could have handled this you know." wiping blood from his mouth "What do we do next?"
"We wait."
The noise level increased as the crowd numbers grew. More soldiers arrived and formed a semi-circle around Culann and Fergus, lances at the ready.
Pushing through the throng emerged the Captain of the Guard, red faced accompanied by more soldiers. "What the devil is going on here?" he shouted seeing his troop leader now blubbering as not only blood trickled down his neck, but an ominous dark stain spread down his pants from his groin.
The Captain marched toward Culann shouting "I demand you let that man go!" Culann stared back, said nothing but tightened his hold on the hapless soldier who let out a high pitched keening.
The Captain of the Guards stepped back, unsure what to do next. The crowd it seemed, did not favor the soldiers, and started murmuring ominously, some even yelling encouragement to the two men facing off the Anglo soldiers. "Let them go." "Good on you Brother."
The stand-off was brought to an end as a solidly built woman with short grey hair in a nun’s habit, burst through the throng. Eyes flashing, she sized up the situation and pointing directly at the Captain of the Guards commanded "You - take your men and leave - now!"
"But, but he has assaulted one of my men" spluttered the Captain waving his arms.
"I don't care what he has done. This is my monastery and you are on consecrated land. Leave now, or I will damn your soul in hell and have King Oswy nail you and your heathen soldiers to yonder tree." One hand on a hip and the other still with finger pointing threateningly at the hapless Captain.
Into this throng stepped the group of monks emerging from the meeting hall, including Abbot Colmán, Brother Bryan and the collective monks from Lindisfarne.
"Brother Culann!" blurted Bryan, startled.
"Is he one of your group?" asked Abbot Colmán looking around at Bryan, then noticing for the first time the grey haired nun at the centre of the throng. "I beg your pardon, Mother Superior Hilda."
"Ah, Colmán of Lindisfarne." replied the nun regarding the newly arrived group. "I take it this rascal" nodding at Culann "is one of yours."
"Well yes, I mean he's from Iona. But he came with us, yes."
"Well young man," nodding toward Culann" I suggest you turn loose that poor excuse of a man and put your knife away. And you young Pict, sheath that sword. It's too big for you anyway."
"Come, this is no place to converse." indicating the still curious crowd of monks and townsfolk - the soldiers having quietly disappeared. "We will go to my quarters."
The Abbess of Whitby led the way, followed by the monks from Lindisfarne, and Fergus, who had stuffed the sword into his belt.
* * * *
They settled into the small room dominated by Hilda's desk. Some of her staff were briefing her quietly. After a few minutes she nodded solemnly, waved them away and turned to her guests.
"Now please explain what in the world is going on here." looking first at Culann then Abbot Colmán. "This has been a momentous day for all of us. The last thing I need is an altercation with the soldiers who belong to the Kings son, Alhfrith, particularly as he is no friend of the Celts nor," looking now at Fergus "the Picti."
One of the Lindisfarne monks suddenly pointed at Fergus "I know you lad; you're one of the students from Lindisfarne."
Another spoke up "No, you are the person paddling that curach behind us, down to Whitby." Fergus sat back smiling, happy at being the centre of attention.
"You are right on both counts Brothers.” said Culann. "This is Fergus mac Ciniod of the Fortriu. He has been a student at Lindisfarne for the past three years, and he paddled all the way from Lindisfarne to be here. He is under my protection"
"What are you doing here lad?" queried Abbot Colmán "And why were you fighting with the King's soldiers Brother Culann?"
"I came here to witness the Synod of Whitby on behalf of my clan, many of whom worship at St Ninian's. I was attacked by those soldiers for no reason what-ever. I tried to explain I came here to witness, but they either didn't understand me or more to the point, I think they don't like Picti."
“And I don’t like armed men attacking innocent unarmed young boys.” Said Culann with a straight face.
Abbess Hilda sat back with a slight smile. “Well I admire your courage young Fergus, sailing all the way from Lindisfarne. However, I question your tactics, taking on the entire Angle military establishment, sent here by Prince Alhfrith.
“And as for you my Celtic warrior monk from Iona,” nodding to Culann “you are safe enough in my monastery, but I fear you have made some serious enemies who, I understand, will be waiting for you to leave. What are we to do with you.” A statement, rather than a question.
“Can’t they leave with us?” Asked Abbot Colmán.
“Abbot Colmán, I have a special feeling in my heart for Lindisfarne. I was recruited by your beloved founder, St Aidan, to begin life as a nun, here in Northumbria. While I will obey the ruling today of King Oswy, I will do everything in my power to protect you and your followers.
“I will tell you, the King’s son Alhfrith is not a nice person. He commands many of the Angle soldiers. He is a Christian, but follows the Roman church, as does his mother the Queen. He hates the Celtic church and all it stands for. But if there is anything he hates more it’s the Picti. I think he is evil.
"Brother Culann and young Fergus, we have a problem. Any suggestions?” Not for nothing was Abbess Hilda held in high regard as an advisor to kings, nobles and peasants. Inside that compassionate face she showed to the world, was a lady of steel.
“Surely Alhfrith would not dare touch anyone under the protection of Lindisfarne.” Said Abbot Colmán.
“Not directly.” Replied Hilda. “He would no doubt send some of his heathen soldiers to do what was necessary, and then deny all knowledge of any wrong doing.”
“We will leave separately from the main group. At night.” Said Culann.
“That may work.” Said Hilda thoughtfully “We may have to create a diversion though.”
“How will you get back to Lindisfarne Brother Culann asked Bryan. “It could take weeks through unfriendly territory.”
“We can use my curach. It will take two.” Suggested Fergus excitedly.
“Where is it? Asked Culann.
“It’s hidden.”
“Yes, but where?” Exasperated.
“I can’t tell you. I’ll show you.”
“What if someone has taken it?”
“Then I’ll steal another one.”
“I didn’t hear this conversation.” Said Hilda trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “I suggest you both leave tonight before our friends get too organized. I will hold a communion to celebrate the end of the Synod, and invite everyone.”
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* * * * *
8.1 Return to Lindisfarne
Culann and Fergus paddled all the second day and into the night. They swapped roles of paddling and bailing with the drinking cup.
And so it came to pass, that Culann and Fergus slipped out of Whitby monastery that very evening. At the time, an extremely noisy, all night celebratory party, was held for all participants, by Abbess Hilda.
It was still dark as they scrambled down the cliff face. Fergus paused for a moment to get his bearings, then moved left along the edge of a dense patch of low scrub. Paused again, then pushed in through the tangle of vegetation. Culann waited, impatient. More movement then Fergus emerged shaking his head. "It must be along further."
The sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon but clouds were building in the north. Fergus disappeared for the third time into the thicket. Silence. Then "Ahhh, I told you so" and emerged from the undergrowth pulling what appeared to be a large bundle, swaddled in saplings, rushes, foliage and various pieces of vegetation.
Quickly stripping away the coverings revealed a curach, big enough for - two very small men - at a pinch. "That's not big enough for two of us." said Culann in exasperation.
"Well it's all we've got."
Culann threw his kit bag on the ground in frustration and sat on his haunches. Fergus in a small voice suggested "Why don't we take it down to the beach and see." Culann looked, shrugged his shoulders, rose and said "Why not."
They slipped and slid their way down to the beach, manhandling the curach and their kit bags, which had been filled to capacity by Abbess Hilda's nuns, with foodstuffs and their spare clothes. The curach itself was light enough, made with a wooden frame and covered in cow-skin. It was just awkward to negotiate between the small trees and rocks on the way.