C-'VO e.ir THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS library From the collection of James Collins, Drumoondra, Ireland. Purchased, 1918. E7I - 3 M4-7 »*5 Fi'miidintL . oc-.---- ■. • ■ cm J. Doi.lard, Pkinter, 13 & 14 Dame-st., Dublin. CENTRAL CIRCULATION BOOKSTACKS The person charging this material is re¬ sponsible for its return to the library from which it was borrowed on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft/ mutiiatiofi/ and underlining of books ore reasons for disciplinory action and may result in dismissal from the University. TO RENEW CALL TELEPHONE CENTER, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN FEB When renewing by phone, write new due date below previous due date. 78733 L162 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/risefallofirishfOOmeeh THE RISE AND FALL OF THE IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES, and MEMOIES OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY, IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. WITH APPENDICES CONTAINING ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS FROM THE RINUCCINI MANUSCRIPTS, PUBLIC RECORDS, AND ARCHIVES OF THE FRANCISCAN CONVENT, DUBLIN. BY MEEHAN, C.C. |ift| iMtion. DUBLIN: JAMES DUFFY AND SONS, 15, WELLINGTON-QUAY, AND lA, PATEENOSTER-EOYV, LONDON. DUBLIN : Iprinteii bn Inm^s ^oorf, 2, Ceampton-quay. 2il\. i I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO W. H. O’LEAEY, F.E.C.S.L, M.P., ETC., ETC., ETC., WITH AFFECTIONATE REGARD, AND IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF HIS PRE-EMINENT SKILL AND KINDNESS. C. P. M. Dublin, 22nd June, 1877. iA5 r.S aONTENTS. PAGE, Preface . . . ' . . . . . v The Rise and Fall of the Franciscan Monasteries in Ireland: CHAPTER I. The Monastery of Donegal, ...... 1 CHAPTER II. O’Neill’s letter to James I_Carr, earl of Somerset—Camden’s Annals—The Spanish Armada—Lord deputy Fitzwilliam— Archbishop Loftus—Execution of Hugh Gaveloc—Monastery of Adare . . . . . . .17 CHAPTER III. O’Neill and the Bagnals—He marries Mabel—The Monasteries of Drogheda and Dundalk . . . . .26 CHAPTER IV. The Monastery of Multifernan—Origin of the Name—Foundation of the Monastery—The Delamers—The Nugents of Delvin and Donore—The Monastery plundered and burned by the English —The Friars imprisoned in the Castle of Ballimore—Escape of Father Mooney—Cruelties perpetrated on the Prisoners— Richard Brady. Bishop of Kilmore—Re-establishment of the Friars in Multifernan—Notice of distinguished Members of the Community . . . . . . .37 CHAPTER V. Church and Monastery of Kilcrea—Its beautiful Site and Archi¬ tecture—The Tomb of MacCarthy of Muskerry—The Church and Monastery plundered in 1584—Again in 1599—Fathers MacCarthy and O’Sullivan—Church and Monastery of Timo- league—Plundered and damaged by English soldiers, who are cut to j)ieces by O’Sullivan, prince of Bear—Lyons, Protestant Bishop of Cork, dilapidates Timoleague—Persecutes the Catholics . . . . . . .48 CHAPTER VI. Franciscan Convents of Moyne, Rosserick, and Kilconnell . * 55 CONTENTS. PAGE. CHAPTER VII. Franciscan Monasteries of Galway, Rosserilly, Kenalelian, and Creevelea ....... 69 CHAPTER VIII. Monastery of Clonmel . . . . . .81 CHAPTER IX. Convents of Armagh, Baile-an-Chlair, Dublin, Ennis-Cluain-road, Irelagh, Kilcullen, Kilkenny, Limerick, Lisgool, Waterford, Wexford, Wicklow, briefly noticed by Father Mooney, with additional details by the Editor . . . . .87 Memoirs of the Irish Hierarchy in the Seventeenth Century 108 Appendix to the Irish Franciscan Monasteries . ... 267 Appendix to the Memoirs of the Irish Plierarchy . . . 342 Massari’s narrative of Rinuccini’s Journey from Kenmare to Limerick—Latin and Italian . . . . .463 Massacre on Rock of Cashel—Latin . . . . .476 Siege of Roscommon—Latin and English . . . .479 Franciscan Chalices and Inscriptions .... 486 Memoir of O’Shiel ....... 445 ’ PEEFACE TO THE EIETI EDITION. i Ij A F ouKTH Edition of this work having long since gone through the Press, the representatives of my lamented , friend, the late James Duffy, asked me to prepare a Fifth, j' which they determined to bring out on fine paper and in ll clear hold type. I gladly complied with their wish, for in I’ doing so I had opportunity to rectify some errors, and, above all, to introduce many important documents, most of which never before appeared in print. I hope these acces- ' sions will he appreciated by those who take an interest in the ecclesiastical and civil history of Ireland in the ; seventeenth century. A glance at the copious Index will sufiiciently indicate them, and save the trouble of ' adding a single word about their transcendent value. As in duty bound, I offer my heartfelt thanks to the Most Eeverend P. F. Moran, D.D., bishop of Ossory, who kindly placed at my disposal some volumes of his unique copy of the Rmuccini Manuscripts. Many extracts from that great work will be found within these covers. I have IV PREFACE. also to thank J. P. Prendergast, Esq., W. Hennessey, Esq., and the Pev. Luke Carey, O.S.F., for their assistance whenever I required it. Nor should I omit to mention that Father Cooney, Guardian of St. Francis’, in this city, generously allowed me free access to the archives of his convent. Of this and many other favours I will preserve an abiding remembrance. I now present this last edition— emphatically the last, as far as I am concerned—to the Public, hoping they will give it the same patronage they bestowed on its predecessors, and fully persuaded that its intrinsic characteristics will do more for its extensive cir¬ culation than adverse criticism or extravagant eulogy. THE RISE AND FALL OP THE FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. CHAPTER I. THE MONASTERY OF DONEGAL. On the evening of the 16th of August, 1617, two Irish Fran¬ ciscans were seated in the library of the, house which they occupied at Louvain as a temporary domicile for themselves and community, pending the erection of the convent of St. Antony, the first stone of which had been laid a few months before by Albert and Isabella, joint sovereigns of the Nether¬ lands. These two friars, fathers Purcell and Mooney, were both advanced in years; but the latter, though considerably older than his companion, was still hale and vigorous, not¬ withstanding the austerities of cloister life and the hardships of his early career; for in youth he had been a soldier, and served in the army of the great earl of Desmond, till the power of that once mighty palatine was utterly destroyed. Tired of camp life, and hoping to pass the remainder of his days in the calm seclusion of a convent, he ultimately took the habit of St. Francis, and, after due probation and a brief course of studies, was ordained priest, and advanced to various offices in the venerable monastery of Donegal, where he resided till the year 1601. Father Purcell, unlike his colleague, took the habit of St. Francis when he was a mere stripling, and proceeding to Rome, passed the greater part of his life in that city, where his learning, and, above all, his profound knowledge of the classics, placed him on a level with the most erudite of his day. D 2 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE Returning to Ireland, he resided for some time in the convent of St. Francis at Kilkenny, till at length the combined forces of O’Neill and O’Donnell were routed at Kinsale, and he, like most of his brethren, had to fly for shelter and^ protection to Louvain, where the Irish Franciscans met cordial welcome from Albert and Isabella. Indeed, so solicitous were the archdukes —the title by which the joint sovereigns were designated—for the comfort and advancement of the community, that they not only assisted in person and with great pomp at the laying of the first stone of the Louvain monastery, but also bestowed considerable endowments upon it, in order that it might serve as a sanctuary for the persecuted Irish, and a seminary for training of future missionaries. At the period of which we are writing, father Mooney was provincial of the Irish Franciscans, and father Purcell taught rhetoric, philosophy, and theology to the small community, the first of whom had been admitted to the noviciate in the year 1607. Next to his desire of beholding a spacious monastery erected for Irish Franciscans in the old Flemish city, father Mooney had nothing so much at heart as to leave behind him a history of the houses of his own order in Ireland ; but although thoroughly acquainted with the annals that chronicled their foundation, and having been a personal witness of the terrible calamities that befel most of them, he, nevertheless, felt himself incompetent to write anything like a succinct narrative of their rise and fall. A history of the Irish Franciscan monasteries should be written in Latin, and Mooney’s imperfect knowledge of that language deterred him from undeidaking such a task. A man, the greater part of whose early life had been spent among kerne and galloglass, bivouacking in the glens of Ahar- low, driving preys and making fierce inroads on the bawns of the English, when they were wresting the fair valleys of Munster from the followers of Desmond, had little time, and perhaps less inclination, for the study of Thucydides or Tacitus. Nevertheless, from the moment he had renounced spailh and matchlock, and taken the cowl in Donegal, his mind was con¬ stantly set upon his cherished project; and he resolved to collect all available fragments of the history of the Irish Franciscan monasteiies, trusting that he might one day meet some member of his order willing to cast them into a readable and inter¬ esting memoir. This laudable ambition was stimulated by other considera¬ tions. The great families of O’Neill and O’Donnell had long been the benefactors of the Irish Franciscans in Ulster—nay, FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 3 founders of their monasteries, and protectors of their order, at a time when English law proscribed their very existence, and decreed the dissolution of their time-honoured institutions. During the entire of that war which those two princes waged against Elizabeth, and which did not terminate till the disastrous victory of Kinsale, father Mooney passed much of his time in the camps of the chieftains, ministering to the wounded and dying on many a well-fought field, where their valour stemmed for a while the tide of English conquest. In fact, he witnessed all their fitful triumphs on the Blackwater, in Tyrone, as well as in the passes of the Curlew mountains in Connaught; and he finally beheld the French brigantine sailing away from Lough Swilly, freighted with the chief families of the old Celtic nobility, whose banishment and ruin involved that of his entire order. At the time when he conceived the idea of writing a history of the Franciscan monasteries in Ireland, most of those chieftains were lying in their foreign graves—one, the greatest of them all, in Valladolid, and the others in the crypts of the Janiculum at Home : but their representatives were still living on the precarious bounty of the Spanish government, some serving in the armies and fleets of that power, and one in particular—Bernard, youngest son of the great earl of Tyrone— occupying the distinguished place of page in the court of Albert and Isabella at Brussels. Gratitude for benefits conferred on the Irish Franciscans by the ancestors of those fallen chieftains, and the remembrance of the protection which the latter extended to the order during the reign of Elizabeth, were of themselves sufficient^ motives for leaving a lasting record of both —a record, too, which in all likelihood might advance the interests of the exiled nobles in the homes of their adoption, and secure for them the esteem and veneration of their com¬ patriots, should heaven ever restore them to their forfeited domains. Influenced by such motives, father Mooney spent the greater part of the year 1608 visiting the various monasteries of his order in Ireland, collecting, as we have already observed, every waif and stray that related to their early history, carefully treasuring the legends pertaining to each of them, and what is of still greater interest to us, faithfully chronicling the vicissi¬ tudes of those venerable institutions, after the friars—or, as the annalists term them, “the sons of life”—had been obliged to emigrate and seek shelter either in the unfrequented glens of their own land, or in the hospitable asylums which were thrown open to them on the Continent. 4 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE The facts which he had thus gleaned and rescued from oblivion, needed some careful hand to give them shape and order; and to the end that such a work might deserve a place in the library of the Irish convent of St. Antony, at Louvain, then fast ap¬ proaching completion, father Purcell undertook the task of digesting the valuable papers which were committed to his charge, and translating them into Latin. On the evening we have already named, the two friars were seated together, poring over the pages which father Purcell had just then completed; and no sooner did Mooney’s clear grey eye light on the word “ Donegal,” than the tears streamed hot and fast down his chan¬ nelled cheeks, and then, after a moment’s pause, he turned to his companion, and said : “ Dear brother, read for me the history of that monastery I loved so well—aye, and that I love still, though it is now a lonely, rifted ruin. From time to time you must refresh my memory out of the pages which owe so much to your graceful Latinity; but mind that you read slowly, for I am growing dull, and without that Italian pronunciation, to which these aged ears are but ill-accustomed.” Father Purcell crossed his arms on his breast, bowed reve¬ rently to his superior, and then opening the volume at the place indicated, read in the original Latin, of which we give a faithful paraphrase, the following history of the monastery of Donegal: It was in the year 1474, when the Franciscans were holding a provincial chapter in the monastery of Poss-Pial, that Puala O’Connor, daughter of O’Connor Faily, one of the most power¬ ful of the Leinster princes, and wife of Hugh Poe O’Donnell, came, accompanied by a brilliant following of noble ladies, and a goodly escort of kerne and galloglass, to present an humble memorial to the assembled fathers. When the latter had duly considered the prayer of the lady Huala’s memorial, they deputed the provincial to inform her that they could not comply with her request at that moment, but that at some future time they would cheerfully send a colony of Franciscans to the prin¬ cipality of Tirconnell. “What!” replied the Princess, sorely pained by the refusal, “ I have journeyed a hundred miles to attain the object that has long been dearest to my heart, and will you now venture to deny my prayer'? If you do, beware of God’s wrath; for I will appeal to his throne, and charge you with the loss of all ^the souls which your reluctance may cause to perish in the territory of Tirconnell 1” Earnest and energetic was the lady’s pleading; so much so, that she ulti¬ mately overcame the hesitation of the friars, some of whom professed themselves ready to accompany her to Tirconnell. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. Proud of her success, the lady Nuala then set out on her journey homewards, follo^^ed by a goodly number of Franciscans, who, when they arrived in the barony of Tir-Hugh, immediately commenced building the far-famed monastery at the head of the lovely bay of Donegal. The site, indeed, was happily chosen, and nothing could surpass the beauty of the prospect which it commanded. Hard by the windows of the refectory was the wharf, where foreign ships took in their cargoes of liides, fish, wool, linen cloth, and falding; and there, too, came the galleons of Spain, laden with wine and arms, in exchange for the mer¬ chandize which the lords of Tirconnell sent annually to the Brabant marts, then the great emporiums for the north of Europe. In sooth it was a lovely spot, and sweetly suggestive of holy meditations. In the calm days of summer, when the broad expanse of the estuary lay still and unruffled, mirroring in its blue depths the over canopying heaven, was it not a fair image of the unbroken tranquillity and peace to which the hearts of the recluses aspired] And in the gloomy winter nights, when the great crested waves rolled in majestic fury against the granitic headlands, would not the driving storm, wi'eck, and unavailing cry of drowning mariners remind the inmate of that monastery that he had chosen the safer part, by abandoning a world where the tempest of the passions wreaks destruction far more appalling] But the lady Nuala died before the building was finished, and good reason had the friars to cherish lasting remembrance of her piety and munificence. Her remains were interred in a vault which her widowed lord caused to be con- , structed almost under the grand altar, and he also determined that thenceforth his entire posterity should repose in the same crypt. In the course of that year, 1474, Hugh Hoe O’Donnell took to his second wife, Fingalla, daughter of Conor O’Brien, king of Thomond; and this lady, emulating the virtues of her prede¬ cessor, spared no' pains in forwarding the work, until at length she saw the monastery, with its church, cloisters, chapter-house, refectory, library, and other appurtenances, entirely completed. The dedication of the sacred edifice took place in the same year, and a more solemn spectacle was never before witnessed in Tir- Hugh ; nay, not even in the days of blessed Columba, that greatest of all church builders. The munificence of O’Donnell and his wife Fingalla to our friars was unbounded; for, not satisfied with presenting rich altar furniture to the church, they also bestowed some quarters of fertile glebe on the monastery, and, furthermore, gave the friars a perpetual right to fish for 6 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE salmon; nay, and authorized them to build a weir just where the Esk empties its silvery waters into the bay. This was matter of great convenience to the monastery during the Lenten and other fasts which the rule of St. Francis prescribes ; and, indeed, so much did salmon abound in the waters of the bay, that I, myself, in the time of my noviciate, have often seen the friars taking, right under the windows of the infirmary, pro¬ digious quantities of this delicious fish at one haul of the net. In the year 1505, Hugh O’Donnell,* who, at the instance of his first and second wife, conferred so many benefits on the Franciscans of Donegal, died in the castle which he had erected within bowshot of the monastery, and was buried with great solemnity in the sepulchre that he caused to be built for his last resting-place. After his demise the lordship of Tir-Connell devolved on his son, Hugh Oge, who was duly inaugurated at Kilmacrenan. As soon as his mother saw him in undisputed possession of his rights, she abandoned all the pomp and state of a princess, and caused a small residence to be erected for her near the monastery, where she passed the remainder of her days in prayer, alms-giving, and penitential austerities, till she was finally laid in the same tomb with her husband. He, indeed, was a full moon of hospitality ; and, during his reign, such was the security for life and property in all the borders of Tirconnell, that the people only closed their doors to keep out the wind ! In the person of his successor, the Donegal monastery had a faithful friend and zealous patron, who desired nothing so much as to have the vacancies caused by the decease of its early colonists, most of whom came from Coimaught, filled up by natives of his own principality. And, indeed, his wish was ultimately realized; nor was it long till he saw a community of forty Franciscans, mostly his own native-born subjects, domiciled in Donegal. In 1510 this Hugh Oge set out on a pilgrimage to Rome, where he spent two years; and, on his way back to Ireland, tarried sixteen weeks at the court of Henry VIII., who received him as an independent potentate. The career of this prince was singularly fortunate; for during his reign the seasons, and the sea itself, were favourable to the people of Tirconnell. As for the Franciscans, he was their constant benefactor ; so much so, that when a general chapter of the order met in the monas¬ tery of Donegal, he generously supplied that large assemblage ■with food and Spanish wines. Always triumphant in the field. * See Appendix A. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 7 he achieved the still grander victory over self, by taking the habit of St. Francis in our monastery, where he died and was buried in 1537. Two-and-twenty years previous to that period, Menelaus MacCarmagan, bishop of Raphoe, took our habit, and was buried in the same monastery; and in the year 1550, Rory O’Donnell, bishop of Derry, feeling death approach, requested to be clothed in our coarse serge, and ordered that his remains should be laid in our cloister. Nor was it as a resting-place, after their earthly race was run, that the great and high-born desired our peaceful solitude; far otherwise, indeed; for many a valiant chieftain, tired of life’s transient glories, and many a noble of the oldest lineage, famed in bardic song or chronicled in history, severing every tie that bound him to the world, came to Donegal, and there cast away sword, scutcheon, and such worldly vanities, for our poor habit and holy conversation. Long before the great emperor Charles abdicated an empire for the solitude of St. Just, princes of Conal Gulban’s line might be seen in the cloisters of Donegal, enjoying that peace which nor he nor they could ever find in mundane glories. Indeed, during the one hundred and twenty-seven years of its existence, no house of our order, at home or abroad, could boast of men more distinguished for their virtues. But to anti¬ cipate all accidents of time, and rescue from oblivion the memory of one of our brotherhood, whose wonderful sanctity shed lustre on the monastery of Donegal, I deem it my duty to record in these pages what I have learned of him from the lips of those who were living witnesses of his holy life ; for, indeed, he was singularly blessed with the gift of miracles. Father Bernard Gray, surnamed “ Pauper,” from his unparal¬ leled love of holy poverty, was a native of the ancient city of Clogher, where his opulent parents bestowed sedulous pains on his early education. Even from his infancy the child was the admiration of all who came in contact with him, and as he grew up his virtues were the theme of every tongue. Arrived at man’s estate, a powerful chieftain of Fermanagh ofiered him the hand, heart, and wide domains of his fair daughter; but the proposal was hardly made when Bernard disappeared from the scene of his childhood, and entered on his noviciate in the monastery of Donegal. During the entire of the probationary period, his whole life was a practical commentary on the rules of our sainted founder, whose self-denial, and above all, love of poverty were the constant subject of his meditations. After completing his studies, and receiving the order of priesthood, father Bernard’s eminent virtues shone out, if possible, still 8 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE more conspicuously, his love of retirement, and total seclusion from the world notwithstanding. Faithful in the discharge of all the monastic duties, always the first in the choir, when the midnight bell called the friars from their hard pallets, and glo¬ rying in the coarse habit for which he had cheerfully exchanged purple and fine linen; he, to all appearances, seemed to have inherited the glowing fervour and profound humility for which holy Francis was celebrated during his mortal term. The fame of this man’s sanctity and wisdom soon sped beyond the borders of Tirconnell, and reached the ears of Gerald, earl of Kildare, who was then lord deputy.* Desirous of ascertain¬ ing what credit he should give to the marvellous anecdotes related of father Bernard, the earl summoned him to Drogheda, to preach in the presence of his entire court. Bernard obeyed ; and so charmed was Kildare with his eloquence and piety, that he not only invited him to dine at his table, but gave him pre¬ cedence of all his nobles. After dinner, Kildare requested him to entertain the company by narrating some passages in the life of St. Francis, and proving, at the same time, that God had bestowed the choicest privileges on this holy personage. Bernard complied; and when he came to speak of the singular privileges with which God invested our holy founder, he pithily remarked : “Were there no other e^ddence of the transcendent honour with which the Lord has crowned blessed Francis, I think that what you have witnessed here to-day should be amply sufficient. Surely, my lord, when you treat with such deference a man wearing this poor habit, nay, and give him precedence of all your nobles, it must be manifest that God has exalted St. Francis to the highest place in the heavenly court.” “ I agree with you,” replied the earl; “ and I now proclaim to this noble company that you have read my inmost thoughts. I summoned you hither in order to test you in person ; and when I gave you the most distinguished place at my table, I was actually thinking of the honour with which your holy founder has been received at the banquet of the heavenly court. I am now convinced that you are a special favourite of the Most High.” Next day the earl craved his blessing, and dismissed him with many presents for the convent of Donegal. As a complete narrative of the miracles wrought through the instrumentality of father Bernard would fill many a goodly page, I will mention only a few of them here. One night in Lent, when it was his turn to serve the brethren at supper, the * A.D. 1532. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 9 guardian playfully remarked that the fish was very bad, and that the salmon seemed to have deserted the weir which prince O’Donnell built for the benefit of our community. “ The Cistercians of Ashro,”* said the guardian, ‘‘have salmon in abundance; and surely the Esk was ever fishful a river as Saimer f of the blue streams. How comes it, then, father Bernard, that we take no salmon in our weir ” I know not,” replied the latter. “Well, then,” continued the guardian, “I command you to bless the weir in the name of him, at whose word Simon’s net was filled with fish till the meshes snapped asunder, in the lough of Genesareth. I know that you are a special instrument in the Almighty’s hands; do, then, as I tell you.” Bernard obeyed ; and thenceforth the weir of our mon¬ astery nevermore lacked abundance of salmon and trout. On another occasion a creaght,J who used to receive alms for our monastery, came to tell him that a fatal distemper was destroy¬ ing his sheep and cows. Bernard pitied the poor man, and gave him a vessel of water which he had blessed, telling him to sprinkle his flocks with it in the name of the Trinity. “ Avoid,” said he, “ the spells and incantations of wicked people, calling themselves fairymen; but recite the creed and angelic salutation.” The creaght hastened home, did as he was directed, and lo ! his sheep recovered, and his cows, ever after¬ wards, gave more than the usual quantity of milk. In gratitude to God and father Bernard, the man erected a mound of stones on the summit of Dromheari',^ to commemorate such signal mercy; and even to this day that mound is called Brian's Cairn. Singularly remarkable were the circumstances of this holy man’s death ; for, when worn down by penitential austerities, heaven forewarned him of the very hour of his dissolution. One evening, after vespers, the friars hastened to the infirmary, for they knew that he was in his last agony ; and when they knelt round his poor pallet, after the supper-bell had rung, he raised himself up, and told them to go to the refectory. “ Go, go ! ” said he ; “ for my soul shall leave earth to-night in com¬ pany with that of the chanter of Armagh cathedral.” The friars obeyed his command, and on their return found him * Bally shannon, where the O’Cananans founded the Cistercian monas¬ tery in 1184. t The old name of the Erne, which falls into the sea a short distance below Ballvshannon. f Anglice, grazier. $ The top of the reek. 10 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE kneeling, tkongli dead, his sightless eyeballs turned heaven¬ wards, and his rigid arms outstretched in attitude of prayer. This occurred in May, 1549 ; and the guardian lost no time in sending messengers to Armagh, to ascertain if Bernard’s friend was still living. On their arrival they learned that the chanter had died at the very moment of Bernard’s departure, and after telling those about him that on that same night a sanctified soul should leave Donegal monastery for the kingdom of the just. For fully half a century after the decease of this venerable brother, our monastery continued to flourish in peace and happiness, under the fostering protection of the princes of Tirconnell. In the interval, countless fugitives from the Pale came with strange tidings to our friars, telling them how king Henry of England had decreed the spoliation of the religious houses, and how his immediate successor, and his wicked coun¬ sellors, had laid sacrilegious hands on the gold and silver of many a sanctuary. The Franciscans pitied their plundered brethren of the Pale, but they never thought that similar horrors were one day to overtake themselves. Wars, fierce and bloody, it is true, wasted Tirconnell, when Shane O’Neill, in his mad ambition, strove to reduce all Ulster to his sway; but although the fields of Tir-Hugh were desolated by fire and sword, and the prince and princess of Tirconnell lay fettered in the stronghold of Shane the Proud, still no faggot reached our roof-tree, and no hand profaned our altars. Nor is it to be supposed that we lacked wherewithal to tempt the cupidity of the sacrilegious, were such to be found among the clansmen of Tyrone or Tirconnell. Quite the contrary; for many years afterwards,* when I was sacristan, no monastery in the land could make a goodlier show of gold and silver than ours. During the time I held that office, I had in my custody forty suits of vestments, many of them of cloth of gold and silver— some interwoven and brocaded with gold—the remainder silk, we had also sixteen silver chalices, all of which, two excepted, were washed with gold; nor should I forget two splendid ciboriums inlaid with precious stones, and every other requisite for the altars. This rich furniture was the gift of the princes of Tirconnell; and, as I said before, no matter what preys the Tyronians might lift off O’Donnell’s lands, there was no one impious enough to desecrate or spoil our sacred treasury. We fed the poor, comforted them in their sorrows, educated the ♦ A.D. 1600-1. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 11 scions of the princely house, to whom we owed everything, chronicled the achievements of their race, prayed for the souls of our founders and benefactors, chanted the divine offices day and night with great solemnity; and while thus engaged, the tide of war swept harmless by our hallowed walls. But it was not heaven’s will that our peaceful domicile should always be exempted from outrage and invasion ; for, alas ! the mad dissensions of the native princes precipitated their own ruin, which involved ours. The O’Donnell who then ruled the principality had grown old and feeble; and were it not for the energy of his wife, who possessed the heart of a hero and the mind of a warrior, her younger son Donnell would have wrested the wand of chieftaincy from the feeble grasp of his hoary parent. The latter, it is true, had been valiant in his day; but his wars against Turlogh O’Neill, then the ally of queen Elizabeth, and the blood and treasure he lavished in defeating domestic treason, rendered him unable to repel the encroach¬ ments of the English. To add to his miseries, his eldest son, Hugh, had been captured by the deputy Perrott, and re-com¬ mitted to the dungeon of Dublin castle, after an unavailing effort to baffie his pursuers. A second attempt, however, proved successful; for when the avaricious Fitzwilliam replaced his attainted predecessor, the former, for a bribe of a thousand pounds, given, as was said, by the baron of Dungannon,* connived at the flight of the illustrious captive, who, after tar¬ rying fourteen days in the fastness of Glenmalure, spurred hard across the English Pale, and finally reached his father’s castle at Ballyshannon. Good reason had the people of Tirconnell to rejoice at the escape of Hugh Boe ; for during his imprisonment the entire * principality was plundered by Fitzwilliam’s sheriffs and captains, to whom he sold the appointments. The more remote the shire and the more Irish, the larger the sum paid. One Been, for example, obtained a captaincy for a bribe of two gold chains, which he gave to the sordid deputy’s wife ; and another, named Willis, got a similar preferment for sixty pounds. These unscrupulous marauders pillaged the country and held the heads of families in their grasp till ransomed, some for two hundred, and others for three hundred cows ; and when the cattle were not forthcoming they tortured their prisoners by frying the soles of their feet in seething butter and brimstone. As for our friars, they were obliged to betake themselves, with 12 THE KISE AND FALL OF THE their muniments and altar-plate, to the fastnesses of the moun¬ tains, to avoid Willis and his brigands ; who, a few months before Hugh Hoe’s return, swooped down on Donegal in the dead of night, killing thirty of the inhabitants, and occupying the monastery as a garrison. But the day of deliverance was nigh; for Hugh Boe had hardly been inaugurated at Kilmacre- nan when he marched with his trusty clansmen on Donegal, and laid siege to the monastery, into which Willis and his rabble had driven three hundred head of cattle. Sensible of the straits to which he was reduced, Willis threatened to fire the buildings; but the young prince, anxious to preserve the sacred edifice, sufiered him and his people to depart unharmed. The friars returned immediately afterwards; and O’Donnell, for such was now his name and title, seeing the poverty of the district—swei;)t so bare by the English—ofiered to support the community and repair the buildings out of his own revenues, if we would forego our usage of questing from door to door. The proposal, however, was declined ; and the people, their scant means notwithstanding, shared their last morsel with us. For fully nine years after the inauguration of Hugh Roe, the monastery of Donegal enjoyed uninterrupted happiness; for, indeed, the young prince, or, as he was more generally styled, ‘Hhe son of prophecy,”* ever proved himself our special bene¬ factor. After joining his forces with O’Neill’s, these two great j)rinces defeated queen Elizabeth’s armies on many a hard- fought field—nay, and so routed them, that her craftiest deputies and bravest marshals were often fain to sue for truce and peace, no matter how humiliating the conditions. Right heartily did the friars of Donegal pray for the success of their prince, for the repose of the clansmen who fell in his cause ; and, oh! how their jubilant voices made vault and cloister ring, when forty throats pealed out “Te Dmm,” for the defeat of Norris, at Clontibret; Bagnal, on the field of the Yellow Ford; and Cliflbrd, in the passes of the Curlew Mountains ! The father of Hugh Roe always assisted at those grand solemnities; for, after resigning the name and title of O’Donnell, he lived almost constantly among us, preparing himself for the better life, and doing penance for his sins, the weightiest of which was a cruel raid on the wrecked Spaniards of the Armada, whom he slew in Iiniishowen, at the bidding of deputy Fitzwilliam. He died full of years, and we buried him, clothed in our habit, in the tomb of the lords, his predecessors. * See Appendix B. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. IS And, lest it might be thought that the Franciscans were un¬ charitable to the enemies of O’Donnell, I will now state a fact which clears them of such an imputation. When Morrogh, lord Inchiquin, was slain by our prince’s troops, at the ford of Ballyshannon,* Burrogh, the defeated deputy, had the body interred in the Cistercian church of that place. Three months afterwards, our friars claimed the remains ; and when O’Donnell and two bishops decided the controversy in favour of us, we exhumed the corpse, and buried it with great solemnity in the cloister of Donegal. Inchiquin was the foeman of our liege lord; but the O’Brien’s were always buried in Franciscan churches; and was not this Morrogh a scion of the race of the noble lady who did so much for the Franciscans when they first settled in Tir-Hugh 1 In 1601, our community consisted of forty friars; and in that same year, so memorable for calamities, the English Govern¬ ment landed a large force of horse and foot, under the command of sir Henry Docwra, on the shores of Lough Foyle. This general was instructed to sow dissensions among the Irish, by setting up chieftain against chieftain, and holding out every bribe that might induce officers and men to abandon the standard of their liege lord. The scheme prospered; and, alas that I should have to record it! Nial Garv, our prince’s brother-in-law, went over to the enemy, with a thousand of his followers. The perfidious wretch stipulated that he should have all Tirconnell as a reward for his treason, which placed Derry, Lifford, and many other strong places, in the hands of the English. O’Donnell was in Thomond when the news of the revolt reached him, and he lost not a moment in hastening homeward to inflict summary vengeance on his faithless kinsman, who combined the venom of a serpent with the impetuosity of a lion. Having had timely notice that Nial, with the revolted Irish, and his English auxi¬ liaries, were marching on Donegal, we placed all our sacred fur¬ niture in a ship, and removed it to a place of safety. I myself was the last to go on board that vessel; and, as for the rest of the brotherhood, they fled to the wooded country, where they awaited the issue of the impending contest. On the 10th of August, the feast of St. Laurence, martyr, ISTial’s troops took possession of our monastery, and of another belonging to the Franciscans of the third order, that lay close to it at Maghara- beg. t Assisted by engineers from an English war ship at anchor * A. D. 1597. Athcoolowing, on the Erne, between Belleek and Bally- shannon. t The little plain. 14 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE in tlie bay, the traitor threw up earthworks before the two monasteries, strengthened the Castle of Donegal, then consider¬ ably dilajDidated, and made every preparation for a vigorous defence. Meanwhile O’Donnell arrived, pitched his camp at Carrig, within two thousand paces of Donegal, and resolved to give Nial and his followers no rest, night or day, as long as they remained within the desecrated walls. A series of hand-to-hand conflicts, in which Nial’s people suffered severely, ensued; and, in the course of a fortnight many of the revolted Irish, repent¬ ing their treason, deserted in twos and threes to our prince’s camp. Cooj^ed up in the monasteries, and so vigilantly watched by O’Donnell that they could not come out into the open country to lift preys, Nial’s people began to mutiny; when on the night of Michaelmas, the powder stored in the monastery of Donegal took fire, whether accidentally or by the special interposition of heaven I know not, and exploded with a terrific crash, that was heard far out at sea, nay, and scared the wild deer in the coverts of Darnesmore. Oh, the appalling spectacle! hundreds of the besieged were blown to atoms; othei-s, and among the rest, Nial’s own brother,* were crushed to death by masses of the rent masonry; and all that night, while the woodwork of the buildings blazed like a red volcano, in whose glare friend and foe were distinctly visible to each other, O’Donnell’s swordsmen pressed the survivors back across the trenches into the flames, where upwards of a thousand of them perished miserably. Nor should it be forgotten that a ship, laden with munitions for the besieged, ran on a rock, and went to pieces that very night, just as she was entering the bay of Donegal. Next morning Nial proceeded unobserved by O’Donnell’s troops, along the strand to Magharabeg, and returned, under cover of the guns of the English war vessel, with the soldiers he had left in that place, determined to maintain himself to the last among the smoulder¬ ing ruins. O’Donnell immediately shifted his camp nearer to Donegal, and continued the siege till October ; when, being informed that the Spaniards had landed at Kinsale, he struck his tents, and marched to their assistance. Let me draw a veil over the disasters which befel our prince, and console myself by recording that O’Dunlevy, a friar of Donegal, received his latest sigh, and that the Franciscan monastery of Valladolid holds his mortal remains. In the year 1602, Oliver Lambert, the English governor of * See Appendix 0. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 15 Connaught, seized the entire of our sacred furniture, which he desecrated, turning the chalices into drinking cups, and ripping up the brocaded vestments for the vilest uses. Thus perished that fair monastery,* with its treasures of gold, and silver, and precious books. “ Ergo tam docta3 nobis periere tabellse, Scripta quibus pariter tot periere bona ! ” Some years afterwards, Rory, the brother of O’Donnell, who had obtained a considerable portion of the wide domains of his ancestors, together with the title of Earl —ah ! how inferior to that with which the prince of Tirconnell used to be acclaimed on the sacred rock of Kilmocrenan !—set about restorino; the monastery of Donegal; but learning that the English were plotting against his life, he fled with the great O’Neill to Rome, where they both died, and were buried in the Franciscan monastery on the Janiculum. Thus were our poor friars left without a protector, and there was no one to re-edify our once beautiful convent. The English, who now possess the whole country, suffer the old friars to pass the residue of their years among the mountains and glens, because they know that they must all die out very soon ; but they will not allow them to receive any young members. Such is the actual condition of our community in the neighbourhood of that once fair house I loved so well, and over whose ruins mine aged eyes have wept. ‘‘ But, father,” said Purcell, closing the book, “ you have not told us how it fared with Nial Garv'? ” “ May God assoil him ! ” replied Mooney. “ He was treated as he deserved—for the English seized him ; and although Apsley, lieutenant of London tower, reports ‘ that Nial did the state as great service as any man of his nation, in the late queen!s reign,^ nevertheless, he and his son Naghtan, whom they took from Oxford college, are still held in chains, without hope of enlargement. Nial shared the fate of many other traitors— the English used them for their own purposes as long as they required their infamous services ; and when their work was j done, flung them to rot in a dungeon.” At this moment a lay-brother entered the apartment, and , told father Mooney that a courier from the court of the arch¬ dukes was waiting to see him on a matter of serious moment. “ Let him come in,” replied the good friar; for assuredly the archdukes have unequalled claims to our poor attentions.” * See Appendix D. 16 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE “ Father,” said the courier, as he crossed the threshold, “ their highnesses have charged me with a doleful mission. I have ridden in hot haste from Brussels, to inform you that Bernard O’Neill, son of the great earl of Tyrone, and page to the archduke, has been found murdered in his apartment this afternoon.” “ Murdered ! ” exclaimed the two friars. ‘‘ ’Tis too true,” continued the courier. “ The fact has astounded all Brussels. The court goes into mourning tliis very night, and the obsequies will take place to-morrow, in the cathedral of Saint Oudule, where their highnesses expect the presence of your reverend community.” “ But what Judas perpetrated the horrid deed ?” demanded the aged friar, covering his face with his hands. “Was it • some fiend in human shape, like those whom Cecil and Mount- joy employed to assassinate his illustrious father by dagger or poison'? ” “ I know not,” answered the courier; “ for, as yet, the whole affair is shrouded in mystery. The noble youth was found strangled in his own lodgings, to which the murderers got access in the absence of his tutor and two valets, mere striplings, one of whom was Irish and the other French. Doubtless it would have been perilous to attempt such an atro¬ city in the palace of the archdukes, and the murderers—be they who they may—sought their opportunity in the page’s private lodgings. His throat bears marks of violent compres¬ sion ; and after life was extinct, the perpetrators of this execra¬ ble villany suspended the corpse by a cord five feet long, to make it appear that he committed suicide. Their highnesses’ chirurgeon, however, afiirms, after a careful autopsy, that he was cruelly murdered. Who could think that ke would com¬ mit suicide '1 ” “ He ! ” interrupted the provincial. “ His noble soul never harboured a thought of such a cowardly hellish crime. Alas ! alas ! we knew him well; for his father entrusted him to the care of our friars here in Louvain when he was only nine years old. Would to God that he had brought him with him to Home, where he would have been farther removed from the sworn enemies of his creed and race ! But heaven’s will be done, and let us bow to its inscrutable behests. Dear, gene¬ rous youth, what a hapless lot has been thine !—how rapidly hast thou followed thy glorious father to the grave ! * Among * Hugh. O’Neill died in 1616, just one year before the murder of his son. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 17 all tliy compeers there was none like to thee, for comely face, virile gravity, and heroic virtue. Foremost in our schools, most distinguished in all science that became thy lofty lineage, thou wouldst have rivalled thy father’s deathless deeds, had heaven spared thee to our hopes and bleeding country. Ah, how often has this old heart throbbed with joy when I heard the arch¬ duchess call thee the fairest rose in her garland—and oh, with what ill-suppressed emotion have I listened to our archduke— whom may God preserve !—telling how, instead of being ener¬ vated by four years of court life, thy knowledge of booklore, love of learned men, and skill in every chivalrous exercise, raised thee far above all thy young competitors. Woe to the impious hand that wrought the heinous deed !—woe to the en¬ vious heart that conceived it ! Envious! Alas, doth not experience teach that the sordid and grovelling plod their way through life unharmed and little noticed, while those who chan¬ nel a distinguished course for themselves, either by the innate force of their own genius, or the perpetuation of ancestral fame, become targets for the poisoned shafts of calumny—nay, and often objects of the mui-derer’s implacable hatred! God rest thee, Bernard, son of Hugh ! and since we cannot lay thee in thy father’s grave, we will crave it as a boon that thy loved remains be given to us, to be interred in our new church, where, unless my forecastings deceive me, many another Irish exile shall await the resurrection. Go, kind sir, and tell their high¬ nesses that we will hasten to Brussels to-morrow morning, after having chanted mass and requiem for the soul so untimeously sent to its account.” “ Father,” continued the provincial, addressing his colleague, after the courier had retired, “ let us try to snatch a few hours’ sleep, if the dolorous tidings we have j ust heard will suffer it to visit us. We will resume our reading some other time, and I will unfold certain matters of great interest which do not come within the scope of your volume. Peace be with you !— good night ! ” CHAPTER II. O’Neill’s letter to James I.—Carr earl of Somerset—Camden’s Annals— The Spanish Armada—Lord deputy Fitzwilliam—Archbishop Loftus —Execution of Hugh Gaveloc—Monastery of Adare. Two evenings after the obsequies of the young page, father Mooney and his colleague Purcell were seated in the little c 18 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE library, talking over the event which had spread consternation through all Brussels, and hazarding various conjectures anent the motives which might have led to the commission of such a horrid crime. ‘‘For the present,” observed the provincial, ‘‘the whole affair is shrouded in darkest mystery; but I trust that Providence will sooner or later overtake the murderer, and hold him up to the execration of mankind. For my own paid, I am convinced that the atrocity was instigated by some of those who bore a deadly hatred to the great earl of Tyrone, and who at present have an interest in his plundered domains.” “ But, father,” asked Purcell, “ what could the undertakers or planters as they are styled, have to apprehend from a mere stripling, like poor ill-fated young Bernard'? Surely, king James, the crowned pedant who now reigns, never entertained a thought of restoring Tyrone even to a portion of his vast estates ! ” “ Strange as it may seem to you,” replied the provincial, “ some of the undertakers did fear that king James would reverse the outlaAvry, and call back Tyrone to Ireland. As you may not be aware of the fact, I may as well tell you that there was a negotiation afoot for Tyrone’s recall from Borne ; and that James’s jirime favourite, Somerset, encouraged the noble exile to memorial the king for an act of oblivion and indemnity. Tyrone adopted the suggestion; and just three years ago, wrote to the king, stating ‘ that he had given no other cause for just indignation, than leaving the royal dominions without licence, having been thereunto constrained by unjust vexations, and sundry oppressions of some of his majesty’s ministers.’ * It is likely enough that such an appeal to mercy might not have altogether failed had Somerset continued in James’s favour; but in the following year the murder of sir Thomas Overbury, in which the minion and his countess were accomplices, and for which both would have been sent to the block, had they not possessed some awful secret affecting the royal character, put an end to all correspondence between the king and the earl of Tyrone. The latter died last year; and, although his brother Cormac is now a prisoner in the tower of London, it is not un¬ likely that the good offices of our archdukes, Ferdinand and Isabella, would have been employed in behalf of him. and his lamented nephew. Intervention of the sort would not have been slighted; and it is for this reason I conjecture that the young * See “ Flight of the Earls,” second edition, p. 377. FRAXCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 19 lad’s death was compassed by some of those undertakers, as they call themselves, who have an interest in his forfeited estates. Be that as it may, I pray God to avenge the blood of slaughtered innocence.” “ Withal, father,” resumed Purcell, “it is difficult to imagine , that the king’s pardon would ever have been extended to Tyrone ; for, besides the war of ten years which he waged against the English, the greatest of their historians has charged him with an act which lowers him to the level of a vulofar hangman. Accident has just thrown into my hands a Latin work by one William Camden,* entitled • Annals of England and Ireland during the reign of Elizabeth ; ’ and I find that this very elegant and erudite author represents Tyrone in the most odious colours. Let me read the passages, for I have no doubt that you will criticise them fairly. Writing of the events of 1589, he says : ‘ Hugh Gaveloc, so called because he was a long time a chained prisoner, the natural son of Shane O’Neill, accused Hugh, earl of Tyrone, of holding treasonable parleys with certain Spaniards wffio were cast on the Irish coast in the wreck of the Armada. The earl desiring to escape the charge, ordered that Gaveloc should be arrested and strangled; but finding that no one could be had to do the office of executioner —so great was the respect for the name of O’Neill—he himself, it is said, adjusted the rope, and put the unfortunate man to death.’ A little further on, Camden gives us a portrait of the great earl. ‘ His body,’ says he, ‘ was capable of enduring hardships, long vigils, and want of food j and as for his mind, it was insatiable, equal to any sort of statecraft, skilled in war¬ fare, and profoundly versed in dissembling ; so much so, that most people regarded him as born either for the great weal or the great woe of his country.’ ” “You have read quite enough to convince me,” interrupted the provincial, “ that Camden, of whom I never before heard, is a plagiarist, or, as the adage has it, a beggar dressed in stolen clothes. Without pretending to a very extensive acquaintance with classics, I remember the same description of Catiline in Sallust \ and it seems to me that in this particular instance Camden hath appropriated another man’s words. Doubtless the description is fair enough; but anent that power of dissem¬ bling, which I do not gainsay, I will merely observe, that Tyrone acquired it in the school of Burghley and Cecil, who were masters of the craft. Then, again, it is said that dissimulation * Published in 1615. 20 THE EISE AND FALL OF THE is the art of kings, and that he who does not know how to dissemble is not fit to reign. So thought the great emperor Charles V. ; and assuredly Hugh, ear] of Tyrone, was for a time a true sovereign in his own principality. As for the insinuation that he hanged Gaveloc with his own hands, it is absolutely false ; and I suspect that Camden was indebted to sir Nicholas White, master of the rolls in Ireland, for the statement he has left on record. Indeed the said White wrote to Burghley, the high treasurer, that Tyrone did hang Gaveloc with his own hands, when he could get no other to do it—nay, and that he refused a ransom of 300 horses and oOOO cows for the unfor¬ tunate man’s life. This I had from Tyrone himself. But as you have alluded to the unfortunate Armada, I will premise some facts that may not have come to your knowledge, as you were in Italy when they occurred. At the time when the Spanish ships were wrecked on the northern and western coast of Ireland, Fitzwilliam, the lord deputy, and Adam Loftus, the queen’s archbishop of Dublin, distinguished themselves in a manner that I think should not pass unnoticed. The deputy, Avho was the most sordid man that ever held that high office, lost no opportunity of making a profit of it; and no sooner did he learn that some of the crews of the Spanish vessels had been saved in Galway and Innishowen, than he marched with a considerable force to the ancient city of the Tribes, where he caused the unfoidunate sailors to be arrested, and closely searched for any valuables they might have on their persons. The search, however, was fruitless, and so sorely disappointed was the avaricious deputy, that he ordered two hundred of those wretched men to be executed on the hill where the Augustin friars had their convent. Pursued by the curses of the people of Galway, who w^ere unable to prevent this cruel butchery, Fitzwilliam hurried on to Innishowen, where, not satisfied with slaying many of the disarmed Spaniards, he carried off all the cattle of the district, burnt the haggards, and made prisoners of sir Owen O’Toole and O’Doherty, although the former had entertained him sumptuously in his own house. On arriving in Dublin, O’Doherty was set at large, but the aged O’Toole was thrown into the castle dungeon, where he died after a long imprisonment. “ It was precisely at this period that Loftus, the queen’s archbishop of Dublin, made his celebrated reply to Burghley, the high treasurer, accounting for what he termed the general backwardness in religion, and showing how it might be remedied. A few extracts from that remarkable document, of which a copy FEANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 21 lias fallen into my hands, will show yon how the archbishop and the deputy strove to forward the reformation. ‘ Your lordship,’ wrote Loftus, ‘hath most wisely considered that the sword alone without the word is not sufficient to bring the people of this realm from popery—a thing whereto they are misled over from their cradles. But I assure your lordship, that unless they be forced, they will not ever come to hear the word preached; as by experience we observed at the time appointed by the lord deputy for a general assembly of all the noblemen and gentlemen of every county, after her majesty’s good success against the Spaniard, to give God thanks for the same : at which time,‘although the sheriffs of every county did their duties with all diligence, and warned all men to repair to the principal church, where order was taken for public jirayers and thanksgivings unto God, together with a sermon to be preached by choice men in every diocese, yet very few or none almost resorted thereto ; but even in Dublin itself the lawyers in term time took occasion to leave the town on purpose to absent themselves from that godly exercise. It is bootless labour for any man to preach in the country out of Dublin, for want of hearers ; but in mine opinion this may be easily remedied, if the ecclesiastical commission be put in force, and if liberty be left to myself to imiwison and fine all such as are obstinate in popery—nay, and to send such of them as are able to bear their own expenses to England, for example sake. The sooner this course of reformation is begun the better it will prosper, and the longer it is deferred the more dangerous it will be.’ ” “ A strange device,” remarked father Purcell, “ and assuredly a most cruel mode of propagating a creed. Fines and imprison¬ ment for what they termed recusancy, were poor arguments for the apostolicity of the new religion. Nevertheless, Loftus’s lament over the failure of his mission reflects credit on the Irish Catholics, and on the lawyers in particular. It is manifest, too, that the Irish did sympathize with the shijiwrecked Spaniards.” “ Most certainly,” resumed the provincial : “ and be it recorded to the honour of the women of Galway, that they pro¬ vided shrouds and coffins for the mariners so inhumanly massacred by Fitzwilliam. O’Bourke, of Breffny, afforded protection to many of them—nay, refused to surrender them to Bingham, Elizabeth’s governor of Connaught and the MacSwynes, of Tirconnell, treated others of them with their wonted hospitality. As for Tyrone, he entertained some of their most distinguished captains at Dungannon, thus bringing on 22 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE himself the dark suspicions of the English, and giving Gaveloc a pretext for accusing him of holding a treasonable correspon¬ dence with king Philip of Spain. Touching the manner of Gaveloc’s death, however, and the reasons which compelled Tyrone to compass it, Camden is entirely mistaken ; and to show you how sedulously his enemies laboured to blacken the character of the greatest Irishman of his age, I will now give you a brief and veritable account of the circumstances which preceded and accompanied the execution. Hugh Gaveloc returned to Strabane early in 1589, after having spent a year and a-half in Scotland, where he met some of the survivors of the Armada, whom Tyrone had sheltered in Dungannon. Worming himself into their confidence, they unbosomed them¬ selves to him, and gave a glowing description of the hospitality which they had received in the earl’s house, at the very moment when Fitzwilliam’s soldiers were searching for them along the coast, from Sligo haven to the headlands of Innishowen. What the Spaniards may have said of the earl’s devotedness to king Philip, I have not been able to learn; but an intercepted letter, desjiatched by Gaveloc to the -deputy, left no doubt that he intended to impeach Tyrone of high treason before the privy council. In fact, he wrote that he ‘ had great matters to reveal, , which woidd he more better for her majesty's commonweal than a thousand jmunds ; ’ and concluded by ‘ craving his honour not to pardon any man of great estimation, and specicdly the man whom the hearer of the letter was to name, as he was forthcoming for matters of great imgwrtance,' till he himself, Gaveloc, had repaired to Dublin castle. The man to be named by the mes¬ senger was the earl of Tyrone, who, as soon as the letter fell into his hands, resolved to keep close Avatch on the movements of the writer. Presuming that he had thus secured for himself the support of the English government, Gaveloc committed several murders and robberies on the people in and about Dungannon ; till Tyrone, no longer able to endure such savagery, had him seized, and tried according to the ancient custom in Ulster, where, as yet, there was no course of English law, judge, sheriff, or magistrate, and where, from immemorial time, each lord of a sept had full power to deal summarily with evildoers. The lord deputy was in Galway at the time of Gaveloc’s arrest, and the chancellor wrote to Tyrone, entreating him not to put the sentence in execution till his lordship had returned to Dublin. Out of respect for the chancellor, and yielding to the urgent instances of his brother Cormac, Tyrone gave the prisoner a respite of fourteen days, on the strict I FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 23 understanding tliat Bryan, Con, and the rest of Gaveloc’s brothers, should submit themselves to him, and that one of the three should always remain pledge for the other two by turns, and at his choice, stipulating at the same time, that if they failed to perform this within fourteen days, then Gaveloc should be hung without further delay. Gaveloc, confiding in his brother Con, agreed to the arrangement; but the latter, setting no value on the compact into which he had entered, and caring little for the prisoner’s fate, violated his solemn oath, and refused to return to Tyrone, who, at the expiration of the fourteenth day, caused Gaveloc to be executed, in presence of his brother Cormac, Art O’Hagan, and more than a hundred others, whereof part were of the most distinguished men in the country. The executioners were Loughlin MacMurtagh and his brother, who came from the borders of Meath and Cavan. Camden,-therefore ventilates a foul calumny, when he insinuates that Tyrone lowered himself to the level of a hangman. The termination of this affair was very curious ; for when the dej)uty affected to be wroth with Tyrone for hanging Gaveloc, he replied, that he had done no injury to the latter, hut that if any injury was done him, it loas hy Con O’ Neill, who fell from a reasonable composition, in whose default execution followed. Gaveloc’s death took place in January, 1590 ; and in the March following, Tyrone obtained the deputy’s licence to proceed to London, where, taking up his abode in the house of Sir Henry Wallop, he remained three weeks restrained from her majesty’s court and presence, till he convinced the lords of the j)rivy council that he had acted according to the ancient laws of his country, by ridding society of a notable murderer, whose father had slain his father and brother, and whose many crimes justified him in cutting ofi* so vile a miscreant. Elizabeth was finally placated by his artful pleading, and Hatton, the far-famed dancing chancellor, and lord Ormond, ofiered themselves as securities that the earl would be forthcoming in Ireland when¬ ever it might suit deputy Fitzwilliam to arraign him for having taken the law into his own bauds. Tyrone soon afterwards returned to Ulster; but he had not been long there when Fitz¬ william summoned him to appear before the privy council. Having signified his readiness to obey the mandate, he despatched his secretary to Dublin, with orders to provide a splendid banquet, at which he was to entertain the chiefest of the English nobility on the night of his arrival. The guests were all assembled when Tyrone entered the city after sunset; but instead of going at once to preside at the feast, he rode to 24 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE the castle, and presented himself to the deputy, who received him with great show of friendship, and told him to return on the morrow. Tyrone was well aware that Fitzwilliam had received private instructions to arrest him; but as he had no wish to join O’Donnell and the other nobles, then prisoners in the castle, he remounted his horse, and spurred hard all night, till daybreak saw him beyond the northern boundary of the Pale. The guests imagined that he had been detained by the deputy on matters of state ; but Tyrone was fully satisfied that he had acted as became an honourable man, by presenting him¬ self when summoned, and thus exonerating his bailsmen from all responsibility. These,” continued the provincial, “ are some of the incidents which I said did not come within the scope of your volume ; but let us now return to our subject; and as I forgot to give you my gleanings anent the monastery of Adare, take your pen and write while I dictate.” Father,” observed Purcell, “ I was anxious to learn some¬ thing concerning Tyrone’s conduct in that extraordinary marriage with Mabel Bagnal, sister of the marshal of that name.” ‘‘ Some other time,” replied the provincial, “ I will satisfy your curiosity on that head; but let us now save from oblivion the little that I have to relate concerning our monastery of Adare.” Father Purcell 'took a pen, and wrote, from his superior’s dictation, the following narrative ‘‘ Of all our Munster monasteries, there was none more beautiful than that of Adare, whose ruins look down on the silvery Mague. The venerable edifice stands twelve miles south-west of Limerick, and within eight of the Shannon, where the Mague pours its tributary waters into that mighty river. The Franciscans are mainly indebted for this monastery to Thomas, seventh earl of Kildare, and Joanna, his wife, daughter of James, earl of Desmond, who laid its first stone in 1464, and erected the church and a fourth part of the cloister Avithin the same year. Kildare and his countess were munificent benefac¬ tors to our brotherhood ; for, not satisfied with furnishing the church with glass windows, they bestowed upon it a bell of great value, and two silver chalices. The church was consecrated in honour of Michael the Archangel, on the saint’s festival, in 1466, precisely one year before the decease of James, earl of Desmond, who was executed in Drogheda, for ^ fosterage, alliance, and alterage with the Irish.’ The places consecrated as cemeteries outside the church, were the cloister, Avithin and without, and both sacristies rRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 25 together with a field which was destined for public sepulture. South of this a small patch of ground was left unconsecrated, in order that it might be reserved for those who were deprived of Christian burial. The remaining portions of the building were completed by different persons, whose names are inscribed in an ancient register, which I saw in the hands of father James Hickey, formerly guardian of the convent, and which was read in the chapter-room on all Fridays of the year, when it was customary to pray for the health of our benefactors’ ^ouls. Cornelius O’Sullivan erected the belfry, and made an ofiering of a silver chalice burnished with gold. Margaret Fitzgibbon, wife of Cornelius O’Dea, built the great chapel; and John, son of the earl of Desmond already mentioned, erected a second chapel of minor dimensions, to which Margaret, wife of Thomas Fitzmaurice, added a third, small, indeed, but ex¬ quisitely beautiful. O’Brien of Ara and his wife built the dormitory, while Bory O’Dea completed a poi-tion of the cloister, and presented a silver chalice. Marianus O’Hickey, who sub¬ sequently took our- habit and died in Adare, built the refectory; and it was he who furnished the northern side of the choir with its beautiful panellings and stalls. Donald O’Dea and Sabina, his wife, finished another poidion of the cloister; and Edmond Thomas, knight of the Glens, and his wife, Honora Fitzgibbon, built the infirmary. The latter died May, 1503. Another lady, wife of Fitzgibbon, added ten feet to the length of the chancel, that the priests might have ampler space about the great altar, and she likewise caused a .vault to be constructed for herself under the choi]\ O’Sullivan, who erected the belfry, died in 1492; and Margaret Fitzgibbon, who built the chapel dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, passed out of this life in January, 1483. Donough, son of Bernard O’Brien, who built the dormitory, died on the vigil of the feast of St. Francis, 1502 ; and our founder, Thomas, earl of Kildare, departed March 25, 1478. Joanna, his wife, expired on the feast of St. Antony of Padua, 1486, and was interred in the sacred edifice that owed so much to her munificence. Among the other illustrious personages buried in our convent of Adare, was Baymond de Burgh, a friar of our order, and bishop of Emly, who died July 29, 1562. He is said to have been the last bishop of Emly, for the see was united to that of Cashel in the time of his successor. “ When I was in Cork I saw a considerable pordion of the sacred furniture of this convent in possession of father Thomas Fitzgerald, who showed me a very beautiful silver-gilt ciborium 26 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE for the most holy sacrament, a silver cross, nsed in processions^ and six or seven chalices, nearly all of which were washed with gold. He also had the register of the convent, and various suits of sumptuous vestments, which were seriously injured by time. During the wars of the great earl of Desmond, our friars were ejected from the convent of Adare ; and when queen Elizabeth bestowed the desecrated edifice on one Wallop, a soldier of fortune, he allowed it to go to ruin. When I visited it the roof had fallen in, but the walls were still standing. Withal it may one day revert to the Franciscans for whom it was built; and even if it should not, these few particulars of its history are worth preserving. Enough for the present; so let us postpone the narrative of Tyrone’s marriage with Mabel Bagnal till we have more leisure for gossij).” * CHAPTER III. O’Neill and the Bagnals—He marries Mabel—The Monasteries of Drogheda and Dundalk. How, father,” said Purcell, I will remind you of your pro¬ mise, and ask you to tell me all you have gleaned of Tyrone’s marriage with Mabel Bagnal.” “ In good faith, dear brother,” interrupted the provincial, ‘At is a subject that I would fain eschew, for quid monachis cum fodtiiinis ? ’ or, in other words, what have we poor friars to do with gossip of the sort ! Nevertheless, I will keep my word, and tell you all that I remember of an event which caused great noise in its day ; for, strange as it may seem to you, Tyrone’s marriage with Bagnal’s sister was made a question of state, not only in Dublin castle, what time Fitzwilliam was lord deputy, but also in the Honor of Greenwich, where Burghley and other lords of Elizabeth’s privy council treated the matter with as much gravity as if it perilled the continuation of English dominion in Ireland. I myself often spoke to Tyrone on the subject; and I need hardly tell you that he complained bitterly of the manner in which he was dealt with by sir Henry Bagnal, his brother-in-law, nay, and by the lords of the privy council, who insinuated that he not only carried off Mabel against her will and consent, but married her while his lawful * See Appendix E. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 27 wife was still alive. I could not enumerate all the letters that were written on this subject; but I remember well that Tyrone showed me the entire correspondence, including his own answers to the charges laid against him by Pitzwilliam, the lord treasurer,, and others of the queen’s cabinet. Withal, as I said before, I’d rather eschew the subject altogether, and leave it to some Irish seanachie with the genius of that good Lope de Vega, who, after delighting all Spain with the exquisite beauty of his verse, renounced Parnassus for Calvary, and sword and shield for the cowl and rosary of a Carmelite in the monastery of Toledo. I deem it necessary, however, before entering into a detail of the circumstances connected with Tyrone’s marriage, to in¬ form you that sir Nicholas Bagnal, the first of that name who figures prominently in our history, came to Ireland in 1542. This Nicholas was a native of Staffordshire, in England; and being a hotheaded galliard, killed a man in a brawl, for which he had to fly his own country, and seek refuge in Ireland, where, at the urgent entreaty of Con, first earl of Tyrone, he received pardon of Henry VIII., and in course of time became an energetic enemy of the O’Neills. Having obtained large grants of land in Down—the principality of the MacGinnesses —he laid the foundation of the modern Newry, and there built a strong castle, in which he resided constantly. Early in the reign of Elizabeth he was appointed marshal of the queen’s forces in Ireland, and when he died his son sir Henry succeeded to all his honours. The latter was a man of considerable ability at the pen, for he wrote a description of Ulster in 1587 ; but if fame does not belie him, he was at heart a very craven. Sharing his father’s hatred of the Irish, and intent on his own aggrandizement, he lost no opportunity of adding to the grants which he inherited ; so much so, indeed, that he ultimately became one of the most active of the supplanting foemen of the O’Neills and their subordinate lords. When the MacMahon of Monaghan was executed at his own door, by the infamous order of deputy Fitzwilliam, sir Henry Bagnal received a con¬ siderable portion of the murdered chieftain’s lands ; and there can be little doubt that he hoped to oust Tyrone himself, and share the partition of his wide domains. He was, in sooth, a greedy adventurer, restless, rapacious, unscrupulous; in a word, one who deemed it no sin or shame to aid in any process by which the rightful occupant might be driven from his holding, provided he got share of the spoil. This man hated Tyrone with implacable animosity; and indeed the earl reciprocated the 28 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE sentiment—nay, branded him in public and private as a coward, wlio shrunk from the ordeal of single combat.” “ Single combat ! ” interrupted father Purcell. Surely Tyrone was not justified in accepting or proposing such ! ” “ Have you not read,” replied the provincial, how Wen- ceslaus, the canonized duke of Bohemia, offered to enter the lists and fight his mortal enemy, Badislaus'? ” “ Yes,” answered father Purcell; “ but the legend tells how an angel armed Wenceslaus in celestial panoply, and forbade his adversary to unsheath the sword.” “ Be that as it may,” continued the provincial, “ Bagnal re¬ fused to encounter Tyrone, when the latter proposed to meet him—nay, slunk away like a craven, although the earl offered to allow the dastard to come armed from head to foot, against him in hose and jerkin, to encourage him the rather to accept the challenge. Bagnal was valiant enough with the pen, when indicting charges of covert treason against Tyrone—a perfect master of fence when nothing but the pen was needed to deal an assassin thrust; but when there was question of cold, glitter¬ ing steel, his heart melted within him like wax. In fact, like the pedant king James who now reigns, he trembled at sight of a drawn sword.” “ And yet,” resumed Purcell, “ is it not strange that this man allowed his sister to marry Tyrone'? ” “ Allowed her ! ” replied the provincial. “ Therein you are wrong, for he did his utmost to prevent their union—nay, sought to dissolve it when it had been effected. But let me tell you all that I know of the wooing and wedding. Tyrone’s wife, the countess Judith, sister of Hue Boe O’Donneil, died early in 1590; and some months afterwards the earl met, I know not where, but most likely in Newry, Mabel, sir Henry’s sister. Fascinated by the beauty of the English damsel^—for indeed she was a comely creature, just entering her twentieth year— and captivated by the winsome grace of her manners, the earl resolved to marry her, and, like an honourable man, declared his intentions to her brother. Sir Henry, on hearing the pro¬ posal, raised some foolish dif&culties about the incivility of the earl’s country, as though there were no lordly halls in Dungan¬ non, sweet-sounding harps, tender matrons, blooming gardens, and genial hearts in all Tyrone ; but his real objection was to part with the lady’s dowry of one thousand pounds, which he held in trust. Tyrone arranged to settle a jointure on Mabel; and she, dear creature, had made up her mind to marry him, with or without her churlish brother’s consent. Finding that FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 29 his sister had set her heart upon the earl, sir Henry refused to allow the nuptial ceremony to take place till he had received letters from queen Elizabeth’s cabinet sanctioning the project; and in the meanwhile he caused Mabel to be removed from the castle of ISTewry to Turvey, some eight or nine miles north of Dublin, the residence of sir Patrick Barnwell, to whom her sister was married. How it fared with the marshal’s applica¬ tion to the queen’s ministers I never heard ; but it is quite ceidain that Mabel’s removal to her sister’s mansion did not realize her brother’s intent; quite otherwise indeed, for the earl followed her to Turvey, and employed all his persuasive eloquence to obtain lady Barnwell’s consent to the match ; and I need hardly say that she was little loath to see her fair sister mated with one whose ancestry, chivalry, and wide domains entitled him to the hand and heart of the most nobly-born dame in Christendom. Sir Patrick Barnwell gave willing ear to his pleading; and as for Mabel, such was the vehemence of her love, that she then and there solemnly trothed herself to Tyrone, who presented her with a chain of gold, as a symbol of that union in which their hearts were to be linked for evermore. The HrouthaV took place early in July, 1591, and towards the close of that month the earl, accompanied by a gay retinue of English gentlemen, went to dine at Turvey, where their host made them good entertainment, and where it had been previously arranged that Mabel should bide her opportunity, and leave the mansion with a gentleman who came in Tyrone’s suite. And in good faith she was true to her word ; for, after dinner, when the guests were betaking themselves to various games, she mounted on horseback behind the earl’s friend, who, followed by two serving-men, never drew bridle till they arrived at the house of Mr. Warren, who lived at Drumcondra, within a mile of Dublin. As soon as the earl ascertained that his ‘ prey ’— I use his own word—was well forward on her road to the place agreed upon, he, too, mounted his horse, and, accompanied by his English friends, sjourred hard after his ladylove. There was no time to be lost in solemnizing the nuptials; and the earl despatched a messenger to Jones, the queen’s bishop of Meath, who happened to be in Dublin at that moment, praying him to hasten without delay to Warren’s house, where his presence was urgently needed. The bishop, for aught I know, may have imagined that Tyrone was about to renounce his faith ; but if any such idea haunted his mind it was soon removed, when, on entering the house, he found arrangements made for a wedding, and the fail' girl in a noble apartment, attended by a considerable 30 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE number of Englisli ladies and gentlemen. ‘ My lord/ said the earl, ^ I have invited you hither to marry myself and this gentlewoman, to whom I was betrothed about twenty days ago; and I am desirous that rather you than any other should per¬ form the office between us, that the world may know we are mAirried according to her majesty’s laws.’ ‘ What you require from me,’ replied the bishop, ‘ is a matter of great importance; and you must first permit me to confer with the gentlewoman herself ; ’ and with this he took Mabel aside, and demanded of her whether she had plighted her troth to the earl. To this she answered that she had done so twenty days before, and that she had received from him a gold chain, worth a hundred pounds, as a token. To the question whether she had come away volun¬ tarily from Turvey, she replied that she had done so of her own free consent; and finally, when asked whether she was resolved to take the earl to her husband, she answered : / My lord, you see in what case I am, how I came hither with mine own consent, and have already promised the earl to be his wife. I beseech you, therefore, for my credit’s sake, to perfect the marriage between us ; the sooner the better, for my honour’s sake.’ Satisfied with the examination, the bishop remarked that it barely remained for him to perfect ‘ the knot that them¬ selves had already knytt; ’ and he instantly solemnized the marriage according to her majesty’s laws. The merry makings on this occasion lasted four or five days, and I need not tell you that such revel was never before witnessed in Drumcondra. At its conclusion, the earl hastened to Dungannon with his young bride, and upwards of a hundred English gentlemen whom he enteidained there right sumptuously for the sake of his countess."^ But how am I to describe sir Henry Bagnal’s conduct when he was certified of his sister’s marriage'? He stormed and vapoured like a very madman, accursing himself, that his father’s blood and his own, which had been often spilled in repressing this rebellious race, should now be mingled with so traitorous a stock and kindred !’ And not satisfied with this, he vented his rage on Jones, his own countryman, for solem¬ nizing the marriage. ‘ The bishop of Meath,’ said he, ‘ partici¬ pated in this villany; and by such like examples in men of his sort, God’s word is greatly slandered, and many men in this kingdom, who, I think, would otherwise willingly embrace the truth, are brought into detestation of the gospel ! ’ But he * See Appendix F. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 31 made a graver charge against him; for he asserted, as I have already told you, that Mabel’s marriage was performed while the earl’s wife was still alive, and that he, the bishop, was aware of the impediment. Burghley, on receiving this intel¬ ligence, wrote by the queen’s orders, commanding Jones to account for his conduct; and the poor man, frightened out of his wits, replied ‘ that he never was cognizant of any such “ barr ; ” and that if he had had an inkling of it, he would not have done what he did, not even for the marshaVs yearly revenue.'' Thus was the unfortunate bishop involved in a very peiqilexing embroilment; and what was still more ludicrous, a council of cabinet ministers bent all their energies to discover the truth or falsehood of the allegation against Tyrone. As for him, he satisfied deputy Fitzwilliam that the accusation was grounded on an intimacy which he had formed, in the days of his hot youth, with the daughter of sir Brian M‘Phelim, from whom he was separated by order of the Church, long before he married his late wife, countess Judith, daughter of O’Donnell. The sentence invalidating the former connexion, on account of a diriment impediment, was duly registered by the officials of Armagh cathedral; who, when examined by the deputy, pro¬ duced the instrument signed and sealed, and furthermore de¬ clared, that, by reason of said impediment, the Church never could have sanctioned the sacramental union of the parties. Thus was the earl cleared of the charge which sir Henry made on such loose information—a charge, indeed, which, to use ■ Tyrone’s words, ‘ was meant to discredit him, and to undo his wedded wife.’ Bagnal was utterly discomfited in his attempt to disgrace his own sister; and Burghley, the queen’s favorite minister, pronounced that Tyrone had acted honourably in the transaction, when the latter wrote, that ffif he had not been thoroughly cleared from the gentlewoman whom the marshal would now thrust upon him, he would not for any worldly goods have stained his credit and conscience by taking a second wife.’ Let me add that Tyrone a short time after his nuptials went to London, where he purchased rich furniture for his castle of Dungamion. I have now told you all that I know of Tyrone’s marriage with Mabel Bagnal; but I should not omit mention¬ ing that she became a Catholic, and lived to witness many a glorious victory wrested from the soldiers of her own race by her gallant husband. As for sir Henry, his hatred of Tyrone grew more deadly as years sped onwards ; so much so, that he never could be induced to pay the dowiy which he held in trust for Mabel. She died in 1596 ; and two and a-half years after- 32 the rise and fall of the wards her widowed lord and brother, at the head o£ their respective armies, confronted each other on the field of the Yellow Ford. Towards the close of that memorable action, Hugh, earl of Tyrone—or, to speak more correctly, the O’Neill, —leading a squadron of horse, pricked forward in the hope of encountering his brother-in-law ; but they were not destined to meet. In the confusion of the bloody rout, the marshal was in the act of raising his beaver when a bullet pierced his brain; and thus deprived O’Neill of an opportunity of avenging with his own good sword the injuries and insults which long lay rankling in his heart. Happily for Mabel, she did not live to witness that day of fearful retribution ! “ Now let me hear how you have dealt with the memoranda I gave you of our Drogheda monastery.” Would that the details were more copious,” replied father Purcell; but, such as they are, they will perpetuate the memory of that house.” And he then read : ‘‘ The Franciscan convent of Drogheda was founded by the Plunkets, barons of Louth, 1240, and not, as some have asserted, by the Darcys of Platten ; for the progenitor of the latter family did not come to Ireland till 1323, when he was appointed lord justice by Edward II. The site of this venerable edifice, in the northern division of the town, and diocese of Armagh, was extremely beautiful, being within the walls, and close to quay where ships receive and discharge their cargoes. The land belonging to this convent extended, on the south, from the river’s brink to a street on the declivity of the hill leading te St, Laurence-street, and from a street on the west, near the quay, to the city wall on the east. The ground bestowed on our convent outside the walls, comprised a spacious garden and orchard east of the city; and our friars had a private gate which gave them access to both places. As for the buildings, they were very magnificent; and nothing could exceed the beauty of the bell-tower, which was of cut stone, lofty, and encrusted with marble. The church was very elegant, having a choir capable of accommodating two hundred friars. In the centre of the choir stood the monument of the Darcys of Platten, surmounted by a marble bust of John, the lord justice, who was one of our special benefactors, and whose posterity were all buried within the same precincts. The fact of this monu¬ ment having been one of the most conspicuous objects in the church, led many to suppose that the Darcys were founders of the convent; but, as I have said, the Plunkets are entitled to that honour, although the Darcys frequently repaired the sacred FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 33 edifice, and the eastern window of the church, which was set in the city wall. “ Early in the reign of queen Elizabeth, the Franciscans were violently extruded from their venerable convent, which was then leased to Gerald Aylmer, of Eollardstown, who, in 1612, sold the buildings, together with their appurtenances, to one Moses Hill, a mere adventurer, who came to Ireland a beggar- man, and enriched himself with the plunder of many an honest man’s homestead. This Hill was an implacable persecutor of the Catholics, and an ever-willing instrument in carrying out the detestable policy of king James I. Intent upon his own aggrandizement, he spared no efibrt to add to his ill-got fortunes ; • and no sooner did a convent fall into his hands, than he becran I to remodel the entire structure, so as to accommodate it to the j requirements of shopkeepers and others, from whom he exacted I exorbitant rents. Father Baltassar Helahoyde, an aged I ecclesiastic, and native of Drogheda, who for many years was i vicar-general of the diocese of Armagh, informed me that he [ was an ocular witness of Hill’s sacrilegious vandalism, and en¬ deavours to derive an income from the tenants to whom he let the cloisters and infirmary of the convent, which stood right upon the river’s brink : but, strange to relate, the shopkeepers who settled there, instead of becoming rich, grew poor, and had to give up their holdings ; thus bringing on themselves the curse { pronounced upon those who turn the house of God into a place ' of chaffering and profane traffic. I ‘‘ Seeing that this speculation did not prosper, Hill resolved to pull down the whole edifice, and sell the cut stone of which it was built; but as he could not get any of the townspeople to I carry out his wishes, he employed a number of strangers, at very high wages, to do his bidding. They commenced at the bell-tower, which, as I have already said, was a very beautiful object; but the first stone that was disturbed fell within a few * inches of one of the masons, which so terrified his fellows, that they were all scared away, and refused to continue the work of demolition. A second attempt to destroy the bell-tower was equally unsuccessful; but, in the meanwhile. Hill had pulled j down the infirmary and the guest-house, meaning, as I have heard, to erect on their site a mansion for sir Arthur Chichester, who ' was then lord deputy, in 1614. Chichester approved the pro¬ ject, for he liked the locality; but being suddenly recalled to England, and replaced by Jones, the king’s archbishop of Dublin, the undertaking was abandoned, and Hill lost much ^ money in laying the foundation of an edifice which was never D 34 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE completed. Thus, by the manifest interposition of heaven, the bell-tower and eastern window of our once splendid convent were saved from destruction, while the Test of the sacred edifice was uprooted from the very foundations. Nor did it fare well with Hill, the author of all this sacrilege; for, when I visited Drogheda, in 1615, his wife was sufiering from paralysis, and he himself was abhorred by the whole population. To us Franciscans he was another Heliodorus, desecrating our holy places, persecuting the members of our brotherhood, and laying sacrilegious hands on the consecrated utensils of the sanctuary. So perished the ancient convent of Drogheda. At present (in 1617), notwithstanding the despotism of the deputy, Oliver St. John, we have in that city a community of four friars, who live in a house which they rent, and in which they have erected an altar, pulpit, and confessionals. The secular priests have this house in common with our friars, and they all labour to preserve the faith among the people. As for the Franciscans, they live strictly according to their rule, wear- ino; the habit in their conventual church, recitinoj the office in choir, and regretting heartily that they are obliged to exchange the garb of their holy founder for secular ajoparel when going abroad in the streets. “ A few incidents connected with this little convent—alas, how unlike the stately monastery founded by the Plunkets, on the banks of the historic Boyne !—which occurred under my own eyes, deserve to be recorded to the honour of our friars, and for the edification of future ages. “It was in the year 1610 that father Maurice IJltan O’Dunlevy, hired the house for our four friars in Drogheda; and soon afterwards, when it was noised abroad that the little community possessed some silver utensils for the altar, sir Arthur Chichester, then lord deputy, instructed his myrmidons to watch their opportunity and make a raid upon the house, in order to carry off* the plate. The priest had hardly left the altar, when the rufiians forced their way into the chapel, and made oflf with the vestments, chalice, and ever 3 rthing else that they considered valuable. As for the friars, they escaped by secret passages known only to themselves ; for Chichester’s hirelings were too intent on plunder to think of arresting them. On another occasion, father Francis Helan, an aged man, was seized at the foot of the altar, and dragged into the streets, where the women of Drogheda assailed his captors with a shower of stones. The soldiers would willingly have released their prisoner to save themselves; but the old man, desirous of FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 35 1 i screening the people from Chichester’s vengeance, surrendered himself voluntarily ; and being conducted to Dublin, was arraigned in his habit before Adam Loftus, -the chancellor. The officer of the escort interposed on behalf of father Helan, and generously represented that he had surrendered voluntarily; stating, at the same time, that he, the officer, had never been in so great peril of his life, as from the Drogheda women and their improvised artillery. The chancellor and his confreres laughed heartily on hearing this, but the old priest was flung into prison, where he had to dree six weary months. Ludicrous as the occurrence was, it exacerbated the hostility of the authorities against the good people of Drogheda. It would be tedious to narrate the stratagems to which the government had recourse for the total destruction of priests, seminarists, and friars in Ireland, ever since James I. ascended the throne. The seaports were vigilantly watched by ruffians hired to arrest those whom they supposed to be priests or students going abroad for education; and no one was allowed to come or go without the scrutiny of those wretches. I myself was present on the quay of Drogheda in 1614, when a young priest, a native of Cork, who had just then returned from Flanders, was arrested on suspicion; but as he was in secular apparel, he contrived to get oflf, owing principally to the interference of some bystanders, who said he was a merchant from Cork, of which he was a native. I remember, too, when the lodging of Eugene Mathews, archbishop of Dublin, was entered by a posse of those vile mis¬ creants in quest of his grace, who escaped through a window, and hid himself on the roof of a neighbouring house. I was in the metropolis when that event occurred ; and seeing the house in which I lodged surrounded by a vast crowd, I rushed into the street, and being in secular apparel, mingled with the throng, and thus fortunately eluded my pursuers. ‘‘ Far more memorable was the case of John Stuart, a native of Scotland, and lay-brother of our little community in Drogheda. This excellent man was arrested near Dublin, and committed to the prison of that city, where he was detained for some months. He was subsequently sent to England, and brought before the king, who, as was his wont on all such occa¬ sions, waxed theological, and began to dispute with him about the dogmata of the Church. The poor friar was an illiterate man, but yet he was able enough to expose the sophistry of the royal logic, which was always employed to justify the most absurd paradoxes—one day proving the unlawfulness of smoking tobacco, and when tired of that thesis, strenuously 36 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE maintaining the legality of smoking witches to death. When argument failed, the king had recourse to bribes, for he was very anxious to make a proselyte of a man who bore his own name ; but finding that this sort of persuasion was of no avail, he ordered him to be imprisoned in the tower of London, from which he was liberated after a long detention. Brother Stuart did good service to our community here at Louvain, and re¬ turned to Ireland, where his zeal and fidelity shall not be forgotten, if these poor pages can serve to perpetuate his memory. “ I find,” continued the provincial, that I have not given you my memoranda of the Franciscan house of Dundalk ; and as the volume would be imperfect if it lacked a notice of that convent, I will now- narrate the little that I have gleaned of its vicissitudes. It was founded in the thirteenth century, by John de Yerdon, and was one of the first that was destroyed when Henry YIII. decreed the dissolution of the religious communities. When I visited it, in 1616, nothing remained of the church except the bell-tower, and even that was sadly dilapidated. The entire of the sacred edifice, with its appur¬ tenances, that is to say, about three or four acres of meadow- land, was held by John Brandon, a most respectable denizen of Dundalk, whose grandfather got a lease of the premises in the reign of king Henry. The said John waited on me when I was examining the ruin—alas, not so much the martyr of time as of man’s wrath—and told me that he scrupled holding posses¬ sion of the place without the consent of the friars. I, therefore, for the security of his conscience, laid the whole matter before John Cassel, a native of Dundalk, and syndic of the convent, who, by authority from Home, allowed him to retain the dilapidated walls and the aforesaid acres of land, on the following conditions : First, that he would renounce all right to possession whenever the Franciscans might claim it from him. Secondly, that he should not sell or alienate any portion of the premises, or their appurtenances, without consent of our brotherhood. Thirdly, that he should not sufier any one to do further injury to the place, but save it from decay, and pledge himself not to let any portion of the land to another. Fourthly, that he would give something annually, by way of alms, to our friars, out of the rents which he received from the land. Brandon agreed to these conditions, and indeed he has been faithful to his word. Such conduct deserves to be recorded; and who knows but this poor testimony to true worth may one day meet the eyes of some of his posterity !—who knows but in years to come, some FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 37 of our convents may be re-edified by the very representatives of those who helped to destroy them ! Oh, how joyfully will they who witness that most longed-for consummation exclaim, ‘the children of them that afflicted thee shall come bowing down to thee, and all that slander thee shall worship the steps of thy feet.’ ” * CHAPTER lY. THE MONASTERY AT MULTIFERNAN. Origin of the Kame—Foundation of the INIonastery—The Delamers—The Nugents of Delvin and Donore—The IMonastery plundered and burned hy the English—The Friars imprisoned in the Castle of Ballimore— Escape of Father Mooney—Cruelties perpetrated on the Prisoners— Richard Brady, Bishop of Kilmore—Re-estahlishment of the Friars in Multifernan—Notice of distinguished Members of the Community. “ It will afford me great pleasure,” said father Mooney to his colleague, “ to give you an ample account of the vicissitudes of our once noble convent of Multifernan ; for, indeed, of all our Irish houses, there is not one, that of Donegal excepted, with whose history I am better acquainted. And how could it be otherwise ^ It was in Multifernan I made my novitiate, and ’twas there I hoped to have made my religious profession, till-” “ But, father,” interrupted Purcell, “ I thought you com¬ menced your monastic life in the convent of Donegal.” “ No, dear friend ; ’twas in Donegal I renounced the world, abandoning sword and matchlock ; and no sooner did I avow my intention of devoting myself to the service of God and St. Francis, than our good provincial sent me to Multifernan, to enter on my novitiate. I was then in my twenty-fourth year, strong and active, inured to hardships and privations, having served some time under the banners of O’Neill and O’Donnell, in their campaigns against Elizabeth’s choicest generals. I, too, had my share of martial glory ; for I may say, without any idle self-laudation, that I bore myself as it became a true soldier on many a battlefield, from Clontibret to the Yellow Ford, where the clans of Tyrone and Tirconnell routed the English army under marshal Bagnal. Reminiscences such as these may not beseem a poor disciple of St. Francis, so let me rather proceed to satisfy your inquiries concerning the rise and fall of the monastery of Multifernan. * Isaias, lx., 4. 38 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE “ I need hardly observe that that venerable house, now, alas, a charred and mouldering mass of ruins, stands hard by the river Gain, in the county of Westmeath. Our annals, as well as the traditions of the locality, date its erection in the year 1306, when William Delamer, whose ancestor, Herbert, came to Ireland in the days of Henry II., built the church and con¬ vent to the honour of God, and his chosen patron, St. Francis. As to the meaning of the word Multifernan, it may not be amiss to inform you, that it signifies Fearnan’s Mill; for it appears that an Irish family of that name owned the territory, and had a mill on the Gain, long before the Helamers—or, as they were subsequently styled, in the Irish vernacular, MacHerberts —possessed a single rood in the county of Westmeath. The appellation ‘ Montis Fernandi,’ given to the monastery and village, is doubtless a euphonious latinizing of the primitive Celtic word, and must have been invented by the first guardian of the convent, in his correspondence with the general of our order in Italy. The site which Delamer chose for this monastery, was admirably suited to the contemplative life of its inmates ; for it was in low ground, at a considerable distance from the village, away from frequented thoroughfares, and in the vicinity of the lake of Derreghvera, through which the sweet Inny fiows to join the Shannon. In fact, there is only one road by which the place can be approached—the great highway leading from Mullingar to Longford. The monastery itself was very spacious, capable of afibrding accommodation to a large number of friars, having all requisite appurtenances, such as cloisters, refectory, dormitory, guest-house, library, and chapter-room. The church, which is still surmounted by a graceful belfry, was of exquisite architecture, and amply furnished with all requirements for its sacred purposes. The groined ceilings, panelled choir, and richly-carved altars, bore ample testimony to the devotion of the lordly Delamer and his posterity, who for many centuries were our unfailing benefactors; and, indeed, I may justly style them such, for not satisfied with building the church and con¬ vent, they endowed the latter with many acres of rich land, and empowered our friars to erect mills and weirs on the Gain. Thus did the Delamers* provide for the wants of the com¬ munity ; and, in return for such bountiful munificence, the friars of Multifernan prayed for the souls of their illustrious * The last Irishman who held the hig'h office of Diffinitor-general of the Franciscan order was Francis De la Mer, A.D. 1725. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 39 patrons, preserved their tombs from decay, and took special care to guard against all accident the beautiful south-eastern window of the church, once all ablaze with their armorial cog¬ nizance. “ In progress of time, however, the lands which Delamer won by the sword, lapsed to the no less illustrious family of the Nugents, barons of Delvin, who, like their predecessors, proved themselves constant benefactors and patrons of the friars of Multifernan. How many instances coidd I give you of the fostering protection which the Nugents bestowed on that con¬ vent ! At the time when Henry YIII. decreed the dissolution of the Irish monasteries—especially those in the English Pale —Multifernan, with all its appurtenances, was granted to Edward Field, Patrick Clynch, and Philip Penteney, at a fine of eighty pounds, and the annual rent of four shillings Irish. Yet, notwithstanding this sacrilegious alienation of our vener¬ able house, the friars were not disturbed ; for, owing to the interposition of the barons of Delvin, they still continued to retain possession of the church and monastery. In fact, the Nugents were so devoted to our order, that they always con¬ trived to purchase the monastery and church from the grantees, as they were styled ; who cared far more for a round sum of money than they did for the dispersion of a poor community, or the few acres which they cultivated. The fidelity of the Nugents to the English government in the reign of Elizabeth, enabled them to extend protection to the inmates of Multifer¬ nan ; and although the monastery was frequently garrisoned by English troops, during the war between O’Neill and that queen, it sustained little or no injury from such visiters. Seven years before Elizabeth’s decease, James Nugent, of Donore, died, seised in fee of the manor of Multifernan; and in the succeeding reign, his son Pichard purchased the monastery from alderman Jans of Dublin, to whom it was granted by James the First. This Pichard,* who died in 1615, and was buried in the ancestral tomb in Multifernan, was a great bene¬ factor of our order ; for, not satisfied with repairing the church and monastery, he bestowed additional grants of land, and several costly pieces of altar-plate, on our community. His son Andrew, who succeeded him, was a worthy representative of a sire whose memory shall never perish, if my poor words can transmit it to posterity. “ Let me now relate to you what I myself witnessed during ♦ See Appendix G. 40 , THE RISE AND FALL OF THE my novitiate in Multifernan. In October, 1601, a strong detachment of English soldiers, commanded by Francis Shane, was sent from Dublin by Charles Blount, the then deputy, with instructions to pillage the monastery, and seize the friars. On their march, and within bowshot of the convent, they arrested Richard Brady, bishop of Kilmore, a member of our order; Father John Oray, the provincial; Father James Hayn ; and Bernard Moriarty, dean of Ardagh. On entering the convent, they seized father Nehemias Cray, the guardian, together with five or six other members of the brotherhood; it was then dark night, and we were returning from the church to our cells, when we found ourselves in the hands of the soldiers. In the confusion, some of the friars escaped out of the convent, and sought refuge in the neighbouring woods. As for the bishop, Shane sent him and some others under escort to the castle of Ballimore on Loughshodie, some twelve miles south-west of Mullingar ; while I, the guardian, and a few other members of the community, were detained prisoners in the monastery. Thus were we kept for two days. Shane, indeed, hoped to light on some rich treasure in our poor house, but he was disappointed; for, after searching the entire edifice, he could find nothing save a goodly store of provisions, which was sent to the monastery by the nobility and gentry, who were wont to come thither on the feast of St. Francis, then nigh at hand. This was an old usage in that place, as there were no inns in the neighbourhood. In the meantime, while the soldiers were making merry on the good cheer, never intended for them, I contrived to effect the escape of the guardian and some others; and, indeed, I too might have got off, had I so willed it, but as it was within two days of the time appointed for making my religious profession, I preferred remaining in custody, knowing right well that Shane would send me to the castle on Loughshodie, where the pro¬ vincial was confined. On the expiration of the second day, Shane ordered me and a lay-brother out of the convent, and setting us on horses, sent us prisoners to Ballimore. Alas, I never Avill forget the horrors of that day ; for we had gone hardly a mile when Shane came galloping up, and commanding us to halt, directed our attention to a mass of fire and smoke clearly visible in the distance, exclaiming at the same time, with fiendish malevolence : ‘ Vile poltroons ! see how I have burnt your monastery to the ground.’ Thus, on the 3rd of October, 1601, did that inhuman monster give our venerable house of Multifernan to the flames. With a heavy heart we held on our way to the castle of FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 41 Ballimore ; and as we rode along, Sliane, who did not venture to do me personal harm, waxing jocose, began to banter me about the habit I wore. ^ You,’ said he, ‘ have been a soldier, and you ought to be ashamed of that papistic dress. Cast it off; I don’t ask you to abjure your popery ; but come and take service under our queen, and you may be certain that you will not be forgotten when Blount, our puissant deputy, has crushed O’Neill and O’Donnell. The broad lands of those base traitors shall soon be given to her majesty’s true lieges ; and, assuredly, fingers like yours were better employed with sword or match¬ lock than fumbling a rosary.’ “ Little did I heed the ribaldry of the profane soldier ; and weary as was the road to the castle of Ballimore, it seemed light and pleasant when I reflected that it led to the crowning of my most cherished aspirations. At length we reached our journey’s end, and I had the happiness of finding myself face to face with the bishop of Kilmore, the guardian of Multifernan, father Bernard Moriarty, and some other members of our com¬ munity. They all were astonished at seeing me, for they knew that I could have escaped from the convent had I wished to do so ; but when I explained to them the motives which induced me to remain a prisoner in Shane’s hands, nothing could exceed the joy which each of them evinced. ‘ You know, dear father,’ said I to the provincial, ‘ that the term of my novitiate expires to-day, and that I desire nothing so much on this earth as to be enrolled a poor and humble disciple of St. Francis. If, therefore, you deem me worthy of such an honour, permit me this instant to make my profession.’ “ ‘ What!’ said the venerable bishop, from whose aged eyes the tears streamed fast and hot, ‘ are you prepared to renounce your liberty for the poor habit of our order 1 do you consent to forego the enjoyments of a secular career for a life of penance and mortification 1 You told us that the man into whose power we have fallen has promised you much, provided you would divest yourself of the habit, and betake you to your old profession of arms. Ponder, therefore, what you should do, lest, perhaps, you might one day repent of your precipitancy.’ “ ‘ Most reverend father,’ I replied, ‘ nothing can shake or alter my firm resolution. I have long yearned for this day ; and if it be not presumptuous in one unlettered as I am to make the reflection, I would humbly submit that all the calam¬ ities which have overtaken us of late should be regarded as so many stumbling-blocks cast by Satan across my path, to divert me from the goal for which I have been struggling.’ 42 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE “ ‘ Enough, enough,’ replied the bishop ; ‘ your desire shall be satisfied ; and may heaven help you on the rugged road you have chosen !’ “ I then threw myself on my knees at the provincial’s feet, and in the dim light of the prison-chamber made my profession, and was duly received into the order of St. Francis. Never, never shall I forget the joy I felt on that day; never while I live shall the recollection of that hour fade from my memory. Countless are the splendid functions I have witnessed since then here in Louvain and in Brussels ; but I doubt much if any of them all could equal the solemn rite of my profession in that castle of Loughshodie. Bealize it to your imagination, dear brother ; picture to yourself a young man, in the pleni¬ tude of his strength, kneeling at the feet of an aged bishop and his provincial, both captives for their loyalty to God and the faith of their fathers; and there, in the gloom of that dungeon, pronouncing with unfaltering tongue those irrevocable vows which consecrated him the liege servant of God, and doomed him to the persecution of ruthless laws. ‘‘ The recollection of that crowning moment of my life has made me digress. So let me now relate how it fared with myself and fellow-captives soon after my profession. Young and vigorous as I was, it was only natural that I should think of effecting my escape from the castle of Ballimore ; and I ac¬ cordingly took counsel with father Bernard Moriarty, to whom I communicated the various projects which presented themselves to my mind. He and I were lodged in the same tower every night; and our jailors, acting more from caprice than system, occasionally secured us with a ponderous iron chain. It oc¬ curred to me, then, that we should bide our time, and break prison some night when our limbs were unshackled ; but on proposing this idea to my fellow-sufferer, he would not enter¬ tain it. I next bethought me that we might watch our oppor¬ tunity when the soldiers where out exercising ; bolt the gates against them, and hold the castle till such time as either of the native princes, O’Neill or O’Donnell, then in arms, would send troops to our rescue. This expedient seemed to me very feasible; but, after a careful scrutiny of the premises, I discovered that we had not as much gunpowder or food as would enable us to maintain ourselves in the place for four days. Then again it oc¬ curred to me that such a proceeding would necessarily be attended with bloodshed ; and as my conscience rebuked me for enter¬ taining so hazardous a scheme, I resolved to abandon it. At length I found a quantity of tow, of which the soldiers used to FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 43 make matches for their arquebuses and the falconets mounted . on the ramparts; and I immediately set about twisting it into a rope, by which I might, whenever a favourable moment appeared, let myself down from the window of the tower into the ditch of the castle, and thus regain my liberty. It was idle to think that father Moriarty would adopt my plan, and I therefore did not impart it to him. At last the long-wished-for night came; and commending my soul to God and St. Francis, I fastened one end of the rope to an iron stanchion of the win¬ dow, and gradually lowered myself till I was within ten or twelve feet of the ditch. At this critical moment the strain on the rope caused it to break, and I fell into the ditch, receiving in my rapid descent some trifling bruises from the projecting wall. Fortunately for me the ditch was full of water, which reached above my chest; and still more fortunately the ward on the castle-tower was quite unconscious of what was passing. Nevertheless, I had hardly cleared the ditch when I saw the shadowy flgures of the soldiers running hither and thither in the little camp outside the castle, with blazing torches in their hands, as if alarmed by an unexpected onfall. There was no time to be lost: so, nerving myself for the worst, I made what haste I could; and, although not very well acquainted with the locality, I walked fully ten miles that night, till I reached the house of a friend, who gave me shelter and cordial welcome. Thus was God pleased to deliver me from that stronghold of Ballimore. ‘‘Almost immediately after my escape, Shane resolved to send his remaining prisoners to Dublin castle, for he thought that the Irish princes, O’Neill and O’Donnell, would attempt their rescue. However, as the bishop was far advanced in years, and very feeble, Shane allowed him to take up his abode in the house of a Catholic nobleman, living in the neighbour¬ hood, who pledged his honour that the prelate would present himself to the English authorities in Dublin at the close of winter. The bishop was faithful to his engagement; for he set out for the metropolis about the end of March, and on his arrival was thrown into prison, where he remained till the summer of 1602, when his friends efiected his enlargement by paying a heavy flne. “As to the other prisoners, among whom was my friend father Bernard Moriarty, they were sent under a strong escort to Dublin; but no sooner had they reached the neighbourhood of Multifernan, than they were met by Walter Nugent, standard- bearer to the baron of Delvin, who commanded a company of 44 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE thirty soldiers in the queen’s pay. This valiant young officer demanded the release of the prisoners ; but when that was refused, he and his men attacked the escort, and eventually succeeded in liberating the friars. Unfortunately, however, two other companies of the queen’s troops, on hearing the musketry, came speedily to the scene of action, and overpowered Walter Nugent’s detachment, six of whom lost their lives in the skirmish. The friars were then sent on to the prison of Dublin castle. As for my friend Moriarty, he received a gunshot wound, which fractured both his thighs ; and after lingering a short time in intense agony in a dungeon, where they refused him bed, medical attendance, or any other comfort, he finally surrendered his pure soul to Grod, and was buried in the cemetery of St. James, outside the city wall. Thus terminated the career of this venerable priest, who, in my opinion, deserves to be styled a martyr. He was profoundly versed in civil and canon law, and distinguished himself by his acquirements, when a mere stripling, in Spain. He was dean of Ardagh, archdeacon of Clonmacnoise ; and when Matthew de Oviedo succeeded to the archbishopric of Dublin, he appointed my lamented friend his vicar-general. “ Meanwhile the provincial and another priest remained in custody, and I need hardly tell you that I spared no effort to obtain their enlargement. My exertions were finally crowned with success ; for, on representing the matter to the princes ' O’Neill and MacMahon, they willingly exchanged two English prisoners of war, then in their hands, for my two reverend confreres. Elated by this favourable turn in our affairs, I assembled as many of our friars as had survived such a sad series of calamities, and exhorted them to join me in re-establishing our¬ selves in Multifernan. They one and all adopted my views; and owing to our untiring efforts, we contrived to erect, before the festival of the Nativity, 1601, a small dwelling-house within the ruins of our burnt monastery. In the following year, how¬ ever, father Nehemias Gray, our guardian, resolved to repair, as far as he could, the church and the monastery; and he there¬ fore procured a large quantity of timber from the barony of Garrycastle, in order to roof one of the chapels and a portion of the ancient dwelling house. The undertaking j)rospered beyond our expectations; but scarcely were the partial restor¬ ations completed, when a body of English troops, commanded by Francis Rochfort, came suddenly upon us, and mercilessly burnt down every inch of the work on which we had expended FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 45 so much toil. As for the friars, some saved themselves by flight, and others were carried off to Dublin, where they were thrown into prison. The bishop of Kilmore was among those whom Rochfort arrested on that occasion; but as he was decrepid, and unable to walk or stand, they flung him into a brake of briars, and there left him, as they thought, dead. Notwithstanding this second demolition of our poor house, the friars returned to Multifernan as soon as they were released from prison ; and even now, despite unrelenting persecution, we have there a community of eighteen, including lay-brothers, who reside in cabins which they raised within our ancient pre¬ cincts. Lest, however, their names or memories should be forgotten, I would have you know that, of all our enemies, none were more cruel than sir Dudley Loftus, sir Richard Drear, Patrick Pox, high sheriff of Westmeath, and sir Oliver Lambert, formerly jiresident of Connaught. As for Loftus, he came accompanied by the said Crear to Multifernan, and carried ofi* five of our brethren to Dublin; where, after being detained in custody eighteen months, they were ultimately released, on pledging themselves to appear whenever it pleased the authorities to summon them. This occurred, as well as I remember, in 1607. In 1613, Fox came stealthily on our poor friars, and arrested, among others, father Bernard Cray, who, after a year’s imprison¬ ment, was suffered to seek refuge in France, where he died of disease contracted in the dungeon of Dublin castle. In the following year, sir Oliver Lambert came with a company of soldiers to Multifernan, seized the few friars he found there, and committed them prisoners to the jail of Mullingar. Never¬ theless, as I said before, Multifernan has never lacked a com¬ munity of Franciscans, for whose maintenance we are mainly indebted to the illustrious house of Nugent, and the unfailing charity of the Catholics residing in the neighbourhood and throughout Westmeath. “ But as these reminiscences of Multifernan would be imper¬ fect without some notice of the most distinguished members of our order, whose society and friendship it was my happiness to enjoy there, I will now furnish you with a few particulars which I think deserve to be recorded. Let me, therefore, begin with Richard Brady, bishop of Kilmore, whose virtues and suf¬ ferings should never be forgotten by the future historian of our calamitous times. “ That illustrious individual sprang from the noble house of his name, which, for many an age, ruled with princely sway in 46 THE EISE AND FALL OF THE Breffny-0’E,eilly. At a very early period of his life he distin¬ guished himself as a jurist, for indeed he was profoundly versed in the canon and civil law. Eamily influence and talents such as his would, doubtless, have raised him to eminence had he chosen a secular career; but, caring little for the fame or fortune which he might have won so easily in the senate or in the forum, he renounced the world, and took our poor habit in the convent of Cavan. His piety, learning, and prudence were the theme of every tongue; and although he never left Ireland or sought for himself any dignity, the supreme pontiff promoted him to the bishopric of Ardagh, on the 23rd of January, 1576. Resigning that diocese, he was translated to the see of Kilmore, and held the office of vice-primate after the death of Raymond O’Gallagher, bishop of Derry, who was slain by the English in 1601. It may not be superfluous to inform you, that during the vacancy of the see of Armagh, or the absence of its metropolitan, the office of mce-primate has, according to immemorial custom, de¬ volved on the senior suffragan of the province. Thus, O’Gallagher succeeded to that dignity when Edmund MacGauran fell in an action fought by McGuire, prince of Fermanagh, against the troops commanded by Bingham, president of Connaught; and when the bishop of Kilmore departed this life, Cornelius O’Deveny, the martyred bishop of Down and Connor, filled the vacant place. I have deemed it necessary to make these remarks lest such a venerable usage should ever be forgotten. Row let me resume my narrative of our bishop’s life. He dwelt constantly in Multifernan, and never left it, except on the business of his diocese, when he always preferred such accommodation as he could find in some house of our order to the comforts and hos¬ pitality which he might have received from the Catholic nobility and gentry. During his residence among us, he invariably wore the habit, partook of such fare as our poor refectory afforded, and never dined apart from the common table of the friars, ex¬ cept when strangers were entertained in the guest-house. His entire retinue consisted of his confessor, chaplain, and two boys, who attended him when saying Mass. I had frequent oppor¬ tunities of witnessing the austerities he practised; and can vouch that Franciscan never lived who took greater delight in obeying the rigid ordinances of our holy founder. Even when broken down by old age and infirmities, he could not be induced to wear a coarse linen shirt; and, despite all remonstrances of our friars, he rejected any little luxuries we could procure for him, graciously thanking those who offered them, and saying, at the same time, that he had chosen a life of mortification, and FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 47 would die as he had lived. He, as I have already told you, was arrested three times by the English authorities, who, on two occasions, set him at large on payment of a heavy fine ; but on the last they tore the habit off his aged person, and left him for dead in a thicket. Towards the close of his days he resigned the see of Kilmore, and finally departed this life, September, 1607. In compliance with his wishes, we interred him in the usual burial place of the friars, that is [to say, in the cloister, and right under the door leading to the church. “Another remarkable personage who entered our community of Multifernan, about the time of the bishop’s decease, was Andrew Nugent, a member of the illustrious house to whom we owe so much. This gentleman was for a long time anxious to take our poor habit ; but, as he was married, he could not be received till his wife died. On her decease, however, he entered as a lay-brother; and, during the five or six years he survived, he was an exemplar of every virtue that might be expected from a sincere follower of St. Francis. Having completed his seven¬ tieth year, he died in 1614, and was buried with his brethren. “A few of my old confreres are still living, after having passed through the fiery ordeal of persecution. Among them is father James Hayn, who, when a very young man, was sent by Gregory XIII. with a consecrated banner to James Fitzmaurice, when he entered on that campaign in which he laid down his life for religion and country. This reverend father, now in his ninetieth year, was among those arrested by Shane at the first burning of Multifernan. At a subsequent period, when Fochfort invaded our precincts, father Hayn received three severe wounds, and was committed to a dark cell in the castle of Dublin. Owing to the humanity of a fellow-prisoner, he recovered and was finally set at large. He is now living at Multifernan. Father John Gray, whom I mentioned before, was again arrested in 1608, together with the baron of Delvin, on a charge of having aided the flight of the princes O’Neill and O’Donnell. As soon, however, as the baron cleared himself of complicity in that transaction, father Gray was dismissed, and suffered to pass the remainder of his days in the neighbourhood of Multifernan. “Two others are still in prison, namely, father Charles Crassan and father Didacus Corny, who were arrested by Daniel, the king’s archbishop of Tuam, in 1617, when questing alms for their brethren of Multifernan. I have now detailed to you all that I know of that venerable monastery, where persecution raged against us, and where our brethren comported themselves with heroic fidelity that should never be forgotten. Let me 48 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE add that father Maurice Ultan is at present guardian of the community.” Neither should I omit mentioning that sir Arthur Chichester, in a letter to lord Salisbury, dated, “Dublin, 11th May, 1610,” speaks of Multifernan, and of our late venerable provincial, O’Mullarkey,'^ who was chaplain to the unfortunate sir Cahir O’Doherty, in that memorable year, and disarmed the English captain who strove to arrest him :— “ A priest and a friar were the late traitor 0’Doherty’s chief counsellors in betraying Derry, Culmore, and Doe Castle. One of them they lately apprehended, by disguising themselves, as- he was saying Mass, at Multifarnham; and as they were carry¬ ing him before a justice of the peace, the country rose upon them and rescued him from the parties employed, and hurt them, notwithstanding they showed them his (Chichester’s) warrant, and told them he was a proclaimed traitor. By this,” concludes the blood-boltered deputy, “ you may perceive their boldness and what hope they have to restrain them other than the sword; for, put all these offenders and the friar himself (if they had him) to be tried by a jury, they will acquit him.” O’Mullarkey, thank heaven, escaped to Spain, where he wrote an account of O’Doherty’s ill-starred uprising. I believe that the work is still in manuscript. CHAPTEB Y. MONASTERIES OF KILCREA AND TIMOLEAGUE. Church and Monastery of Kilcrea—Its beautiful Site and Architecture— The 'romh of MacCarthy of Muskerry—The Church and JMonastery phindered in 1584—Again in 1599 - Fathers MacCarthy and O’Sullivan —Church and JMonastery of Tirnoleague—Plundered and damaged hy English soldiers, who are cut to pieces by O’Sullivan, prince of Bear— l.yons, Protestant Bishop of Cork, dilapidates Timoleague—Persecutes the Catholics. “None of our Munster monasteries,” resumed the provincial, “ were more famous than those of Kilcrea and Timoleague ; and having made a pilgrimage to both, some years ago, I took good care to collect every particular relating to their foundation and fall. Centuries hence, the notices I now give you may help to throw light on a dark and tempestuous period of our history; and I would fain persuade myself, should it please God to restore those sanctuaries to their rightful owners, that you and I shall * See “ Flight of the Earls,” second edition, page 302. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 49 not be forgotten when the altars have been re-erected, and matin and vesper song resounds as of old, in choir, chancel, and cloister, now, alas, desecrated by art-destroying heretics.” The memorabilia you are giving me,” observed father Purcell, “ make a goodly volume; and who knows but it may yet fall into the hands of some one who will turn it to account, and make future generations familiar with the vicissitudes of our venerable houses.” Doubtless,” replied the provincial; “and you may be assured that a time will come—be the fate of our houses what it may— when the historian and antiquarian will thank us for having saved even fragments of our monastic records from oblivion. I would fain persuade myself that the Irish Franciscan monas¬ teries will yet revert to the uses for which they were founded; but even though that wish never may be gratified, and those venerable piles should totter into shapeless ruin, rank weeds growing out of their altars, mournful ivy clothing their mullions, gables, corbels, and bell-towers; no tenant in their chancels, cloisters, or choirs, save the skulking wolf and the screeching owl—even so, you and I shall not have laboured in vain; for the volume we leave behind us will tell generations yet to come what those* monasteries were in the days of their splendour; what pious munificence founded them; what saints, sages, and warriors lie buried in their vaults; and, alas that I should have lived to witness it, what unparalleled sacrilege desecrated their shrines, and drove their pious inmates houseless and homeless on the world. You and I have reason to be thankful for the hospitality we have received in a foreign clime; and, indeed, we would be ingrates if we omitted to record that Albert and Isabella provided shelter for Irish friars, when king James, the degenerate son of a truly Catholic mother—true even to the death—banned and persecuted them, as though they were the opprobrium of mankind. “ I will now relate to you all that I have learnt concerning the monasteries of Kilcrea and Timoleague, and let me com¬ mence with the former. Of all the Irish princes, none ruled with kinglier sway than did the MacCarthys, lords of Muskerry. Their martial prowess was famed in the songs of bards, their lineage was traced to progenitors who sailed with Milesius from Spain to Ireland, and their strong castles studded the banks of the Bandon from Knocknanavon to Kinsale. Nor were they less famed for their piety and devotedness to our holy founder, St. Francis, as Kilcrea, even in its ruins, will testify to future ages. The founder of that venerable house was Corniac Mac- E 50 THE KISE AND FALL OF THE Carthy, lord of Miiskerry, wlio erected it, under the invocation of St. Brigid, for Franciscans, A.D. 1465. The site selected for the monastery was very beautiful, away from the tumult of the world and close to the sweet river Bride. The church was admirably constructed of the finest materials, and nothing could excel the exquisite workmanship of the nave and choir, from which springs a graceful bell-tower of considerable height. Bich . marbles, finely-turned windows, and a beautiful arcade forming one side of a chapel, still show that Cormac, lord of Muskerry, was a man gifted with a high appreciation of art, aiid, as I have already said, with true devotedness to our order. In the chancel, and close to the grand altar, he caused a tomb to be constructed for himself, and he was interred there in 1495, having been slain by his own brother and nephews. The same tomb contains the mortal remains of many of his race, all of whom were distinguished for their martial prowess, but none more so than his son, Cormac, who defeated the Geraldines in the celebrated battle fought near the abbey of Mourne. The inscription on the founder’s tomb is worth preserving, and runs thus:—‘Hie Jacet Cormac, Filins Thadei, F. Cormac, F. Hermitii magni MacCarthy Dominus de Musgraige, ac istius conventus primus fundator. A.I). 1495.’ The Barrets, and many other noble families, selected Kilcrea as their burial-place, and their tombs are still there; for they spared no efibrt to preserve the sacred edifice from the ravages of the English troops during the wars with the Geraldines and the Ulster princes. The entire of the buildings, including the monastery, which is of no con¬ siderable magnitude, is to this day in very good condition, and lacks nothing but friars, who are not allowed to inhabit their ancient abode, since Dermot MacCarthy, who basely abjured the religion of his glorious ^progenitors, had a grant of the place from sir Arthur Chichester, lord deputy, on condition that he would not suffer the Franciscans to return, or let his lands to any but Protestants. Nevertheless, some of our friars live among the people in the neighbourhood, and are supported by the bounty of the Barrets and others, who, as I have already said, are very anxious to preserve the monastery and its church from dilapidation. Whilst I was at Kilcrea, the particulars I am now about to give you were related to me by trustworthy persons, and I am sure that you will think them worth re¬ cording. “In 1584—the year after O’Moriarty had compassed the cruel murder of the great earl of Desmond—a company of English soldiers, marauding through the district, entered the monastery i JI ...u 1U.I. i II_ 4.1 I FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 51 and cliurcli of Kilcrea, intent on plunder. Those miscreants, unawed by the sanctity of the place, demolished the statues and paintings, and laid their sacrilegious hands on the sacred utensils. At that time, the church possessed a beautiful representation of the crucifixion, a rare work of art, indeed; for at each extremity of the cross there was a beautiful medallion of the evangelists, exquisitely wrought in gold and silver. Stimulated by a desire to seize the precious metal, the soldiers began to quarrel among themselves, and in this brawl they turned their swords against each other’s breasts, till two of them fell mortally wounded, one of them dying that very night, and the other the next morning. The gold and silver glutted the impious greed of the survivors, and that noble work of art was lost to the convent for ever. ‘‘In 1599, when the lord deputy Essex marched against the remnant of the Geraldines, Kilcrea was again invaded by English soldiers, who scared away the friars, and killed father Mathew O’Leyn, at the very moment he was endeavouring to effect his escape by fording the Bride. He was a man remarkable for the holiness of his life, and had then entered on his sixty-seventh year. “Nor should I omit mentioning a very remarkable member of this convent, whose history deserves special notice. The 2 )erson to whom I allude was Eelix MacCarthy, who, during the Geraldine war, distinguished himself by his charity and hospi¬ tality to all, friends as well as foes. One day, having an alter¬ cation with his brother, Felix allowed himself to be carried away by passion, and in his fury stabbed the unfortunate youth to death. Overwhelmed with remorse, he resolved to renounce the world; and having obtained a dispensation from the irregu¬ larity, he earnestly begged, and finally received, the habit of our order, thenceforth devoting himself entirely to the service of God.^' He subsequently was ordained priest, and living to a great old age, all the nerves of his fingers, those of the index and thumb of either hand excepted, became so paralyzed, that he could make no use of them. His brethren of Kilcrea, how¬ ever, and indeed every one else, regarded this as a singular manifestation of God^s mercy, since he allowed this devout penitent the use of the four fingers which are emi^loyed at the holy sacrifice of the Mass. “Another highly-gifted member of the brotherhood of Kil¬ crea, was father Thaddeus O’Sullivan, whose powers as a preacher won him fame in every region of Ireland. During the terrible * An incident and expiation of similar character will be in the memory of those who have read Manzoni’s “ Promessi Sposi.” 52 THE EISE AND FALL OF THE commotions attending the wars of the great earl of Desmond, this venerable priest was wont to follow the Irish troops into the woods, where great licentiousness prevailed; and, indeed, his eloquent exhortations not only kept alive the faith in the souls of those who heard him, but prevented many a bloody deed in those disastrous times. During one of his charitable missions he fell sick and died, and the people who loved him so well would fain convey his corpse to the monastery of Kilcrea. This, however, was a dangerous undertaking; for at that time all Munster was garrisoned by the English troops, and the people ran risk of death if they appeared abroad in daylight. At length some who were thoroughly acquainted with the by-roads resolved to place the remains on a horse, and set out after night¬ fall for the monastery; but losing their way in the darkness, they were about to retrace their steps, when one of the party said, ^Let us leave the horse to himself, and he will certainly carry his burden to its destination.’ Adopting this suggestion, they followed the horse all that night, and next morning they found themselves within the ^^recincts of the monastery, where the remains of father O’Sullivan were interred in the cloister at the door of the chapter-room, December, 1597. This venerable father of our monastery of Kilcrea had very many escapes from the English during the Munster wars; and if his memory re¬ quired any further commendation, it would suffice to state that he was the bosom friend of MacCraghe, bishop of Cork, who consulted him on all matters of importance, and was always guided by his counsels. I have nothing further to add to this brief account of that venerable monastery; so let us now talk of Timoleague. “ That village is situated in the barony of Barryroe, in the county of Cork, and close to a little harbour formerly much frequented by Spaniards, who carried on a considerable trade with the Irish, taking in exchange for their rich wines, hides, fish, wool, linen cloth, skins of squirrels, and other native products. I have not ascertained exactly by whom the convent was founded, for some assert that it was erected by William Barry, while others maintain, and perhaps with good reason, that we are indebted for it to the pious munificence of Daniel MacCarthy, prince of Carbery. Be that as it may, there can be little doubt that the actual convent was built about the year 1320, on the site of an ancient house once inhabited by St. Mologa, from whom the surrounding district takes its name. The church was, indeed, a splendid edifice; having a spacious choir, aisle, lateral wing, and magnificent bell-tower—a remark- FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 53 Rble feature in all our Irish churches—rising to a height of nigh seventy feet. The cloister was very beautiful; square, richly arcaded, and covered with a platform, on which there was a suite of apartments, comprising chapter-room, refectory, and the guardian’s ample chamber. Along with these the convent had ' its dormitory, kitchen, cellars, and other appurtenances, which made it one of the noblest houses of our order in Ireland, In the choir of the church is the tomb of Donald MacCarthy, who is supposed to have been the founder; and there yet remain many other monuments of the O’Donovans, O’Heas, and De Courceys, lords of Kinsale. One of that noble family, Edmund, bishop of Eoss, a member of our brotherhood, was a great bene¬ factor to the church and convent; for, owing to the munificence of his nephew, James, lord Kinsale, he rebuilt the bell-tower, dormitory, infirmary, and library; and at his death, which occurred in 1518, he bequeathed to us many valuable legacies of altar-plate and books. He, Avith many of his ancestors, is interred in the church of Timoleague. “ When I visited the place, the entire edifice was still stand¬ ing, though sadly in need of repairs ; for, indeed, it had sufiered much from the ruthless vandalism of the English soldiers, and also from the sacrilegious rapacity of William Lyons, heretic bishop of Cork, and one Hanmer, an Anglican minister, of whom I will have occasion to speak hereafter. During the late war, a body of English soldiers, consisting of a hundred infantry and fifty horse, halted before Timoleague, and, entering the church, began to destroy the beautiful stained-glass Avindows, and the various pictures about the altar, notwithstanding the entreaties of the people, who strove to dissuade them. It so happened that the carpenter whom our friars employed to look after the repairs of the sacred edifice, was present on this occasion, and, seeing the impiety of those creedless cut-throats, he addressed himself to our holy founder thus : ‘ St. Francis, in whose honour this house was built, I know that thou art all-powerful with God, and canst obtain from him Avhatsoever thou askest: now, I solemnly swear, that I will never do another day’s work in this monastery, if thou dost not take speedy vengeance on those sacrilegious wretches who have desecrated thy holy place.’ And, indeed, it would appear that the poor man’s prayer was soon heard; for, on the folloAving day, when the soldiers had struck their tents, after doing such serious damage to the church and monastery, they were encountered by Daniel O’Sullivan, prince of Bear, who, with the small force then under his command, fell upon them. 54 THE EISE AND FALL OF THE and cut them to pieces. Of their entire number only one escaped.* “ The Anglican minister whom I mentioned, destroyed the dormitory in 1596 ; for he came in a small vessel to Timoleagne, in order to procure timber for a house which he was building- near Cork ; and having learned that the friars’ cells were wain¬ scoted with oak, elaborately carved, he pulled asunder the rich woodwork, and placed it aboard the vessel. But his sacrilege was duly avenged ; for the ship had hardly put to sea when a gale sprang up, and sent it with its freight to the bottom. “ Lyons, the heretic bishop, as I have already told you, was an unrelenting enemy to our convent of Timoleagne, and never spared that beautiful house, when he required building materials. In 1590, having commenced building a mill, he and his retainers made a descent on the mill belonging to our friars, which stood on the Arrighideen, and carried oft" the cut stones and machinery, which he re-erected in his own neighbourhood. Soon after¬ wards, however, an inundation swept away all his worlc ; and many who witnessed the fact attributed it to the indignation of heaven. ‘‘ Many and many a heartrending tale could I relate to you of Lyons’s implacable hatred to the Catholics, and our poor friars in particular. In 1595 he was appointed a commissioner to outroot the Irish population from their homesteads in Mun¬ ster, and plant English in their pleasant fields. How any man, and particularly one calling himself a Christian bishop, could undertake such a work, appears unintelligible ; but, assuredly, a fitter instrument could not have been chosen by queen Elizabeth than that remorseless tyrant. Even in his extreme V old age he persecuted the Catholics with fire and sword ; and it was not till he felt the hand of God heavy upon him that he desisted, as will appear from what I am going to tell you. On the Christmas-eve of 1612, word was brought him that the people all round Timoleagne were to assemble in the convent to assist at midnight Mass; and no sooner was he made aware of this than he resolved to set out, attended by a posse of ruffians who usually accompanied him, to disperse the friars and congregation. Hardly, however, was he outside Cork when he was seized with a sudden illness, which so alarmed his companions that they besought him to return home. Heedless of their remonstrances he alighted from liis horse, and wrapping himself in warmer clothing, mounted again, intent on his /See Appendix H. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 55 bloody mission. God, however, baffled him ; for, a few hours afterwards, the intensity of the pain compelled him to retrace his steps to Cork. Ever since then, for he is still living, he has become somewhat forbearing. Let me not forget to mention, that among those who await the resurrection within the hallowed precincts of Timoleague, lies Eugene MacEgan, bishop-elect of Loss, who, when acting as chaplain to the Catholic troops com¬ manded by Daniel O’Sullivan, in 1602, was mortally wounded by the English, and died on the field, of battle. He, in sooth, was a man of great promise, having been educated in Lome, whence he had just then returned. O’Sullivan and the sept of the MacCarthys had his remains conveyed to Timoleague, where they buried him in the cloister, just at the north-western angle, and under a little cross which they set in the wall to mark the resting-place of one who was faithful to his God and country. Such are the few memorabilia that I have gathered concerning Kilcrea and Timoleague, and I trust that they will be of use ages after you and I shall have passed away.” CHAPTER YI. FRANCISCAN CONVENTS OF MOYNE, ROSSERRICK, AND KILCONNELL. The Franciscan monasteries of the west of Ireland, and par¬ ticularly those of Moyne, Rosserrick and Kilconnell,” resumed the provincial, deserve to have a chapter especially devoted to their history ; for, indeed, they once ranked among the most famous houses of our order either at home or abroad. I visited each of them in the year 1606, and lost no opportunity of collecting on the spot every incident relating to their foundation and fall. Let us, therefore, save from oblivion a record which, in time to come, will be appreciated by the pilgrim and antiquarian when they visit those hallowed places, now, alas, desecrated and wrested from their rightful owners.” ‘‘ I have heard,” said father Purcell, “ that the Franciscans had many establishments in the west of Ireland ; but I thought none of them could compare with those of Donegal, Multifernan, Timoleague, or Kilcrea-” “ On that head,” interrupted the provincial, “ your judg¬ ment has deceived you; for the chieftains of Connaught were most munificent benefactors of our order ; and the churches and monasteries which they erected for us were nowise inferior 56 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE to those for which we are indebted to the piety of the native princes of the north and south. The Anglo-Norman nobles of the Pale built many a fair and spacious monastery for Francis¬ cans ; but, assuredly, their veneration for our institute could not have been greater than that which the De Burgos, O’Kellys, and Joyces ever evinced for our poor habit and rigid rule. The De Burgos, I admit, entered Ireland as invaders ; but in time they became more Irish than the Irish themselves ; mingling their blood with that of the aboriginal magnates, the O’Flahertys, O’Dowds, and other princely families, each and all of whom have undeniable claims to our gratitude. You have not been in Connaught, and I greatly fear that my poor description will not enable you to realize more than a faint idea of the magnifi¬ cent monasteries^—mao-nificent even in their ruins—which the O De Burgos and O’Kellys erected and endowed for us in that province, v.^here, until these disastrous times, they lived and reigned with all but kingly state. Take your pen, therefore, and follow me while I dictate, as well as I can, the history of the monastery of Moyne, as I have learned it from ancient records, and also from the lips of those who witnessed its latest vicissitudes. “In the year 1460, Nehemias O’Donoghoe, the first pro¬ vincial-vicar in Ireland of the Observantine order of St. Francis, memorialed Mac William Burke to grant him a piece of land in Tyrawley, whereon he might erect a monastery for a community of the reformed order of Franciscans. MacWilliam gave will¬ ing ear to the provincial’s prayer, and told him he was at liberty to elect any site he liked, within the borders of his territory, for the church and convent he was about to build. Indeed, MacWilliam could not refuse any request coming from such a man as the provincial O’Donoghoe, for he was famed throughout all Ireland as an eloquent preacher, and friar of most exemplary life; so much so, that his name is recorded with special praise in the Booh of Adare. After examining various localities within the limits of MacWilliam’s principality, O’Donoghoe pitched on a spot in the barony of Tyrawley, a short distance from the ancient episcopal city of Killala; and no sooner had he made the selection, than MacWilliam, accompanied by his subordinate chieftains, warriors, bards, and brehons, proceeded to lay the first stone of the new church and monastery. No words of mine could adequately describe the beauty of the site which the provincial chose for the buildings; let it suffice to tell you that it was a sweet verdant plain, crowning a gentle eminence, at whose foot the silvery Moy discharges its waters FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 57 into tlie bay of Killala, right opposite a sandy ridge, called by the natives of the place the island of Bertragh or Bertigia. Within an incredibly short time willing hearts and sturdy hands raised the church and monastery from the foundations; and, in the year 1462, Donatus O’Connor, bishop of Killala, consecrated the new church under the invocation of St. Francis. The ex¬ quisite beauty of the architecture of both church and monastery, was the theme of every tongue; and the rich display of orna¬ mentation in the tracery of the windows, and the coupleted pillars of the cloister, even to this day, attest that the men who executed the work were thoroughly skilled dn their craft, and enthusiastic cultivators of art in its every department. The entire of the edifice, even to the very altars, was constructed of oolite, or that stone so like marble which is composed of petrified sea-shells; and what is no less remarkable, the mortar used in the building was made of burnt shells, which, as the fact proves, is the most binding description of cement that can be found. In sooth, it was a beautiful and spacious building, that most solemn church near the mouth of the Moy; and oh, how this poor old heart throbs when I recall the glorious prospect which presented itself to my eyes when first I ascended the massive square tower, ninety feet high, that springs from the gable ends, forming the choir and nave of that holy edifice ! There was the great Atlantic rolling its crested billows against the granitic headlands; and from the same eminence I could see the time¬ worn belfry of the ancient cathedral of Killala, and that old round tower, whose origin and use must ever remain shrouded in mystery. Never, never shall the impressions of that splendid prospect fade from my memory. ‘‘ As soon as the building of the church and monastery was completed, Mac William caused the entire to be enclosed with a strong stone wall, and he also endowed the friars with some acres of good pasturage, and empowered them to erect mills for grinding corn, and also sundry ponds in order that they might never want fish. Nor should I omit to mention that there is within the said enclosure a never-failing sj^ring of wholesome limpid water, which sweeps so impetuously to the sea, that the mills could never be idle when there was corn to be ground. Apart from the picturesque, surely never was site more happily chosen for a convent of our order. Ships, heavily laden, dis¬ charged their cargoes almost under the windows of the infirmary ; and, when the tide ebbed, one might walk, dry-shod, to the island of Bertragh. In fact there was no commodity of life wanting to our friars, as long as they were allowed to live 58 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE peaceably in Moyne. Their gardens and orchards supplied them with vegetables and fruit; their ponds with fish; the beach Avith Crustacea; the island of Bertragh with succulent rabbits; and, as for wine, did not the Spanish caravels come freighted with it into the neighbouring harbour of Killala 1 It has been asserted—I know not on what authority-—that the church and convent of Moyne Avere founded by the Barrets, before the latter were driven out by the De Burgos ; and others have affirmed, that father Nehemias O’Donoghoe merely took possession of the place in obedience to a mandate of po^ie ISTicholas Y. In my opinion, neither of these statements is true; and I am sustained in Avhat I have said of the founder, and the date of the foundation, by various ancient records, which I have examined carefully. As for Hehemias O’Donoghoe, his death is recorded in the Book of Adare as having occurred in the year 1500. “ Like the monastery of Donegal, and other houses of our institute in Ireland, Moyne possessed a valuable library, for it was during a century and a-half the iwovincial school, which all the aspirants of our habit were wont to frequent. Hence, in times anterior to the dissolution of the religious houses, the community of Moyne never numbered less than fifty friars, including priests, professors in the A'arious departments of litera¬ ture, students, and lay-brothers. In the crypts of Moyne are interred many of the great families of Tir-eragh and Tirawley, whose gorgeous monuments I have seen in the church. The O’Dowds,* once potent lords of the fair lands extending from the river Bobe to the Codnagh, at Drumcliff, now moulder in the vaults of Moyne, side by side Avith the De Burgos, the Barrets, and the Lynotts, whose fore¬ fathers came from Wales to Tirawley, in the evil days of Dermod MacMurrough. Indeed, so devoted Avere the O’DoAvds to the order of St. Francis, that many and many a chief of that martial race renounced the Avorld for the austerities of Moyne, and died there in the habit of our order. Thus, in 1538, Owen O’Dowd, after having been thirty years chief of his name, died a mortified brother, in that venerable monastery; and at a later period, another Owen O’DoAvd, a chieftain far-famed for many a warlike deed, and his wife, Sabia, daughter of Walter de Burgh, were interred in the same ancestral sepulchre. “ In the thirty-seventh year of the reign of queen Elizabeth, one Edmond Barret had a grant of the monastery and all its * See Appendix I. FKANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 59 appurtenances, to hold the same for ever, at an annual rent of five shillings per aimum ; but when I visited the place in 1606, I found that it was in possession of an English widow, who let the church and a few cells of the monastery to six of our friars. Be it told to the honour of the most noble Thomas de Burgh, that he not only contributed to the maintenance of the little community, but also paid annually the sum for which the friars rented the place from the widow. The whole neighbourhood was then thickly planted with English and Scotch settlers ; and although I appeared among them in the habit of my order, they gave me a cordial welcome; and, as far as I could learn, they invariably treated the friars with marked kindness. This, however, was not from a love of our religion, but from sheer wordly prudence ; for as those Scotch and English settlers carried on an extensive trade in fish and other commodities with the natives, they knew right well that they were only consulting their own interests by suffering the friars to live there unmolested, as the people of the whole district, for many miles round, were in the habit of resorting to the monastery on Sundays and holidays. In a word, to drive away the friars would have been to sacrifice the gains on which those greedy adventurers were so intent. I found both church and monas¬ tery in good condition ; for the people, notwithstanding all they had to suffer, contributed generously towards the repairs of the edifice. “ But heartrending, indeed, were the accounts which I heard from some of the old people, who had witnessed the atrocities perpetrated by the English soldiers within the precincts of the church and monastery, during queen Elizabeth’s reign, when Edward Fitton was president of Connaught. I give you the story as I heard it, for I think that incidents of the sort should be transmitted to posterity. ‘ “ In the year, 1577, a detachment of Fitton’s soldiers gar¬ risoned the convent; and having made prisoners of some dis¬ tinguished individuals, supposed to be disaffected to the queen, they threatened one of them with instant death if he did not reveal a conspiracy, in which they said he was implicated. The accused denied that he was cognizant of any plot; and no sooner had he made this declaration than the English com¬ mander ordered him to be hung. At this terrible crisis, the prisoner implored permission for one of our friars to hear his confession, and the request was granted by the commanding officer, who fancied that he would be able to induce the confessor to reveal the secrets of the doomed man. In this, hoAv- €0 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE ever, lie was disappointed ; and when lie found that he could not persuade the priest to violate the sacramental seal, he caused him to he put to death within the very precincts of the church. I had the account of this flagitious transaction from some who were eye-witnesses of it, and who, as they had assisted at the execution, came to me begging absolution and penance. “ On another occasion, that is to say, 1578, it was notifled to the community of Moyne, that a marauding party of the English was about to make a raid on the monastery; and on hearing this, the friars resolved to save their lives by making out to sea in boats that were moored hard by. A venerable lay-brother, however, named Felix O’Hara, refused to quit the place, alleging that the English would not harm one so aged as he, and that his presence might induce them to respect the holy place. At length the soldiers arrived, plundered the church, and then made ofi* with their booty. After some time had elapsed, the friars returned to Moyne; and on entering the church, found O’Hara dead, and bathed in his blood, on the steps of the grand altar, where the sacrilegious miscreants had wantonly murdered him. So much for the venerable monastery of Moyne, which, I trust in God, will one day revert to its rightful owners. “ A few miles south-east of Killala, Eosserrick, another of our monasteries, sees itself reflected in the waters of the Moy. It was founded early in the fifteenth century, by a chieftain of the Joyces, a potent family, of Welsh extraction, singularly remarkable for their gigantic stature, who settled in West Connaught, in the thirteenth century, under the protection of the O’Elahertys. Eosserrick occupies the site of a primitive Irish oratory, and the place derives its name from Searka^ a holy woman, who is said to have blessed the Ross, or promon¬ tory, that runs out into the river. The site, indeed, was happily chosen, and the entire edifice is an exquisite specimen of the architect’s skill. The church and monastery are built of a compact blueish stone, and the former is surmounted by the graceful square bell-tower, so peculiar to all our Irish Francis¬ can houses. The view from the summit of that campanile is truly enchanting; and as for the internal requirements of such an establishment—its cloisters, library, dormitory, refectory, and schools—the munificence of the Joyces left nothing to be desired.” “ Am I to understand,” asked father Purcell, that Eosser- rick, like the convent of Moyne, was a school for those who as 2 iired to our poor habit ] ” FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 61 ‘‘ By no means,” replied tlie provincial; “ for Rosserrick belonged to the third order of St. Francis, which counted well nigh fifty houses in various parts of Ireland. Most of them date their erection in the fifteenth century, those especially of Killybegs, Kil-O-Donel, and Magherabeg, near our great monastery of Donegal, which were found by the O’Donnells and their subordinate chieftains. The friars of these houses lived in community, observed strict discipline, discharged pas¬ toral duties, such as attending the sick and dying in the im¬ mediate neighbourhood, and devoted themselves to educating the youth of the circumjacent districts. Such was the rule of the tertiaries of St. Francis; and, indeed, so solicitous were the heads of the great families—the O’Donnells and MacSwynes of Fanad, for example—for the education of their people, that they took special care to settle large endowments on the houses of the third order, which, I need hardly tell you, were always subject to the control of our generals and provincials. The tertiaries, indeed, did good service in Ireland; for the liberality of the native princes enabled them to dijffuse learning among the poorer classes, who were always addicted to booklore. I myself have met peasant lads educated in those schools, who were as familiar with Yirgil, Horace, Homer, and other classic writers, as they were with the genealogies of the Milesian princes. ’Tis almost superfluous to tell you that the good fathers of those venerable houses reared their scholars in un¬ alterable hatred to the - principles of the new religion, which, under the pseudonym of re/orination, has laid its sacrilegious hands on all that once was ours. Rosserrick, too, shared the hard fate of the other religious houses ; and when I visited it, its roof had fallen in, thus exposing the elaborate carvings of the windows, and the fine tracery of the coupleted cloister, to the j)itiless rain and storm, that will wreak their rage on both till better times dawn for Ireland. Alas, alas, the hope I cherished of seeing the advent of such a day has long since faded from my heart ; and I myself, like the edifices of which we are discoursing, have grown to be a very ruin—weak, hoary, and tottering. This is digression ; but I may as well tell you that, ever since September 1603, I abandoned all hope of seeing Ireland and our holy order rescued from the misfortunes that have fallen heavily on both; for in that fatal year we lost the only one who could, perhaps, have reversed our destiny.” “ And who was he ^ ” demanded father Purcell. “ Who ! ” replied the provincial—“ who but Hugh Roe O’Donnell, who, when all seemed lost in the disaster of Kinsale, 62 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE hastened away to Spain to implore aid for Ireland in that hour of her direst need. Alas, that aid never came; and he who went to seek it found an untimely grave in our monastery at Valladolid. On him my hopes were based, and with him they lie buried-” “ Father,” interrupted Purcell, every one has heard of the achievements of that great chieftain; but Ikl suggest that you would enable me to leave in these pages a faithful description of his personal appearance. It has been truly said that history has a charlatanism, which usually represents its heroes in perspective, in order to tone down whatever is base or repulsive in^ their features. Sure I am that he should not be treated thus, for doubtless you knew him.” ‘‘ Knew him!” replied the provincial; ^‘and who could have known him better ? In sooth, dear brother, I knew him from his fifteenth year, when Perrott’s hired agent basely decoyed him aboard the ship that anchored opposite the Carmelite nun¬ nery of Kathmullen. Often and often, during the four years he was prisoner in Dublin castle, have I loitered about that fortress, to catch a glimpse of him when he and his fellow-cap¬ tives were allowed to walk out on the ramparts to breath fresh air ; nay, and after deputy Fitzwilliam had clutched the bribe of a thousand pounds—given him’by O’FTeilFs justiciary. Art O’Hagan,* surnamed huidhe, that is, Jiavus, or, the yellow- haired—to connive at his brother-in-law’s escape, I was one of the first to congratulate him as he lay sick and frostbitten in the fastness of Glenmalure, tended by doctors, and guarded by Feagh MacHugh O’Byrne’s galloglass.” “And did the lord deputy really take the bribe?” asked father Purcell. “ There can be no doubt of it,” answered the provincial; “ for Fitzwilliam was one of the most sordid men that ever filled that high office; and, like his predecessor Perrott, he turned the deputy ship to good account, never shrinking from any atrocity that might help him to fill his coffers. He was, in sooth, a veiy miser, and you must have heard that he went to Connaught when he learned that some ships of the Armada were aground on that coast, and laid waste whole territories of the Irish chiefs because they could not, or would not, give him the * The ancient sept of the 0’Hagans is now worthily represented by the Fight Hon. the Baron of Tullahogue. For the prominent part taken by Henry 0’Hagan in Lord Essex’s negotiations with the Earl of Tyrone at the Ford of Aclint, see Essex’s Journal in Appendix. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 63 Spanish gold, which was said to have been found on the per¬ sons of the shipwrecked sailors. But as to the bribe given for O’Donneirs enlargement, sir Robert Gardiner and others charged Fitzwilliam with having accepted it.” “ And how did he meet the accusation of having connived at the escape of the prisoners'?” ‘‘Very clumsily, indeed,” replied the provincial; “for some months after their return to Ulster he wrote to queen Elizabeth that the whole blame was to be thrown on Maplesdon, the chief warder of Dublin castle, and the jailor under him, whose busi¬ ness it was to see, twice every twenty-four hours, that the pri¬ soner’s chains were well secured ; and he concluded this strange letter by telling her majesty that he had dismissed Maplesdon, and committed the under-jailor to a dungeon with good store of irons upon his back. “ But you ask me did I know Hugh Roe O’Donnell ! I was but a stripling when he was seized by deputy Perrott’s trea¬ cherous device ; and little did I then think that I would one day wear a friar’s habit in the monastery of Donegal. Father, I told you before that I was a soldier in my prime, and that I marched under his banner, after I had witnessed his inaugura¬ tion on the mound of Kilmacrenan. That, indeed, was a glo¬ rious day, when O’Freel, the erenach, placed the wand of sovereignty in his small, white hand, and proclaimed him the O’Donnell. Knew him ! Oh! well I did in every phase of his career : in the hour of his splendid victory over Clifford in the passes of the Curlieu mountains ; and was I not at his side when his cavalry chased the remnant of Bagnall’s routed forces from the Blackwater into Armagh '? But what have I to do with re¬ collections which bring tears to these aged eyes—tears that I should reserve for the sins of my youth h I knew him too in the hour of his misfortune ; and was one of the last to kiss his hand on the beach of Castlehaven, when he was about to em¬ bark for Spain. The treachery, the defeat of Kinsale, had not broken his noble spirit; for he told us that v/e might soon ex¬ pect to see him again, with Spanish ships, men, arms and money, in the bay of Donegal. Alas ! his hopes were not des¬ tined to be realised; and king Philip III., for reasons best known to himself, did not dispatch the promised aid. But as you think it right that generations yet to come should be ac¬ quainted with his person, take your pen, and follow me carefully while I dictate. “ In stature he w^as above the middle height; his body was robust; his features symmetrical, and entire mien elegant; his 64 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE voice, sweet and musical. In Ms enterprises lie was quick and active, ever a lover of justice, and a most inflexible punisher of malefactors. Persevering in his undertakings, faithful to his promises, most patient in hardships, rigid and severe in maintaining military discipline, courageous in presence of difii- culties, brave in battle, aflable and courteous to every one, zealous for the restoration of the Catholic faith, and a great despiser of the world; so much so, that I have often heard him say, that if it pleased God to give a fortunate issue to the war, he would become a friar of St. Francis’s order. He never mar¬ ried ; his mind was great, but nowise proud; he was a zealous promoter of ecclesiastical discipline; so much so, that, through excess of zeal, he sometimes carried himself austerely with cer¬ tain priests. He had a singular love for our order, and in all his actions he was truly sincere. As for his purity of life, it was never questioned—he was fond of the society of spiritual men, whose aid and counsel he was wont to seek. On his deathbed he begged St. Francis’s habit, in which he was buried, and he asked it with the intention of renouncing the world, had it pleased God to restore him to health.* “How,” said the provincial, “you have a true portrait of a great man ; not such, indeed, as our friend. Van Dyck, the greatest of living Flemish painters, would produce on canvas, but in my judgment a great deal better; for who could depict the virtues or internal emotions^ You might as well think of 2 )ainting a sound ! But you have led me into a digression; and as I have given you all the particulars that I was able to col¬ lect regarding Bosserrick monastery, we will now speak of another far more famous—I mean that of Kilconnell. “ For many a century before and after the English invasion, the potent family of O’Kelly ruled with regal sway over the vast territory of Hy-Many, which originally extended from Clon- tuskert, southwards, to the boundary of the county Clare, and from Athlone, westwards, to Seefin and Athenry, in the county of Galway. Well, indeed, do the O’Kellys deserve to be styled a great family, for their strong walled castles were numerous, their martial prowess unsurpassed, and their piety most exem¬ plary. But of them all, there was none more celebrated for his virtues than William O’Kelly, presumptive heir to the lordship of Hy-Many, who, in 1353, founded the beautiful monastery of Kilconnell for conventual Franciscans. It was, indeed, an edifice second to none of its class in Ireland, admirably con- * See Appendix I. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 65 stiTicted, spacious in all its departments, and most eligibly- situated on the great thoroughfare leading from Athlone to Galway. In 1460, however, the original building was con¬ siderably modified and enlarged, when, at the instance of Malachy O’Kelly, the community was reformed, and adopted the strict observance. Malachy O’Kelly died in 1464, and was buried in the sculptured sepulchre which was erected within the walls of the church by William, the original founder, for himself and his posterity. Indeed, I have seen in that church numerous monuments erected by the chief families of the border¬ ing districts, which, whether we regard the marble of which they were wrought, or the exquisite finish of their elaborate details, might challenge comparison with some of the most artistic de¬ velopments of the same character in the cathedral of St. Gudule at Brussels. ^Mt is not my intention to speak of the Franciscans who dwelt in Kilconnell before the disastrous days of the English schism; and I will, therefore, content myself with leaving on record some facts connected with that venerable house, which I learned from trustworthy witnesses, when I visited the place some years ago. On that occasion I found the church in good preservation, owing in great measure to a singular circumstance, which I will mention by-and-by. It may not be out of place, however, to premise, that the church and monastery were built of finely-cut stone, and that both were covered with a roof' of wood, made to resemble tiles. Within the church are seven altars ; and all the internal decorations, whether in stone or wood, are admirably finished. The sacred edifice is surmounted by a lofty tower, and, strange to say, its sweet-toned bell is still there, notwithstanding the ra^^acity of the English heretics, who seldom spare such things. In a word, I found the church in excellent condition ; the stained glass of the windows unbroken, the pictures undefaced, and the sculptured work unmutilated. I was there on more than one occasion, and with the six poor friars who still clung to the holy place, sang the office in choir —nay, and preached to multitudes so great that the church could not contain them all. “ It would seem that a special providence watched over Kil¬ connell, to save it from the destruction which had fallen on nearly all our other houses; and you will agree with me in this when I tell you, that it stood in a most exposed position, and was frequently head-quarters of English regiments during the war between O’Keill and queen Elizabeth. Indeed, from time to time it was garrisoned by whole companies, who messed and lit fires within F 66 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE the very church ; and yet, strange to say, it sustained little or no injury from such unbidden guests ! A few manifest proofs of that special interposition of heaven cannot but interest you, and assuredly they deserve to be j)laced on record. You have heard, no doubt, of sir Kichard Bingham, the governor of Connaught, whose inhuman treatment of the native Irish so shocked even queen Elizabeth herself, that she was obliged to dismiss him from that high office in 1595, and sum¬ mon him to London to answer the charges of cold-blooded mur¬ ders which were preferred against him by the Burkes and others. You are aware that that heartless miscreant sailed round Tircon- nell, and with his ship’s crew plundered the defenceless nuns of the Carmelite convent of Bathmullen, of vestments, chalices, and all their other valuables. You have heard, too, how he and his brother George, subsequently slain by Ulick Burke, as he deserved, swept with fire and sword the island of Tory, de¬ molishing its crosses and oratories, which stood there since the days of blessed Columba. Nevertheless, incredible as it may seem, this very Bingham behaved kindly to the friars of Kil- connell, where he used to keep his head-quarters. In fact, he gave strict orders to his officers and men to see that the church and the monastery should sustain no injury at their hands— nay, he summoned some of the friars to his presence, and ex¬ horted them to do all in their power to keep the buildings in good repair. ‘^In the year 1596, too, during the presidency of sir Conyers Clifford, Kilconnell was once more turned into a barrack for English soldiers, after they had been signally defeated by O’Donnell and O’Neill in various engagements. On this latter occasion, the English garrisoned the monastery with not less than fifteen companies ; for they came to besiege Calla and Aughrim, two strong castles, situated within three or four miles of each other, which belonged to O’Kelly, then in alliance with the Irish princes, O’Neill and O’Donnell, who now sleeps— God rest him 1—in our monastery of Yalladolid. Now, it so happened that one of the English officers then stationed there had a horse of which he was very fond, and he determined to stable it within the very chancel, hard by the steps of St. Erancis’ altar, where he causedhay and straw to be laid down for the brute. Heaven, however, it would seem, resented this outrage; for, on the next morning, the valuable charger was found stark dead, though sound and strong the night before. Even the very companions of this captain Bynck—for such was his name—admitted that this was a just judgment FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 67 on his impiety. Nevertheless, the English soldiers forced open the tombs of the princes and chieftains buried in the church, thinking that they would light on concealed treasure ; nor did they desist from these outrages till one of them had his legs fractured by the falling of a huge block of stone. “It was in the same year (1596) that captain Stryck, a heretic indeed, yet, withal, a man of generous disposition, for I knew him well, influenced no doubt by the facts which I have been relating, sent for the friars, and gave them his word of honour that no one would be allowed to molest them—nay, issued orders that no injury should be done to the convent, and forbade his soldiers to burn the woodwork of the church or of the cloisters. He then gave up the sacristy to the friars, and also some cells in the dormitory for their use ; and so liberal was he, that he allowed Mass to be said privately in the sacristy. During the nine months he remained there the friars continued to live in the precincts which God enabled them to preserve. Meanwhile, all the trees in the orchards and gardens were cut down by the soldiers and used for fuel; for although they often went to the neighbouring woods to fell it, and never returned without losing some of their men, yet so fearful were they of injuring the church or the woodwork of the convent, that they preferred meeting the enemy face to face, and fight¬ ing for every stick they carried off*. “Now, will you not agree with me in attributing the pre¬ servation of this monastery to the especial providence of God 1 What else could have restrained that bloody-minded monster, Bingham, from reducing it to a charred and rifted ruin 1 What else could have kept Stryck from demolishing it stone by stone? But this account of that venerable house would be imperfect, if it did not bear testimony to the zealous exertions of those friars, who spared no effort for its protection. Let us, there¬ fore, hand down their names to posterity ; and should it please God, in some future age, to restore Kilconnell to the Francis¬ cans, let them never forget to pray for the souls of fathers Solomon and Hugh MacEgan, and their worthy brother, Philip Clime.* “ I have nothing more to add to this narrative, except that the monastery of Kilconnell has been granted to one Callthorp and other English settlers, and that the cruel ordinance of queen Elizabeth, commanding ‘ houses freight with friars ’ to be suppressed, and ‘ made fit habitations for Englishmen,’ is * See Appendix K. 68 THE RISE AND FALL OP THE now being carried out to tlie letter. On some future occasion I will narrate to you various particulars relating to some of our other convents in the province of Connaught.” As Mooney’s account of the monasteries of his order was- written towards the close of 1616, it may interest the reader to know how it fared with Kilconnell at a later period. The transfer alluded to in the text, was made in 1614 ; and the jmoperty belonging to the monastery was then described as con¬ sisting of “ three acres, on which stood a convent, containing O’Donnellan’s chapel,* a chapter-house, library, hall, storehouse^ four chambers, twenty-eight small chambers, four granaries, three orchards, sixty ash-trees, a mill, a watercourse, and four acres of arable land,” all of which were granted by James I. to one Callthorp. The Franciscans, nevertheless, continued to reside in the neighbourhood of the convent for nearly a century afterwards, and were supported by the O’Kellys, many of whom bequeathed legacies to them, with injunction to pray for their departed souls. The last of these pious donors was, we believe, John O’Kelly, ancestor of count O’Kelly, of France, who, dying- in 1714, left some money to the poor friars then dwelling near the ruins of Kilconnell, and ordered that his remains should be interred in the ancestral tomb. Many of the leading Catholic families of Leinster, transplanted to Connaught by Cromwell— the Trimlestons,! Betaghs of Moynalty, county of Meath, and others,—erected monuments for themselves, which may still be seen within the ruins; and it would appear that the friars con¬ tinued to say Mass there occasionally, till some short time be¬ fore the battle of Aughrim, when they took refuge in a neigh¬ bouring bog, now called “the Friar’s Bog,” where they existed as best they could in miserable shielings. Dr. O’Donovan, the most learned of our topographers and antiquarians, in the Ord¬ nance Survey of the county Galway, says, that the bell of Kilcon¬ nell, weighing one and a-half cwt., and bearing an inscription, was found in the same bog some time previous to 1838; and he adds, that a person living in that neighbourhood had then in his possession a wooden image of St. Francis, that formerly belonged to the monastery. * See Appendix L. t For a fine engraving of Lord Trimleston’s monument in the Guest¬ house of Kilconnell, see Prendergast’s Cromwellian Settlement, p. 187^ (2nd edition.) FEANCISCAN MONASTEEIES IN IRELAND. 69 CHAPTER YII. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES OF GALWAY, ROSSERILLY, KENALEHAN, AND CREEVELEA. The Franciscan monastery of Galway,” resumed the provin¬ cial, was founded by William de Burgh, surnamed Liagh, the grey, in the year 1296, outside the city wall, and in the fair little island called after the protomartyr—Insula S, Stephani. The illustrious founder spared no expense to render this monas¬ tery one of the finest in Ireland; and, indeed, the spacious ■dimensions of its church, the rich marble of which it was con¬ structed, and the splendour of its altars, are so many irrefra¬ gable evidences of the piety and taste of the noble De Burgh. He lived to see it solemnly consecrated, and when dying ordered that his remains should be laid in the richly wrought monument which he caused to be built for himself and his pos¬ terity, right under the shadow of the grand altar. When I visited Galway, the tomb of the founder, like those of most of the chief families of the neighbourhood, was in good preserva¬ tion, particularly that of De Burgh, round whose recumbent effigy I read the following epitaph: ‘Memorise Illmi. Domini Gul. de Burgo suae nationis principis et hujus monasterii fun- datoris qui obiit 1324.’ The endowments which De Burgh made to this monastery were very numerous, and consisted of water¬ mills on the river, and the tithes of some arable land near the city; and that our friars should never lack fish, he willed that on every Wednesday they should be supplied with one salmon out of the great weir, on every Saturday with three out of the high weir, and on the same day with one out of the haul-net, and with all the eels that might be taken one day in each week out of the many eel weirs on the river. “ As an instance of the high esteem in which the Franciscans of Galway were held by the court of Rome, I should not omit to tell you that, in 1381, pope Urban YI. empowered the guar¬ dian of that venerable house to excommunicate every one within the borders of Connaught who presumed to adopt the party of the anti-pope, Clement YII., whose abettors were very nume¬ rous in France, Naples, and Scotland. That, in sooth, was a •disastrous era for the Church, when cardinals, kings, and laymen contested the legitimacy of the election of the two rival pontifis, the one in Avignon and the other in Rome ; but, be it recorded to the honour of our Galway brethren, they adhered with unalterable fidelity to pope Urban, the rightful successor 70 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE of Gregory XI., who, at the instance of St. Catherine of Sienna re-established the residence of the popes in Koine, after an in¬ terval of seventy years, which the people of that city termed the seven decades of the Babylonish captivity. ‘‘ I may say, unhesitatingly, that the Galway monastery had as many benefactors as any other house of our order in Ireland; for, indeed, the inhabitants of that ancient city loved our habit, and never tired of contributing to the maintenance of our bre¬ thren. The largesses of the rich and noble helped to keep the buildings in good repair, and the poor man was ever ready with his mite to promote the same object. Indeed, the register which records the multitudinous bequests and legacies of the towns¬ people to the brotherhood is still in the possession of one of our friars in Galway; and on turning over its pages I found ample evidence of the love and veneration which the citizens of every grade always cherished for our institute.* How many instances could I adduce of their almost princely munificence ! but I must restrict myself to mentioning only a few of the many which, I trust, will never be forgotten. Thus, for example, as I learned from the register, Edward Philibyn, a wealthy merchant, re¬ built the dormitory for our friars in 1492; and in 1538, John French, then chief magistrate of the city, erected the beautiful chapel on the south side of the monastery, in honour of God and St. Francis, and for the good estate of his own soul and the souls of his posterity. As for the tombs of the distinguished deni¬ zens of Galway and its neighbourhood who selected our church for their last resting-place, they are very numerous, and splendid productions of the sculptor’s chisel.* De Burghs, Lynches, Fitz Stephens, and O’Flahertys, moidder there beneath marble monuments, exquisitely wrought, rich in heraldry and pompous epitaphs, recording many a high achievement on the battle-field, in the senate, and in the mart. Apart from those gorgeous monuments—last efibrts of human vanity if you will—there is in the south side of the choir an unostentatious one, sacred to the memory of a truly great man, whose extensive and profound erudition reflects honour on the Franciscan order, of which he was, in sooth, a most distinguished ornament; I speak of Maurice O’Fihiley, or Maurice de Portu, whom Julius 11. advanced to the archiepiscopal see of Tuam in 1506. From what I have been able to learn of this wonderful scholar, it ap¬ pears that he was a native of Baltimore, in the county of Cork, and took the surname ‘ De Portu ’ from the haven on which * See Appendix M. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 71 that town is situated. Having completed his studies in Padua, he for a long time taught philosophy in that learned city, and earned a world-wide reputation by the variety of his writings, some of which were - not published till after his death. His principal works are ‘ Commentaries on Scotus,’ a ‘ Dictionary of the Scriptures,’ the ‘ Enchiridion Fidei, or a Manual of the Faith,’ which he dedicated to the earl of Kildare ; ‘ The Com¬ pendium of Truths,’ in Leonine metre, and many others which it would be superfluous to enumerate. This truly learned man was corrector of the press for that far-famed printer, Benedict Locatelli, and filled the same place in the printing establish¬ ment of Octavian Schott, at Venice. Having assisted at the early sessions of the council of Lateran, 1512, and returned to Ireland in the following year, he landed at Galway, where he fell sick, and died in our convent there. Few, indeed, have won greater renown in the republic of letters, and well did he deserve the epithet bestowed upon him by the erudite men of his day, who justly styled him ‘ Flos Mundi.’ Two of his suc¬ cessors in the see of Tuam, Thomas O’Mullaly and Christopher Bodkin, await the resurrection in the same humble sepulchre. ‘‘ This venerable monastery, however, was doomed to share the fate of most of our other houses in Connaught; and accord¬ ingly, in the year 1570, the greater part of its possessions was wrested from the friars, and granted to the corporation of Gal¬ way and their successors. As for the convent and church, they were both assigned to an individual, who, pretending to have adopted the doctrines of the Anglican religion, in order to accommodate himself to the times, contrived withal to do great service to our brotherhood when they were banished from their ancient precincts. Nothing, indeed, could have been more strange than the conduct of this anonymous grantee ; for he possessed himself of the old conventual register, in which all legacies bequeathed to our friars were entered : and not only did he vigorously enforce payment of the amounts, but he actually handed them over to the community, then residing in a house which they rented in the city, in order that all such pious dona¬ tions might be expended on the repairs and preservation of the ancient edifice. Fuidhermore, as the island on which the monastery stands belonged to him, he could not be induced to part with a single perch of it at any price, no matter how tempt¬ ing ; and instead of letting it to others, he built there sundry handsome houses, which accommodate upwards of fifty persons, together with three water-mills for grinding corn. It was during the construction of the latter that the weir which for- THE RISE AND FALL OF THE 72 merly belonged to the Franciscans was demolisbed. From the earliest times, too, it was customary for all vessels coming up the river with wood and other sorts of fuel, to give a little of it by way of alms to our friars ; and, strange as it may seem, this anonymous benefactor still insists on the observance of the usage, and thus supplies our brethren in the city with coal and firewood. He also maintains the ancient immunities of St. Ste¬ phen’s island ; so much so that he will not allow the mayor to carry his insignia beyond the middle of the bridge leading to the island, which, in the olden time, marked the limit of muni¬ cipal jurisdiction in that quarter. Two customs which struck me as very peculiar are still observed in the city of Galway, and so remarkable are they that I think them worth recording. First, almost everyone who has anything to leave when dying, bequeaths a proportionate sum for the preservation and repairs of the nionasterj^; and secondly, vast numbers of the citizens, of every age, sex, and condition, go each evening at sunset to that venerable old church to pray to God, who, I doubt not, will one day reward their most edifying piety. I have already told you that, at the time of my visit to Galway, the monastery and church were in excellent preservation; but I should not forget to mention that, in 1603, James the First of England granted both to Sir George Carew and his heirs for ever. Thenceforth our venerable church was turned into a profane courthouse, where judges appointed by Chichester, the lord deputy, held assizes for the town and county. Alas ! it was heartrending to witness such desecration; and the tears fell fast and hot from my eyes when, on entering the holy edifice, I found it crowded with litigants, the pulpit turned into a witness-box, the choir and chancel adapted to accommodate a multitude of brawling lawyers, and worst of all, the grand altar transformed into a bench for a bloated judge, who was entirely ignorant of the language and customs of the people. Witnessing the sad spec¬ tacle, I was forcibly reminded of that passage in the Psalm : ‘ Then shall they lay calves upon thine altar ! ’ I have nothing further to add to this meagre account of our once splendid monastery of Galway, except that I was not able to ascertain what became of its altar-plate and rich vestments, all of which had fallen into the hands of our rapacious enemies. A few Franciscans still continue to live in the house which father Maurice Ultan hired for them in the city, and their zeal is of the greatest benefit to the townspeople as well as to those of the suburbs. “ Another house,” continued the provincial, “ where I spent some days during my visit to Connaught, pleased me almost as FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 73 miich as did that of Moyne. I now speak of the beautiful and spacious church and monastery of Rosserilly*—or, as it is called by the Irish, Kos-Irial—which is situated in the diocese of Tuam, and within eight or nine miles of that ancient city. Who its founder was I have not been able to ascertain, but there can be no doubt that it was erected for Franciscans, in the year 1351. Never was a more solitary spot chosen for the habita¬ tion of a religious community than that on which Kosserilly stands ; for it is surrounded by marshes and bogs, and the still¬ ness that reigns there is seldom broken save by the tolling of the church-bell, or the whirr of the countless flocks of plover and other wild birds that frequent the fens which abound in that desolate region. Another remarkable feature of the locality is that the monastery can only be approached by a causeway paved with large stones, over an extent of fully two hundred paces, and terminating at the enclosure, which was built in 1572, by father Ferrall MacEgan, a native of Connaught, and then provincial of the Irish Franciscans. He was, in sooth, a distinguished man in his day, far-famed for eloquence and learn¬ ing, and singularly fond of Rosserilly, which he used to compare to the Thebaid, whither the early Christians resorted for prayer and contemplation. He died in our house of Kilconnell, where he made his religious profession, and there he awaits the resur¬ rection—peace to his memory ! As for the church of Hosserilly, it is, indeed, a beautiful edifice; and the same may be said of the monastery, which, although often garrisoned by English troops during the late war, is still in excellent preservation. Cloister, refectory, dor¬ mitory, chapter-house, library, and lofty bell-tower, have all sur¬ vived the disasters of that calamitous period ; but, in the twenty- sixth year of the reign of Elizabeth, the friars were forcibly expelled from their beloved retreat, and monastery and church were, by a royal ordinance, granted to an Englishman, who laid sacrilegious hands on our vestments, altar-plate, books, and muniments, leaving us nothing but bare walls and the rifled tombs of our benefactors. “ It was not long, however, till the friars returned to Ros- serilly; for that good and great man, the earl of Clanricarde, took pity on them, and having purchased the grantee’s interest in the property, restored them to their venerable abode. Thence¬ forth the community of Rosserilly consisted of six priests and two lay brothers, who laboured indefatigably for the repairs of * See Appendix N. 74 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE the sacred edifice, till Daniel, the Protestant archbishop of Tuam, at the instance of sir Arthur Chichester, then lord de¬ puty, drove them out once more, and caused the altars to be demolished. In justice, however, to this heretic bishop, who was deeply learned in the Irish language, I must say that, although authorized to arrest the friars, he did not do so, but rather sent them word privately that he was coming, in order that they might have time to save themselves by flight. In fact, he acted against his own will, and in obedience to the lord ^deputy’s commands. ” How strange, ” interrupted father Purcell, “ that the earl of Clanricarde should take such interest in the safety and well¬ being of our poor friars ! ” “ Indeed, ” rejfiied the provincial, “ it was only natural that he should do so, for his mother was a true benefactress to our order, as you will see by what I am going to tell you. In the diocese of Clonfert, and on the declivity of Slieve-A ughty, in a place almost as solitary as Rosserilly, we had a small but hand¬ some monastery and church, called Kenalehan, founded by the De Burghs, some time in the fourteenth century. It was, in¬ deed, a fair building as friar could wish to see; and the few acres of land with which it was endowed yielded all that was necessary for the maintenance of a small community. Its gar¬ dens and orchards were the best in the whole district, and, as I said before, its situation—far away from public thoroughfares, and in the immediate territory of the earls of Clanricarde—pro¬ tected it for a considerable time from the inroads and devasta¬ tions of the English soldiery. In the late war, however, both monastery and church were burnt to the ground by sir Bichard Bingham ; but the moment intelligence of the catastrophe reached the ears of the most noble lady, the actual earl’s mother,, she ordered that the church should be re-roofed, and a wing of the monastery made habitable for the community. Hay more, the present earl and Bichard de Burgh, surnamed the red, re¬ built the dormitory and other appurtenances of the place, and purchased the entire from the crown, rather than allow it to fall into the hands of heretics. How truly doth holy writ say that a good tree beareth good fruit ! ” “ And yet, ” remarked father Purcell, “ the present earl, whom you have so much lauded, was dubbed Bichard of Kin- sale, for the services he rendered the English when they besieged the Spaniards in that town. ” “ It is, alas, too true ! ” replied the provincial; “ and, indeed,, the Anglo-Irish nobles always sided with our enemies—nay. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 75 and induced multitudes of the Irish themselves to swell the ranks of our oppressors. Withal, it would he unjust to deny the De Burghs that gratitude which our order owes them; for they were always among the best and most distinguished of its benefactors. But let me resume, and conclude what remains to be said of Bosserilly. In 1604, the munificence of Bichard of Kinsale enabled the community to repair the monastery and church, which, as I have already told you, was consideiably dilapidated during the late war; and in that same year oui friars buried beneath its precincts one of the noblest and bravest heroes of whom his country could boast, namely, Bryan Oge O’Bourke, son of Bryan-na-Murtha, of whose glorious death you, doubtless, have heard. ” “ Methinks, ” replied father Purcell, that he was executed in Bondon j but I confess that I am not acquainted with the circumstances which brought him to the scaffold. '' Listen, then, ” continued the provincial; “for it will not take long to narrate them, and, indeed, they deserve to be re¬ corded. When some of the ships of the ill-fated Armada went to pieces on the coast of Sligo, Bryan-na-Murtha 0 Bouike, pitying the Spaniards who appealed to him for protection, not only sent them immediate aid, but invited them and their chief officer, Antonio de Leva, to his castle of Lromahere, where they were entertained with warmest hospitality. O’Bourke’s conduct provoked the vengeance of the queen, who ordered her deputy, Pitzwilliam, and sir Bichard Bingham, to waste with fire and sword the principality of Breffny-O’Bourke. As for the chief¬ tain himself, he was obliged, after some ineffectual resistance, to fiy to Scotland, where he was arrested by order of James VI., now king of England, who perfidiously _ sent him in chains Jo London. Arraigned on a charge of high treason, the noble- minded chieftain refused to bend his knee before the insignia or royalty; and, when taunted by one of the privy councillors that he used to make no difficulty about kneeling in presence or images of saints, he coolly replied that there was a very wic e difference between effigies of holy personages and the men with whom he was then confronted. Sentence of death being^ re¬ corded, he was soon afterwards led to the place of execution, where he was met by that vile apostate, Miler McGrath,* hereLc archbishop of Cashel, who strove in vain to make him abjure the faith ; but O’Bourke spurned him as a renegade dog, and died a true son of holy Church. ” * See Appendix 0. 76 the rise and fall of the “Alas, alas ! ” interrupted father Purcell, “ McGrath’s apos¬ tasy is a sad reflection on our seraphic institute. Is the wretched man still living % ” “ You might as well say, dear brother,” replied the provincial, that Lucifer’s fall reflected disgrace on the faithful angels. Scandals, you know, have been and must be, as we learn from holy writ. McGrath is still alive, extremely old, and bedrid; cursed by the Protestants for wasting the revenues and manors of the ancient see of Cashel, and derided by the Catholics, who are well-acquainted with the drunken habitudes of himself and his coadjutor, Knight. Nevertheless, from all I have been able to learn of McGrath, there is reason to hope that he will return to the Church; and, if I be not misinformed, he would now gladly exchange the Lock of Cashel for the Capitol, where he spent his youth in the convent of Aracoeli. But before we dismiss him, I must not omit telling you that the unfortunate old man had a controversy with one Montgomery, king James’s heretic bishop of Derry, Clogher, and Baphoe, concerning church lands; for avarice seems to have been the dominant passion of this well matched pair. But I will let sir John Davys, the king’s attorney-general, state the case in a letter to lord Salisbury, dated September 20, 1609, a copy of which has come into my hands by a fortunate accident: “ About the inquiry of church lands there has grown a difference between the old archbishop of Cashel, and the bishop of Derry and Clogher, who, in the right of his bishopric of Clogher, claims all the patrimony of the archbishop in these parts, for the arch¬ bishop’s father was a Corb or Erenagh of the Termon, wherein St. Patrick’s Purgatory stands, called Termon-Magrath. The archbishop in queen Elizabeth’s time obtained letters out of England, that his father’s surrender should be accepted and a grant made to him by letters patent, and the archbishop inherits that land by virtue of the queen’s grant. How be it, because the bishop of Clogher has a rent out of that Termon, he claims the possession by virtue of his majesty’s letter.” “ Let us now come back to Bryan Oge O’Rourke, who, when the news of his father’s death reached Ireland, was duly inaugu¬ rated in his stead. This worthy son of a martyred sire dis¬ tinguished himself in many a glorious action during the Elizabethan war, and particularly in that far-famed fight near Boyle, where he and O’Donnell routed the English, under Clifford, on the memorable feast of the Assumption. Ever active and indefatigable in the service of his religion and country, he marched with O’Donnell to Kinsale, and did his FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 77 utmost to retrieve tlie disasters of that fatal day, holding out to the last, till the usurpation of a step-brother compelled him to return home, and reassert his rights to the principality of his fathers. Thenceforth his castle of Leitrim became the refuge of such of the Irish chieftains as still held out against the English, in the hope of obtaining succour from Spain. In that hospitable mansion he sheltered McGuire of Fermanagh, and the O’Sullivans, after their unparalleled march of ahundied leao-ues, in the depth of winter, from^ Glengariffe to Breffny ; and beneath its walls he routed, with signal slaughter, a large body of troops, commanded by Lambert, governor ot Connaught, and captain Bustock, who was slam on the field The treason, however, of his step-brother, who was supported by the English, ultimately succeeded ; and the gallant chieftain, deserted by his followers, after making terms for his life, returned to Galway, where he fell sick and died of a broken heart. His last wish was that his remains should repose m the cloister of Rosserilly, and our friars took care to see that wish fulfilled; for, in the month of January, when the snow lay thick on the roads, the funeral cortege, accompanied by a few faithful friends, entered the enclosure of the monastery ; and, as soon as the Requiem had been sung, our brotherhood piously hollowed out a grave in the cloister, and there interred all that remained of one of the bravest and best of those men whose names deserve to be canonized in the pages of his¬ tory. I know not whether that grave is marked by a monu¬ ment ; but as long as a single^ fragment of Rosserilly stands, the pilgrim and the wayfarer will point to it as the last resting- place of Bryan Oge O’Rourke.* n i “ God rest his soul ! ” said father Purcell, “ for he was faithful to the land that gave him birth. Lid not one of his ancestors found a monastery for Franciscans '? t i t • x i “ Most certainly,” replied the provincial; “ nor did I intend to omit that fact. Indeed, I have good reason to remember the monastery and church of Ballyrourke—or, as some call it, Creevelea—for it was there I was ordained priest, and cele¬ brated my first Mass. That once splendid monastery was founded in 1508, by Owen O’Rourke, prince of Brefihy, at the instance of his wife, Margaret O’Brien, daughter of Conoi^ kino- of Thomond, and sister of Emgalla, the fam-shouldered, who, as I have already told you, was mainly instrumental in erecting our venerable house of Donegal. The spot which the * See Appendix P. 78 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE princess of Breffny selected for the building lies on the bank of the river Boned, within an easy walk of the castle of Dro- ^ mahere; and, if we may credit local tradition, St. Patrick erected a church on the same site, which is still called Carrig- Phadruig, or Patrick’s Bock. The entire edifice, including altars, columns, and chapter-room, was constructed of fine stone, resembling grey marble ; and for its dimensions it was not inferior, as regards architecture and elaborate sculpture, to any other house of our institute in Ireland. Owen O’Bourke erected a monument for himself and his posterity within the chancel; and three years after the foundation-stone was laid, Thomas MacBrady, bishop of Kilmore, attended by a brilliant retinue of ecclesiastics and laics, consecrated the church and monastery under the invocation of St. Francis. The first friars who took possession of Creevelea were sent from Donegal; for the princess Margaret* out of afiection for her sister, pre¬ ferred those to whom the latter had been such a constant and munificent benefactress. The community, though small, was well endowed by the O’Bourke ; and as long as that princely family ruled their ancient territory, the Franciscans of Creevelea lacked nothing that could contribute to their peace and humble maintenance. The princess Margaret died in 1512, and was the first tenant of the splendid tomb erected by her lord; and he himself, after taking our habit, was laid in the same sepulchre in 1528. It was, indeed, a year remarkable for the decease of many of those to whom our order is indebted; for in it our brotherhood had also to bewail the loss of Fingalla, wife of O’Donnell, who, after a life spent in acts of charity, and after wearing our habit two-and-twenty years, passed out of this world to that everlasting blessedness, which she so well merited by her fidelity to God, and our holy founder St. Francis. Eight years after the death of Owen O’Bourke, a sad misfortune overtook the community of Creevelea; for, in the dead of night, when the friars were asleep in their cells, a fire broke out—I know not by what accident—and burned down a goodly portion of the edifice. “ It was, indeed, a disastrous night; for, along with the loss of many valuable books, the community had to lament the death of Heremon O’Donnell, one of the brotherhood, who perished in the flames whilst striving to save the sacred vessels. Bryan Ballach O’Bourke, however, Owen’s successor, and father of Bryan-na-Murtha, of whom I have already spoken. * Bee Appendix Q. FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 79 V ^ partially restored the sacred edifice ; but, owing to the constant ^ wars in which he was engaged, he was never able to fully re- I pair the damage caused by the fire. Nevertheless, the com¬ munity continued to live there, labouring, praying, and educat- ; ino- the youth of the district, till they were expelled from L: their venerable abode by sir Kichard Bingham, who, on niore ' than one occasion, turned the monastery and church into quarters for his soldiers, pillaged the place, and burned the 1 richly-carved panels of the choir for fuel. The fatal issue of I. the late war, and the revolt of Teigue O’Rourke, who, after 1 the defeat at Kinsale, as I have already told you, joined the ! enemies of his country, completed the ruin of Creevelea ; for he \ who would have restored, nay, renewed its beauty, now lies i'. sleeping his last sleep in the cloister of Bosserilly.” |! “And how fared it with that traitorous Teigue asked i “ As he deserved,” replied the provincial; “ for the English, ! on the accession of James I., rewarded his recreancy with the i title of knight, and made him a grant of some hundreds of acres in the ancient principality of BrefFny. He did not, however, I live long to enjoy either title or lands, for he died in 1605, and I was buried in the ancestral tomb at Creevelea. IVIay Grod ' assoil him ! for he hated his step-brother, the rightful prince of Breffny, and would not rest in the same sepulchie with him 1 “ ’Tis a sad instance of fraternal discord,” observed father “ Only one of the many which wrought Ireland’s ruin, dear friend,” added the provincial. ‘‘ Alas, to what excesses will not ambition and sordid self-interest impel even the hearts of brothers ! Is it not "V^irgil w^ho says of that passion “ ‘ Tu potes unanimes armare in proelia fratres ’ ? and does not Eucan tell us in his ‘ Pharsalia that a brother s I blood shed by a brother’s hand was the first to stain the walls of Borne ? !, “ ‘ Praterno primi maduerunt sanguine muri.’ ' But why go beyond the inspired books for examples, when we '( can find them in the history of Jacob and Esau, of Absolom and Ammon, and in that of Lisimachus and Menelaus 1 / “ True, true,” replied father Purcell; ’tis the old story of I Eteocles 'and Polynices repeating itself. The ashes of these two brothers, conscious of resentment to the last, would not ‘ consume on the same pyre ; and perhaps—shall I hazard the 80 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE reflection'?—perhaps the bones o£ those O’Rourkes would not crumble in peace had they been laid in the same sepulchi’e— “ ‘ Fratnim quoque gratia rara est,’ as Ovid hath it.” What an extravagant supposition ! ” remarked the pro¬ vincial. “ But, instead of indulging such idle fancies, let us pray that the Irish of future times, warned by the calamities that have fallen upon their predecessors, will guard against an accursed policy, which has worked out its worst ends by sow¬ ing the seeds of dissension in hearts created by God to struggle and combine for their country’s happiness. Little more remains to be said of Creevelea; for when Bryan, son of Teigue the usurper, was summoned to London in 1615, and told that he should allow his lands to be colonized by English and Scotch undertakers, he refused to agree to such a proposal, and was then immured in the tower, where he is at this moment. BrefFny, meanwhile, was parcelled out between Villiers, duke of Buckingham, and the Hamiltons, who scourged the native population vdth a rod of iron. As for the monas¬ tery, it was leased to one Harrison, who, in consideration of an annual and exorbitant rent, allowed the friars to cover a portion of the church with thatch, and themselves, now reduced to four or five, to live as best they may in miserable shielings near the ancient monastery. A truculent, grasping ■wretch is this Harrison; for he no sooner discovered that peculiar trait of the Irish character—I mean the hereditary love of being in¬ terred in the graves of their forefathers, or within the precincts of some hallowed ruin—than he erected a gate at the entrance of the cemetery, and levied toll on every corpse that was brought to be buried there.” “ A veritable Charon,” observed father Purcell;” who will not allow the dead to cross the Stygian lake, till he has received his piece of money ! ” < “ Or rather one, ” replied the provincial, who ignores the virtues which recommended Tobias to the angel Raphael. We have talked far into the night; so for the present enough.” We may supplement Mooney’s narrative by stating that Cree¬ velea was repaired by the Franciscans in 1642, when sir Owen O’Rourke made an attempt to recover the lordship and lands of his ancestors; but, at the close of the Cromwellian war, that family was once more involved in the general confiscations. That some of the O’Rourkes, however, still clung to their natal FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 81 I I soil is quite certain, as we learn from the beautiful epitaph, !*• which Teigue O’Hoddy, of Crossfield, co. Leitrim, composed for i one of them, who died young, in 1671. ! CONDITUR . EXIGUA . ROURK . HAC . BERNARDUS . IN . URNA . ‘ STIRPE . PERILLUSTRI . MENTE . LYRAQUE . LINUS . HIC. PUDOR . HIPPOLITI . PARIDIS . GENA . PECTUS . ULYSSIS . ^NEAE . PIETAS . HECTORIS . IRA . JACET . f FLOS . JUVENUM . SPLENDOR . PROAVUM . JUNII . IDIBUS . ^ EHEU ! ‘ INTERIIT . RUTILOS . VECTUS . AD. USQUE . POLOS . As for the Franciscans, they continued to lixe in thatched cabins in the neighbourhood, of the monastery; and be it recorded ' to their honour, one of them, in 1718, taught the venerable I Charles O’Conor, of Belanagare, the first rudiments of Latin, as ,1‘ he himself tells us in his memoirs. At present Creevelea is a ; very extensive ruin, containing, along with the tomb of its I founder—alas, neglected and fast crumbling away—various fragments of monuments to the O’Murroghs, Cornins, and other ancient families of Brefihy-O’Bourke. CHAPTEB YIII. THE MONASTERY OF CLONMEL. The monastery of St. Francis at Clonmel is justly classed j among the most splendid of the many houses belonging to our i order in Ireland; and even to the present day a small commu¬ nity of the friars retain a portion of their ancient church, where they celebrate the divine mysteries. The history of its founda¬ tion is involved in obscurity ; for some say that it owes its origin j' to the family of the Fitzgeralds of Desmond, whereas others affirm i that it was founded by Otho de Crandison, who, in 1269, not ( only gave the friars a considerable sum of money to erect the j church, convent, and its appurtenances, but also bestowed on it a rich tract of land, sites for mills, and two or three fishing weirs on the Suir. At the dissolution of the religious houses, that of Clonmel shared the fate of all similar establishments in ^ the province of Munster; for, by an inquisition taken 8th of |! March, 31st king Flenry VIII., it appears that the then guar- y diaii was seised of a church and steeple, dormitory, hall, three -| chambers, a store, kitchen, stable, two gardens of one acre, toge- ■| ther with four messuages, six acres of arable land, four gardens, a fishing-pool and weii’ in Clonmel—all of which was parcelled 82 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE out, May 19th, 34th of same king, between the sovereign and commonalty of Clonmel, and James earl of Ormond, to be held for ever in ca^nte by the said grantees, at a small annual rent. Nevertheless, although the friars were dispossessed of the lands, weirs, &c., with which De Crandison had endowed them, the inhabitants of Clonmel insisted on retaining the church, cemetery, and sacristy, of which they held possession in the year 1615, when father Mooney, then provincial of the Franciscans, v^isited the place. To this zealous friar, on whose valuable ma¬ nuscript notices of the convents of his order we have heretofore drawn so copiously, we are indebted for the following particulars regarding the monastery of Clonmel. At the period of his visi¬ tation, already specified, he found the church in good repair, the architecture very magnificent, and nearly all the requirements of a conventual establishment in as good condition as if Henry VIII., Elizabeth, and other plunderers of the religious houses had never thought of Clonmel. In fact, Mooney tells us, that the altars were still standing in the church, and that in the centre of the choir there was a very gorgeous monument,* consisting of groups of marble statues, to the memory of the lord baron of Cahir, together with many other memorials of the same charac¬ ter, to mark the last resting-place of the nobles who were wont to bury within the sacred precincts. Father Mooney, however, says, that he was greatly scandalized by the conduct of some Jesuits and other ecclesiastics, who, in the absence of the Fran¬ ciscans, allowed the remains of the Protestant sovereign of Clon¬ mel to be interred close by lord Cahir’s monument in the choir, and that he caused the body to be exliumed in the night time and buried elsewhere. This, he informs us, he did with the per¬ mission of the archbishop of Cashel. At the period of father Mooney’s visitation, it would appear that the Jesuits and secular clergy had possession of the conventual church, the former alleging that they had a grant of it from pope Paul V., and the latter supporting them in their pretensions; so much so, that the citizens, acting under the influence of the Jesuits and secular clergy, on two different occasions refused to receive a commu¬ nity of Franciscans into their town. The provincial, how¬ ever, a very sturdy man, took active measures to re-establish the claims of the brotherhood ; and it was finally decided, by a papal rescript, that they should take possession of their ancient church, the opposition of the Jesuits and secular clergy not- * See Appendix R, •' FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 83 ^ witlistanding. Father Mooney’s next effort was to get back from the representatives of the earl of Ormond, the original grantee, some portion of the ancient endowments of the monas- ; tery, but we need hardly say that he was unsuccessful. I He insisted that the friars were entitled to the building; called : the “ Aula Comitis,” or earl’s palace, standing hard by the monastery; and that the fishing-weir and mills on the Suir should be restored to them. But, despite all his instances, he could get no redress from the heirs of lord Ormond; and ' the lands, mills, weirs, and fishing-pools escheated for ever from the friars. Of the ‘‘ Aula Comitis,” or earl’s palace, we ' believe there has been no vestige in the memory of the oldest inhabitant of Clonmel; but it may interest some to know that it I stood within the precincts of the convent grounds, in Kilshelan- i street, and was one of those edifices which some of the Irish ’ nobility built in the \ficinity of religious houses, to serve them j for a temporary residence while going through a course ef peni- I. tential exercises. ' In 1615, all the buildings of the convent, with the exception I of the church and cloister, were entirely dilapidated; but the j then earl of Ormond remodelled the infirmary, and converted it L into a dwelling-house, which was subsequently given as a mar¬ riage dowry to the lady Helen de Barry, whose second hus¬ band was Thomas, earl of Somerset. Mooney petitioned to have this edifice given to the Franciscans, but his memorial was rejected, and the friars were constrained to fix their abode in a house which they rented. To this convent of Clonmel be¬ longed a far-fa-med statue of St Francis, which father Mooney tells us was rescued from the iconoclasts of the days of king Henry and queen Elizabeth—a statue in the presence of which no one could commit perjury without incurring the penalty of sudden death, or, at all events, without having the whole truth brought to light by a special interposition of heaven. This * statue or image was enshrined in the sacristy of the church when father Mooney visited Clonmel; and we would suggest that some one should look after it, as it is likely enough that a relic so venerated may be still in existence, secreted somewhere j in or about the remains of the old monastery. To these meagre details regarding the Franciscan convent of Clonmel, we have t only to add what father Mooney says of its site, namely that it was most happily chosen—picturesque and commanding, though built inside the town wall, and in a corner of the city —in angulo civitatis. J With this venerable edifice we must naturallv associate the I 84 THE KISE AND FALL OF THE memory of a higlily distingiiislied Franciscan, of wiiom liis native land, and Clonmel in particular, may justly be proud ; for, indeed, his voluminous writings, and the esteem in which he was held by the celebrities of his day, must always entitle him to our respect and veneration. Flow very few of the many who frequent the little church of St. Francis in Clonmel, ever think that more than two centuries ago there lived a townsman of their own, who, when a mere stripling, was wont to kneel and pray within the same hallowed precincts ; and who, in his maturer years, acquired a world-wide renown as a profound metaphysician, theologian, poet, and historian ! And yet each of these attributes has been freely accorded to a native of Clon¬ mel, whose numerous and learned works are the clearest evi¬ dences, not alone of a master mind, but of industry which has seldom been equalled before or since the time in which he flourished. Father Bonaventure Baron, the individual to whom we have been alluding, was born in Clonmel early in the seventeenth century; and after completing his preparatory studies in that city, proceeded to Borne, probably in 1636, just eleven years after his uncle, the celebrated Luke Wadding, had founded the convent of S. Isidoro for Irish Franciscans. Wad¬ ding soon perceived that his sister’s son possessed grand abili¬ ties, which were destined to reflect honour on the order of which he himself was even then foremost among the great; and he accordingly resolved to spare no pains in forwarding the education of his nephew and protege. Congeniality of tastes, and a never-wearying love of research in the wide domain of history and speculative science, endeared these ardent students to each other, and caused them to concentrate all their energies on one grand object, equally valued by both, namely, the revival of the literary glory of the Franciscans, and the pre¬ servation from oblivion of the memories of the great men of the same body, who conferred such signal service on mankind during that long and dismal period when knowledge and civilization could find no biding-place outside the cloister. It would be superfluous to recount all that Wadding achieved in this wonderful self-imposed task, of which he has left us so many valuable monuments, evidencing genius of the highest order, and industry which challenged the encomiums of sir James Ware, who, his Protestantism notwithstanding, could appreciate such gigantic labours, amounting to thiiFeen or four¬ teen tomes, eight of which (the Annals) are large folio, to say nothing of other works which this great Irishman projected. As for Baron, it would appear that he had made up his mind FKANCISCAN ONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 85 to rival Ms preceptor and patron ; and, indeed, it may be said that in some respects the pnpil outstripped the teacher in the rapidity with which he produced some of his earliest works. Considering the various duties that devolved on him after his ordination, when he was appointed to teach theology in the school of S. Isidoro, and discharge other offices connected with that establishment, we cannot but wonder how one man could have written so much, so learnedly, and on such a variety of topics, before he had yet hardly passed that period which Dante calls the mid-term of life. And yet such is the fact; for we have it on the authority of father Wadding himself, that his nephew had actually written in Latin, singularly remarkable for its elegance, some five or six volumes, while he was yet considerably under thirty-three years of age. The titles of some of these, strange as they must appear in an English translation, will show how versatile was the genius of this eminent man, and with what facility he could turn from the profounder pur¬ suit of studies, philosophical and theological, to the cultivation of the muses, and, indeed, of almost every department of light literature. The dates, too, of some of his numerous publica¬ tions, will prove what we have already asserted, namely, that his industry was indefatigable, and, we might almost say, un¬ equalled. Thus, the “ Panegyrical Orations,” the first volume which he published at Pome, in 1643, was, two years after¬ wards, followed by his “ Miscellaneous Poems, including Epi¬ grams and Eulogiums of Eminent Men.” In 1651 he edited his ‘‘ Philosophical Essays ;” and in the same year ‘‘ The Dia¬ tribe on Silence,” or “ Harpocrates Quinqueludius,”—a work in which he displays an extensive knowledge of all the ancient systems of philosophy, and profound acquaintance with the writings of the most celebrated of the Christian apologists in the early ages. In fact, it would seem as if the energies of this wonderful man never fiagged—that his active mind needed no relaxation; for not only the printing-presses of Pome, but those of Paris, Lyons, Florence, Wurtzburg, and Cologne found ample employment from his pen, which at intervals of two, • three, or more years, gave to the world no less than six volumes, three of which are large folio, devoted to theological and philo¬ sophical controversies, and a vindication of that great luminary of the fourteenth century. Duns Scotus, or the Subtle Doctor, he, too, a Franciscan, the fame of whose learning drew together upwards of thirty thousand students to Oxford, when he taught in that university. Besides the works we have already speci¬ fied, father Baron wrote a “ Course of Theology,” in six tomes ; 86 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE and, towards the close of his life, he published, at Rome, the first volume (folio) of the “Annals of the Order of the Most Holy Trinity for the Redemption of Captives,” commencing with the year 1198, and carrying it down to 1267. This re¬ markable work narrates the foundation of the various houses of the order, and, along with biographies of its most eminent men, gives interesting details of the number of captives rescued from the horrors of Saracen bondage, by the heroic charity of a single brotherhood, who, in their day, rendered signal services to their fellowmen. Father Baron proposed to himself to continue this history down to his own times ; but, growing feeble and blind, after expending such an amount of vitality on the works we have enumerated, he was obliged to renounce the pen towards the close of the year 1686. The remaining ten years of his life were for him a series of great bodily infirmities, rendered all the more painful by the total loss of sight, till, at length, after having spent over sixty years in Rome, he died, at a great old age, in the convent of S. Isidoro, and was buried near the grave of Luke Wadding in 1696. The respect in which this native of Clonmel was held by the great men of his period was such, that he might well be proud of it, if a heart like his could find place for self-esteem; but he was above all such petty weaknesses, and cared more for the honour of his order than he did for his own glorification. Ne¬ vertheless, the criticisms of his great contemporaries pronounced him to be “ a man among men,” and a writer who deserved to occupy a niche in the temple of fame. As volume after volume came from his pen, the reviewers hailed them, each and all, with most respectful praise ; and, among those who were fore¬ most in lauding the labours of the Clonmel friar, we find a countryman of his own, Neal O’Glacan, R native of Donegal, who professed medicine in the universities of Toulouse and Bologna, wrote a “ Cursus Medicus,” and other works on cognate sub¬ jects, and was finally appointed physician and privy councillor to the king of France. As for father Baron, he, too, had honours bestowed on him by another potentate; for Cosimo III., grand duke of Tuscany, elected him to fill the envied place of historiographer and theologian to his court in 1676. The grand duke, in his letter of appointment, states that he conferred this high honour on Baron because he had won fame in the schools where he taught, as well as in the various departments of polite literature. We may also add that Magliabecchi, the celebrated keeper of Cosimo’s library, and one of the most distinguished See Appendix S. FEANCISCAN MOXASTEEIES IN IRELAND. 87 men of liis time, liiglily appreciated the subject of this brief me¬ moir, and was proud of the friendly relations that existed be tween them. Father Baron’s works have become very rare his poetical compositions especially. The poem we reproduce, with translation by S. Ferguson, deputy-keeper of the Bolls, will give the reader some idea of the father’s style, which is occasionally subtle. We may well suppose that he was anxious to be re¬ membered among the poets of the Franciscan order, two of whom have left us the “ Dies Irse,” and “ Stabat Mater. * BAEONII IN MORTEM MARI^ WADDINOdS MATRTS SUiE. Chara parens, quam prseeipite te pollice solvit Impatiens fatis parcere Parca tuis ! Nil natura tibi ; minimum fortuna negavit ; Ambabus gemina freta parente parens. ^ Purpureas succensa genas, trabeata caxhllos ; M essuit arcana Irons tua mentis opes. Virginibus, viduis, genialibus aucta corollis, Audis illustri sanguine, prole, thoro ; Et fugis ? et fas est : patrio quota pignora coelo Digna, peregrina ne remorentur bumo. Dear mother mine, "with what a thumb of haste Impelled, fate’s scissors have your threads unlaced! You Nature nothing. Fortune nought denied. Parent, well parented on either side. Still ruddy-cheeked, still robed with tresses wrought. Round grave brow garnered with the wealth of thought, Crowned with all chaplets of a genial life. Maid’s, widow’s, happy mother, happy wife, Most honored! and you leave us. Be it so. Heaven’s pledge from alien earth should early go. CHAPTEB IX. OTHER CONVENTS, BRIEFLY NOTICED BY FATHER MOONEY, WITH ADDITIONAL DETAILS BY THE EDITOR. Armagh.— A.D. 1264, Maelpatrick O’Scannail, archbishop of Armagh, introduced the Franciscans to the primatial city, and MacDomiell, chief of O’NeiU’s galloglasses (heavy-armed body- . 1106, Maguire, prince of Fermanagh, founded a house for regular canons of the order of St. Augustine, on the western shore of Lough Erne. There the lords of that delightful island-region had their last resting-place, and there, too, were interred their historians and poets—the O’Keenans, and the O’Husseys. Munificent benefactors of Lisgool were the Maguires, and none of them departed this life without leaving some mark of his veneration for its ciiuich and community. How many proofs might be given of their zeal for the beauty of that holy house ! Let one suffice. Alba, daiightei of Hugh, prince of Fermanagh, the year before her decease, retired from the world, and bestowed all she possessed on the fraternity of Lisgool, where she was buried with her forefathers, A.H. 1477. Over a hundred years afterwards, the then loid of Feimanagh, perceiving that the abbot, a kinsman of his own, took little or no pains to preserve the monastery, which was a monument of the piety of his ancestors, resolved that it should be transferred to the Franciscans. But as this could, not be efiected without consent of Pome, Maguii’e, and Cornelius MacCardell, ;j! bishop of Clogher, referred the project to his holiness, who not only * Father Francis Harold, Luke W^adding s nephew and biographer, who compiled an abridgment of his uncle’s “ Annale^’ was a native of Limerict:, and professed theology and philosophy in Eome, rrague, ana Vienna. He was chronographer of the Franciscan order, and died, iuhilate lector, in St. Isidore’s, Eome, 1685. The first stone of the new Franciscan 'convent in Limerick was laid by most reverend Dr. Butler, IMav 28, 1876; the eloquent bishop of Ardagh preachingmn the solemn occasion. For many valuable notices of the Limerick Franciscans, see Lenehan’s exhaustive history of that city. . t LisgabhaiL—the fort of the river fork. t Alias Mercadell. ^ H 98 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE approved it, but exliorted the prince to carry out his designs. Thereon the abbot surrendered his title to Maguire, who guaran¬ teed that the former and his representatives should sustain no loss by the incoming of the Minorites. [The deed executed on this occasion has been preserved in King’s Collections, K.D.S., translated from the original Latin in the Annales Kenaghtenses :— These are the articles between Cuchonnaght Maguire, lord of Fermanagh, of one part, and my lord abbott of Liosgowel, viz., Cahal McBrian Magwyer, of the other part, about the abbey of the said Liosgowel, which heretofore was possessed of the monks of St. Augustine, now gone to mine and base decay, for want of reparation and devine service. Magwyer, being grieved at his own and the chiefest of his countrie’s selected se¬ pulchre to be so ruinated, intreated the forementioned my lord abbott to surrender his titles and right in the abbey, and suffer himself to provide for it another order, that should maintain and keep the abbey in due reparation and continuall devine ser¬ vice. My lord abbot, being moved by the intreaty of Maguire, by the consent of the then lord bishop and chapter, this mutual consent of the abbot, bishop, and chapter, was sent to the pope. The pope, agreeing to the mind of the bishop, sent letters and straite commanding charge to expel the order of St. Augtistine, in whose possession the abby decayed, and there establish the order of St. Francis, which should keep the abby in all dutifull offices thereunto belonging. The bishop, receiving the pope’s letters, incontinently did put them in execution, and ratified the abby unto ye order of St. Francis. Magwyer, having enjoyed the assent of the abbot, bishop, and pope, built and re-edified anew, nigh the place where it was formerly built, being better and far more commodious a place for sundry respects ; to the honour of God and St. Francis, to the utility and profit, both of his own soul, his father’s, and all his name in general. Maguire, in obtaining the abbot’s voluntary assent in the premises, re¬ warded him by a temporal recompence—to wit, ten dry cows yearly, and every year, for ever, for himself, and all other Mag- wyers him succeeding, to be paid unto the abbot and his heirs after him. The cows are in manner following to be paid, viz. ; as much as shall be due ratably upon his own lands, to receive it in first part of payment; and the remnant of the cows are in manner following to be leviable and paid out of the lands of Carrig. Moreover, the abbot changed two tates, known by the names of Drumcon one tate, and the tate whereon the monastery standeth, which Maguire bestowed upon the friars, for the great FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 99 tate called Lathragli, with the appurtenances thereunto belong¬ ing unto himself and his heirs successively; and if any of the natives of Claen-inis* would make claim thereunto, is for ever voided and of no forceable effect, in regard the whole authorita¬ tive and disposition of the lands of Claen-inis came from the pope unto Maguire ere he was created lord, and then had both the authorities, as well of the . . . lands of Claen-inis, by mutual consent of spirituall and temporall superiors. It is like- Avise agreed that the abbott and his heirs are to enjoy and pos¬ sess the rest of the lands of the abby, together with spirituall duties and beneficial provents thereunto belonging. Item, a place for a house and garden is reserved for the abbot and his heirs, upon the land exchanged and bestowed upon the fryers. Item, the abbot and his heirs are in the affectionate and special prayer, honour and councell of the fryers, above all men in the whole country, Magwyer only excepted. Item, no abbot hence¬ forward is to be called in the abby or monastry. Item, the fryers are to warrant, defend, and patronise the dwellers of the rest of the lands of the abby, as Avell as those inhabiting the exchanged lands by the abbot Avith Maguire, and by him bestowed upon the fryers. Item, the abbot, as far as he may, is to keep and observe towards the fryers and theirs, all honours and privileges, both in spirituall and temporall authority. Item, the abby lands are to enjoy at the hands of the Magwyer, and all other Magwyers him succeeding, all honours, privileges, and liberty whatsoever by them formerly enjoyed when the abby flourished, without taxing them A^th any country charges, in¬ cumbrances, or impositions. Item, if any debate or controversy should at any time arise, either between MagAvyer, or any other Magwyer .... the fryers are to enjoy and possess theii’ grant notAvithstanding . . . . whoever shall gainsay or in any Avuse contradict this agreement is liable to the payment of the following fines and forfeits, that is to say, one hundred cows, to be payable unto Magwyer, and to each Magwyer him folloAvdng, his heirs, and whole name, together with twenty cows, payable unto the race of Brien Maguire, and twenty cows unto each other name or sect [clan] now in request and power Avithin this country, viz., McManus, Caffrie, the Hughes, and O^Hoines. Item, besides these fines payable to the specified names or sects, the disturber or disturbers of the fryers or their monastery is to suffer banishment and exile out of the whole country of Fermanagh during the power and might of the same * Cleenish, i.e. Sloping Island. 100 THE KISE AND FALL OF THE names and sects. Item, another fine of . . . cows out of the goods and lands of the beginner of disturbances are payable unto the poets, viz., O’Hosies and McCrifferties, who will reprove, infame, and reprehend the disturber in their tamiting poems; otherwise, the ordinary fine of twenty cows to be levied out of their own goods or lands. Item, the churchmen of all sorts within the country are to excommunicate the forenamed sects or names if they fail in taking these fines or forfeits. Item, the like fines and forfeits are duly payable to the abbot and his heirs, and unto said sects and poets, out of the goods and lands of him and them that will not fulfill and perform the forepassed articles. Finally, one hundred cows be payable unto O’Neill, and all other O’Neills for the time in the like manner. O’Neill is likewise to further and help the rest against the disturber or disturbers. Torlogh O’Neill is lord of Tiron, Manus O’Donnell lord of Tirconnell, Cuchonnaght Magwyer lord of Fermanagh, Brian McBrian O’Boirk lord of Brefiny, and Daniel McTaig O’Connor lord of lower Connaught. At the perfecting of the said deed being present, God before all, the bishop of Clogher, viz., Cornelius McCardell, the dean and ofiiciall of Clogher, Cahal Maguire, the dean of Lough Erne, the same abbot that was in Lisgowell, the dean of Clann Hugh and his clergy, Owyn O’Duffie, minister provincialis, Walter McCuard, the guardian of Armagh, William McCormack, the guardian of Lisgowell, and his fryers, McGuire, McCafirie, McManus, with many others. “iGino Dili. 15—. ‘‘ Cornelius, Epus. Clogh. “ Hugo, Decanus Clogh. “ Donaldus, Officialis Clogh. “ Eugenius O’Dutfie, Minister Provincialis. ^ “ Magwyer. “ Cahal Magwyer, the Abbot.” It is hard to determine the precise time when the Franciscans superseded the canons regular; but supposing they did not enter into possession till the foregoing deed was executed, we must conclude that this remarkable event took place about 1567, when Cornelius MWrdell was bishop of Clogher, andTurlogh O’Neill had been inaugurated lord of Tyrone. At all events, it is quite certain that Maguire was not able, owing to the turbulence of the times, to complete the new building, which, however, was tenanted by Franciscans until 1598, when they were obliged to seek refuge in the neighbouring mountains. Having returned to the convent after an interval of some years, we find them there in 1631, when Michael O’Cleary and his four assistants FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 101 began to compile the “ Book of Invasions,”'^ niider the protec¬ tion of Brien Boe Maguire, the first of his race created a peer of Ireland by Charles L, by the title of lord Maguire, baron of Enniskillen. This lord, dying, was succeeded by his son Conor, who received his education in the convent of Lisgool, and proved himself a generous patron of the friars. Having taken a leading part in the insurrection of 1641, he was betrayed and committed to the tower of London, tried for high treason in 1644, and hanged at Tyburn. A short time previously he made his will, which clearly proves that he never forgot the convent on the shore of lough Erne, before whose altar he often knelt in youth, and at which he desired to be remembered after his heroic soul had gone to its account.! “ I do enjoin my said heirs, executors, the equal distribu¬ tions, and give fifty pounds to those convents or friaries fol¬ lowing :—that is, Lisgool, twenty pounds; ten pounds to sun¬ dry of the convents of Ardmagh, Cavan, and Monaghan ; and that to have Masses said for my soul. And I do most ardently pray that this money be given with the greatest speed that may be. ... “ I do desire those, my friends, herein mentioned, and all others my friends, to have many Masses and prayers said for my soul; and last of all, I do appoint this, my will, to be and remain in custody of the Friars of Lisgool, whom I entreat to keep it safely in their custody, until it pleases God that the contents be fulfilled; and also to send authorised copies of it to each of these, my friends, entrusted and mentioned by me as above mentioned. I do likewise beseech the said Friars to solicit, frequently and earnestly, all those that ought from time to time to fulfil and perform this, my last will and testament, to be mindful of their duties in discharging their parts; and also I do desire the said Friars to be mindful always in all their Masses and prayers to pray for my soul. . . . “ What is in this paper contained, although with many blots and interlinings, is my last will and testament, and so I desme it may be confirmed and taken to all intents. I did intend to have it fairly written after this form and meaning herein con¬ tained, but that I was denied this. I enjoin and desire it may * A narrative in Gaelic of the early successive colonizations of Ireland, t The trial of Lord Maguire is one of the most remarkable among the “State Trials” of the seventeenth century, and his conduct on the scaffold,when teazed and insulted hy canting hypocrites, shows that he died a thorough Catholic—a true martyr to his faith and country—both at that period persecuted hy Parsons Borlase and other puritans. 102 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE be fulfilled in all as if it had been fairly engrossed, and to that intent I now have put my hand and seal to this draft, the day and year above written. “ Connor Enniskillen.” Although the premises were seized by the Crown early in the reign of James I., the Franciscans must have been in the neighbourhood so late as 1739, when sir Bryan Maguire, knight of the order of St. Louis, gave a chalice for the use of the con¬ vent of Lisgoole near Inniskilling. Just now there is hardly a vestige of the ancient building, and even the graveyard, says the learned and highly accomplished artist, Wakeman, “ has been devoted to agricultural purposes.”* Thus abbots, warlike chiefs, and fair ladies returned to dust, have made that spot loamy If—E d.] Quin. I—A.D. 1402, Mac ISTamara, lord of Clan-Coilein, founded a monastery for Conventual Franciscans within^ short distance of Dromoland, and on the site of the ancient church dedicated to St. Finghin. A princely benefactor to our friars was that chief of the broad lands lying between the Fergus and the Shannon; and it is almost superfluous to add that the once splendid convent of Quin, even in its ruin, testifies his high appreciation of architectural grace and elegance. He laid its foundation close by a gentle stream, and the material employed for the fabric was a fine black marble. The principal entrance was approached by an easy ascent, and the worshipper, on reaching the threshold, beheld the magnificent grand altar, and two small ones on either side of the chancel arch. Here, too, was the richly sculptured tomb of the founder, and in close proximity to it were the monuments of the O’Kennedys, and other noble families of Clare, many of whom took our poor habit on the bed of death. Dormitory, refectory, library, cloister, beautiful square campanile, and all other requirements, were generously supplied by the munificence of the lord Clan- Choilean. A.D. 1433, another Mac Namara, surnamed Dali — i.e. the blind—memorialed pope Eugene lY. to send the Observantines to Quin; for about that period the blessed Bernardin of Sienna, ♦ “ Scenery of Lough Erne,” Mullany, Dublin. t In the third year of James I. a lease was granted to William Bradley, of Dublin, gentleman, of the site, &c., of the religious house of St. Francis, near to the late dissolved abbey of canons of Lisgoole. It was subsequently granted to sir John Davies, as it appears by an inquisition taken at En¬ niskillen, 16th March, 1660, that he was then seized thereof. j Hibernice “ Ouinche.” FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 103 was reviving tlie primitive fervour of the Franciscans. Quin, therefore, was the first of the Irish houses which adopted that reformation. In 1583, the very year in which the great earl of Desmond was treacherously slain for English gold by O’Moriarty, our friars were expelled from their beloved pre¬ cincts, of which queen Elizabeth made a grant to Tunoug i O’Brien, of Inishdyman, as a reward for recreancy to his Ood and country. . i ^ Waterford.— This convent was founded iii the reign ot Henry III. A.D. 1240, by Hugo Purcell, a pious magnate, whose recumbent effigy may still be seen in our much-injured church. Within the same precincts the great family ot the Powers of Curraghmore had their ancestral tomb, and there, among others, were interred Bichard the baron, and his holy wife, the lady Catherine Barry, daughter of the Barry Mor, viscount Buttevant. The church Avas a spacious and beauti u. edifice, with its numerous altars, and all the other requirements befitting it. It was held in great esteem by Henry III., who annually granted to the brotherhood a considerable sum tor the purchase of habits; and I may not forget to state that his successor, king Edward I., was extremely fond of, and liberal to, our Waterford house. During the reign of EdAvard 1V., a proAuncial chapter was held there ^ but Avhen Heniy abiured his fealty to God and the supreme see of Home, t le house was dissolved and granted to one Patrick Walsh and the brethren of the hospital of the Holy Ghost. Then commenced the ruin and dilapidation of our stately church, which those tasteless impropriators made an asylum, for the sick, part of the sacred edifice, however, remained untouched, and there several families of Waterford continued to bury in then ancient tombs. Our convent gave two prelates to the see ot Waterford—Boger Cradock, O.S.E., in the year of our Lord 1350 ; and in 1472, Bichard Martin, jubilate lecturer, Avas advanced by Pope Paul II. to the united sees of Waterford and Lismore. In 1521 the Waterford Franciscans adopted the strict observance. A very distinguished writer in Ins time was one of the brotherhood, namely, William De Watertord, who signalized himself by exposing the heresy of the Wicklit- ites. I was in Waterford in 1615, and assisted at the secret chapter which, all unworthy as I was, elected me minister pro¬ vincial. Our friars were then living clandestinely in a house they rented; and had to be constantly on their guard against their truculent enemies. The Catholics, however, Avere true to the brotherhood, and generously sustained them even at their 104 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE imminent peril. When I was there, I was told that the remains of one John Luker, a member of our institute, which had lain for centuries beneath the floor of the church, were found in a state of perfect preservation, a sign, I take it, that the de¬ ceased was a special favourite of heaven, which often manifests its complacence in this mysterious fashion. A singularly gifted young member of our order—Luke Wadding, of whom, doubt¬ less, you have heard, was born in Waterford, in 1588, and is now, in the thirteenth year of his religious profession, teaching theology with great distinction in the learned city of Salamanca. I remember seeing the splendid tomb of the Wadding family in the church ; and even now I call to mind the intense sorrow of young Wadding’s father when the remains of his wife, Anastatia Lombard, had to be interred in the cemetery of the priory of the canons of St. Augustine^ because she died of the pestilence which deso¬ lated the southern towns of Ireland, in 1602. Fondly united in life, they were denied the consolation of resting in the same sepulchre. Luke, the child of their united loves and hopes, I venture to predict will one day reflect lustre on their name and memory.* I have not a word to add to this meagre notice of our house in that ancient city of the Ostmen, who there embraced the religion of Christ. Wexford. —Early in the reign of Henry III., probably, about 1240, the Conventual Franciscans had a house in this maritime town, which accepted the reformation, and became Observantine in 1486. The dearth of records relating to this convent is singularly remarkable, and may, perhaps, be attri¬ buted to the rapacity of one Alexander Devereux, native of Balmagir, who, although abbot of Dunbrody, apostatized, and was made schismatical bishop of Ferns, by Brown, apostate archbishop of Dublin, 1539. This unscrupulous pseudo-prelate thought of nothing but enriching his relations, to whom he made fee-farm leases of nearly all the church lands ; so much so, that his nepotism and selflshness disgusted even the heretics. As might be expected, he ousted our friars from their holy domicile, wFich was granted by Henry VIII., in 1544, to one Paul Turner, and James Devereux—a kinsman, doubtless, of the apostate Cistercian. The ancient buildings thenceforth fell into decay, but some of the Observantines continued to live * When Waterford, Kilkenny, and other Irish cities shall have become acquainted with the great men born in their midst, it is to be hoped that they will be honoured by some monument commemorative of their splendid achievements. Does not Wadding, priest, scholar, and patriot, deserve a statue in his birth-place ? FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 105 in the neighbourhood, where they were generously sheltered and maintained by the people, who pitied and loved them, in 1615, father James Synnott rented a house in the town tor a small community, and there they minister to the spiritual wan s of the people, as well as the cmcumstances of the times permi . [About Easter-tide, 1654, four of the Franciscans were ar¬ rested in Wexford by Cromwellian officers, who had theni hano-ed without formality of trial, in the neighbourhood oi their ancient convent. Five years previously, on the memo¬ rable 11th of October, 1649, the Franciscans were involved in the massacre which took place in the streets, wlmn the town was captured by Cromwell. French, bishop of Ferns, who a that time lay sick in a village near Wexford, and had a narrow escape from the Cromwellian soldiers, has left us the following vivid narrative of the butchery, which the reader may peruse in the original, as well as translation : _ “ Omnia amisi undecimo Octob. a. 1649. Ilia funestissima die civitas Wexfordia gentilitia, opibus, ratibus, _ mercimoniis tlorens, in ore gladii deleta fuit, et furenti mihti in pr«dam data a Cromvello, peste imperii Anglicani. Cecidemnt ante altare Dei victimee sacrse, sancti Domini sacerdotes. Alii extra fores templi reperti flagellis csesi sunt, alii capti et vincti cate- nis, alii suspensi, crudeliter necati. Fundebatur darns civium sanguis, quo inundabant platoeas. Yix erat domus non foedata strage, et plena ploratu. In ipso palatio immaniter trucidati sunt unus ephoebus, amabilis puer, hortulanus, et sacristanus, capellanum vero, quern domi reliqueram, sex gravibus bus affectum reliquerunt in cruore suo volutatuni.^ Ft lisec abominanda facta sunt in facie solis a profanis sicariis . A qua die non vidi (quod me fecit hominum sub sole misernmum) civitatem, gregem, patriam, gentem. A civitatis excidio vixi in sylvis quinque mensibus, in horas ad necem qusesitus. ibi erat potus mens lac et aqua, panis in arcta mensura, quem^ qui dem seniel spado quinque dieruni non gustavi. Cubavi sub dio sine tecto, et stragulis. Demum sylva in qua delitui, densis hostium turmis circumdata, qui eo^ venerant, ut me caperen , et in Angliam mitterent catenis ligatum, erupi, angeio u e lari me ducente, ac evasi generosi equi velocitate. ‘‘ To his excellency the Internunzio. “ Antwerp, Jan., 16/3. “ On that 11th October, 1649, I lost everything I possessed. On that most fatal clay, Wexford, my native town, then abounci- inv in merchandise, ships, and wealth, was taken at the sword s 106 THE RISE AND FALL OF THE point by that pest of England, Cromwell, and sacked by an infuriated soldiery. Before God’s altar fell several sacred victims, holy priests consecrated to the Lord. Some who were arrested outside the church doors were flogged with scourges, others were laden with chains, while many were hung or other¬ wise cruelly done to death. The best blood of the citizens inun¬ dated the streets, and there was hardly a house that was not filled with slaughter and wailing. In my palace were bar¬ barously butchered an amiable lad not fifteen years old, my gardener, sacristan, and chaplain, whom they left weltering in his blood after he had received six wounds. And these abomi¬ nations were committed in open day by ruthless assassins ! Never since have I seen my native city, flock, country, or people, and this makes me the most wretched of men. After the cap¬ ture t)f the town I lived five months in the woods, hourly sought after by those who would have murdered me. There my drink was milk and water, and small was my portion of bread, without which, on one occasion, I had to live as well as I might five days. I had to sleep in the open air, without roof or blanket. At length the wood in which I lay concealed was surrounded by strong detachments that came to arrest and send me in chains to England ; but, thanks to my tutelar angel, and the fleetness of a well-bred horse, I escaped. ” [Bishop French’s silence about the massacre of the women in the Bull Bing, if indeed such an event took place, is very remarkable. Had his lordship been able to bring such a charge against Cromwell, would he have spared him ‘I But the story never appeared in print till 1758, when Abbe M^Geoghegan published it. French died 1678.] Wicklow.— A.I). 1252, in the reign of Henry III. of Eng¬ land, the O’Byrnes and the O’Tooles founded near that little maritime town a church and dwelling-house for Conventual Franciscans. About 1436 the community adopted the strict observance, and thenceforth our friars continued to minister to the mountain septs, many of whose chiefs they educated, till the reign of Edward YI., who seized the premises, and expulsed Dermot O’Moore, the last guardian. In 1575 sir Henry Har¬ rington obtained a lease of this monastery for a term of twenty- one years, at a small amiual rent. This Harrington sustained a signal defeat at the ford of Bath drum in 1599, when he was routed by the O’Byrnes, and had to fly for his life to his strong¬ hold, Newcastle. The convent of Wicklow was'the poorest of our order in Ireland; for in its tranquillest days it had only nine acres of land and a meadow. I visited it in 1615, when FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES IN IRELAND. 107 tliG venerable cliurcli liad been turned into a coui’t-lionse, wliicb was then filled by noisy and irreverent litigants. The cloister and other appurtenances were sadly dilapidated, and. falling into shapeless ruin. The chancel arch and its beautiful window prove that it was a graceful structure, creditable to the piety of its founders, and the architectural science of those they employed to build it.* . . 1 / X 1 • “ And now, dear friend, ” said the provincial, ‘ our task is ended ; for I have exhausted all the fragmentary memoranda anent our Irish houses that I was able to collect. Let us hope that God will one day inspire some member of our institute to look to the lacunse or inter-historic spaces which ^ we are reluctantly compelled to leave unfilled in this volume. ‘‘Amen!” replied father Purcell; “ and, for my own part, I heartily wish that somebody else had written these pages. Withal, I earnestly beseech the indulgent reader to admit that my essay, notwithstanding its numerous shortcomings, is bettei than none at all Haec a quo vis alio quam a me scribi vellem, a me potius quam a nemine. ” * Father John Colgan, who visited Wicklow a considerable time before the publication of his works (1645-47), says that the ancient_ church oi St. Mantain was then an unfenced rum, with sheep depasturing within its walls: and that this desolation had befallen it in fulfilment ot a prophecy uttered by St. Patrick. Kilmantain, we maj a , was & primitive name of the town and district now called Wick ow. THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. CHAPTER I. On Monday, the 22nd of October, 1645, an armed frigate, with the “ fleur-de-lis ” flying at the main, and carrying at her prow a gilded figure-head of St. Peter, dropped anchor at the mouth of Kenmare river, not far from the point where it falls into the bay to which it gives its name. Soon afterwards a boat was seen pulling shoreward; and a few shepherds, who were attracted to the beach by the sight of the large ship, could easily discern that the party approaching were strangers, and that one among them was a personage of high distinction, an ecclesiastic dressed in costume with which they were not familiar, accompanied by a retinue of twenty-six individuals, whose garb and features left no doubt that they too were natives of a foreign clime. Scarcely had the boat touched land, when the whole party proceeded to a shieling, which the shepherds had erected to protect them from the inclemency of the weather, and set about preparing for the celebration of Mass. It was the feast of St. Philip, bishop of Eermo, an episcopal city in the pontifical states; and he who now robed himself for the holy sacrifice was John Baptist Binuccini, bishop of that see, and nunzio-extraordinary, sent by Innocent X. to the Irish Catholics, then in arms for their king, religion, and country. Good reason had Binuccini to be grateful to God for having enabled him to reach the shores of Munster in safety; for the frigate in which he sailed was nigh falling into the hands of one Plunket, a renegade Irishman, who com¬ manded the parliament squadron, then cruising in the Irish channel, and pursued the St. Peter with two of his vessels fully a hundred miles, till a fire breaking out in the galley of his own ship, compelled him to shorten sail and abandon the chase. It is certain that the nunzio’s frigate would have shown fight had she come within range of Plunket’s guns, for he tells us that the St. Peter’s carronades were cast loose and shotted, and that the Irish, most of whom were soldiers and officers who had THE IRISH HIERARCHY, ETC. 109 fouo-ht in the Netherlands, under Preston and O’Neill, and were now returning home to serve in the confederate ranks, declaied that they would rather die in action and be buried in the sea, than fall into the hands -of the fanatical Puritans, from whom they could expect no quarter. The chances, indeed, were all ao-ainst the St. Peter, for Plunket’s frigate carried heavier mmal, had a larger number of hands, and was in every respect better equipped for emergencies. The fire, however, on board the par¬ liament vessel saved the nunzio, who, like his retinue, was already half-dead of sea sickness, from becoming a prize to Plunket: and .we can easily imagine how the latter cursed the accident that caused him to lose the St. Peter, with its rich freio-ht of gold and silver, arms and ammunition, destined toi the^se of the confederated Irish Catholics, to say nothing of t e person of the pope’s nunzio, who, had his own forecastings been realized, should of necessity have resigned his high function tor a prison in the tower of London. Rinuccini attributed his escajoe to the special guardianship of him whose image decorated the prow of his frigate ; but, be that as it may, the hre in Plunket s cooking galley will account for it proximately. Having celebrated Mass of thanksgiving in the shieling, the nunzio had a large portion of the arms and ammunition and ail the money brought ashore; and finding no safe place for storage nearer or more secure than the old castle of Ardtully, he con¬ verted it into a temporary magazine, and then ordered the bt. Peter to weigh for Waterford, and discharge the residue ot Lie freio-ht in that friendly haven. The wind, however, proving contrary, the vessel had to make for Dingle, where the amis were landed, and soon afterwards sent to Limerick, in ordei o save them from the enemies of the confederates, who, by way of retaliation for not having Rinuccini himself in person, were intent on seizing them. After remainmg two days in the shep¬ herds’ hut, the nunzio proceeded by slow marches to Limeric q keeping clear of the high roads, accepting the hospitality ot tlie nobility and gentry who welcomed him, and escorted bpquadrons of confederate cavalry, commanded by Richard Butler ^rot ler of the marquis of Ormond, who was specially appointed to that duty as soon as Belling, secretary to the supreme council, had announced his arrival in Ireland. ^ ^ On the last day of October, 1645, Eimiccmi entered tlie “V of Limerick, at whose gate he was met by the clergy, and the municipal and military authorities who, in nreceded him to the ancient cathedral, where Richaid Aithu , bishop of the see, awaited his arrival. The venerable prelate, no THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN then far advanced in years, and in broken health, was habited in rich pontificals ; and the nnnzio, familiar as he was in his own country with all that is gorgeous in church costume, could not but admire the splendid crozier and mitre which the bishop used in the solemn function of receiving the pope’s ambassador on the threshold of his metropolitan church. So highly appreciated at that period were the mitre and crozier of Limerick, made for Cornelius O’Dea, bishop of the see in 1418, that they were generally supposed to have been the work of some celestial artificer, and not of mortal hands ; ‘‘ for,” says the legend popularly believed at the time, “ on one occa¬ sion, when there was a synod of prelates in Dublin, it so hap- 2 :)ened that the bishop of Limerick went thither without his pontificals, and was compelled to seek throughout the metropolis a crozier and mitre. At length, when he had given up all hope of getting either, a youth, just landed from a ship which a few moments before had entered the harbour, approached and handed the bishop a case, in which he told him he would find what he was looking for, adding that if he admired them he might appro¬ priate them. The bishop could not but like the rich silver crozier and exquisitely elaborated mitre ; and when he sent a messenger in hot haste after the stranger to pay whatever he might demand for such precious objects, lo, the ship had weighed anchor, and vanished beyond the horizon!” “ The mitre,” says the authority from which the legend is quoted, “ was entrusted to a wealthy Catholic merchant, to keep it from falling into the hands of the so-called reformers ; but the dishonest trader abstracted some of its precious stones, and replaced them with false ones—a sacrilege which heaven avenged on his posterity, for they all died in misery.” To return to the venerable prelate, who, as we have already said, was then aged and in failing health, we may observe that he belonged to a family which had already given a prelate to the see of Limerick, at the close of the fifteenth century; and that his near kinsman, James Arthur, a Dominican friar, and author of a Commentary on the Works of St. Thomas Aquino, ” was then acquiring world-wide renown in Spain and Portugal, where he taught divinity in various schools of his order. We have thus briefly alluded to Pichard Arthur, because he did not live to take a prominent part in the momentous trans- tions which followed the nunzio’s arrival in Ireland. It will not, however, be out of place to state, that he was consecrated by David Pothe, bishop of Ossory, on the 7th September, 1623, the bishop of Cork and Luke Archer, abbot of Holy Cross, THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. Ill assisting at tlie ceremony ; and that he died on the 23rd. May, 1646, and was buried in the tomb of his predecessors, in his own cathedral of Limerick, then recently restored to the uses of that religion for which it was erected. Let us, moreover, mention, as one of the most memorable incidents in this prelate’s life, that it was he who conferred priest’s orders on the celebrated John Lynch, Lucius Gratianiis,nx\\hoToi ''Cambrensis Eversus,” ‘‘ Icon Antistitis,” “ Alithinologia,” and other woiLs by which that distinguished Irish ecclesiastic has attained imperishable celebrity. The prelate who was destined to succeed Richard Arthur, and to occupy a much larger space in the history of his unfoidunate country, was Edmond O’Dwyer, a native of the county of Limerick, who had distinguished himself during his collegiate course at Rouen, where he studied philosophy, and at the Sor- bonne, where he won character for profound knowledge of theology. Soon after obtaining the degree of doctor of divinity at Rheims, he returned to Ireland, and became acquainted with Malachy O’Queely, then vicar-apostolic of Killaloe; and, as we shall see, the intimacy thus formed at the commencement of O’Dwyer’s missionary career, ripened into a warm friendship, which terminated only with the life of the former, many years after he had been promoted to the archiepiscopal see of Tuam. In fact, such was the archbishop’s high appreciation of O’Dwyer’s ability and prudence that he sent him to Rome as his proctor, in 1644, and made him the bearer of a report on the state of his diocese, which he drew up for the Congregation de Propaganda Eide. Along with this valuable document, O’Dwyer was entrusted with a memorial* from the supreme council of the con¬ federates, prajdng his holiness. Urban VIII. to bestow a car¬ dinal’s hat on Luke Wadding, in consideration of the great services he had already rendered to the Irish Catholics then in arms for God, the king, and their country. Urban, however, died before O’Dwyer reached Rome ; and the memorial, signed by O’Queely, Walsh, archbishop of Cashel; Eleming, archbishop of Dublin ; lords Castlehaven, Eermoy, Netterville, and others, fell into the hands of father Luke, who, instead of having it presented to Innocent X., the late pontiffs successor, modestly buried it in the archives of S. Isidoro, where it remained till 1872, when the most reverend the general of the Eranciscans allowed its removal, together with a large collection of most valuable manuscripts, to the convent of St. Erancis, Dublin. * See Appendix A. 112 THE lEISH HIERARCHY IN Tlie liigli opinion wliicli the supreme council entertained of O’Dwyer, whom they styled in their memorial a doptor of divinity, and an ocular witness of their proceedings,” to say nothing of the commendations of archbishop /O’Queely, must have had great weight with the college of cardinals; for, on reaching Paris, on his way to Ireland, after some months’ sojourn in Pome, a bull was despatched to the French nunzio, nominating the Irish priest coadjutor to the then decrepit bishop of Limerick. O’Dwyer made no difficulty about accepting the exalted dignity which the holy see conferred on him, and he was therefore duly consecrated by the bishop of Senlis, in the church of St. Lazare, Paris, on Sunday, the 7th of May, 1645. Having purchased a goodly supply of vestments, books, and other requirements for the diocese of Limerick, O’Dwyer set out for Ireland from one of the French ports ; but he had not been many days at sea when the ship in which he sailed was captured by a Turkish corsair, who carried him and his fellow passengers a prize to Smyrna. The bishop, however, when he saw that there was no chance of escaping the pirate, divested himself of all the decorations of his rank, and heaved overboard the valuable vestments and other sacred objects which he had collected at Paris, and which he knew would be desecrated had the Turks got possession of them. On reaching Smyrna he was sold as a slave, and condemned to work at a mill, with a mask on his face; and in this condition he might have lived and died, were it not for a contingency which seems almost miraculous. An Irish lady, wife of a French merchant, then living at Smyrna, happened to visit the mill; and discovering that the illustrious captive was a countryman of her own, and a bishop in reluctant disguise, she lost no time in reporting the fact to her husband, who at once paid a ransom for the prisoner, and sent him back to France, where he soon replaced the sacred furniture which he had flung into the sea, as we have already stated. O’Dwyer returned to Ireland early in the year 1646 ; and he was the first bishop who introduced the missionaries of St. Vincent de Paul to this country. As matter of course, he joined the supreme council of the confederates as spiritual peer; and in that capacity he secured for himself the esteem of the pope’s nunzio, who, in one of his earliest despatches, speaks of him in the highest praise. Another letter, dated Limerick, July 16, 1646, and addressed by the same personage to cardinal Panfilio, mentions the bishop of Limerick taking part in the grand function solemnized in his cathedral, in thanksgiving for THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. the memorable victory which Owen O’Neill won at Benbnrb, on the 5 th of the preceding month. “At four o clock, P-m., writes the nnnzio, “ the procession moved from the church ot St Francis, where the thirty-two stands of colours taken from the Scotch had been deposited. The garrison of Limerick led the van, and the captured colours were carried by the nobility of the city. Then followed the nunzio, the archbishop ot Cashel, the bishops of Limerick, of Clonfert, and Ardfert, and after them the supreme council, the mayor, and magistrates in their official robes. The people crowded the streets and windows acclaiming the grand festivity ; and as soon as the procession reached the cathedral, Te Deum was sung by t e Italians of the niinzio’s choir, and the latter pronounced the usual prayers, concluding the ceremony with solemn benediction. , Next morning Mass gratiarimi actione was sung by the dean of Fermo, in presence of the aforesaid bishops and magistrates. It might, perhaps, have been fortunate for O’Dwyer had he died at that hour of his country’s transient triumph; but, as we shall see, he was doomed to taste bitterness and sorrow at home and abroad, and to find his last resting-place far away from the old cathedral where his predecessors were entombed, and where he had recently assisted at one of the most splendid spectacles ever witnessed beneath the roof of that ancieiffi historic pile. Pious and zealous he was, no doubt, in the discharge of his hio'h office, and none could gainsay the holiness of his life ; but when the fortunes of the confederates waned, he unhappily proved himself in the politics of the period weak and vacillat- incf His conduct will not suffer us to doubt this ; for, instead of^'championing Riniiccini’s uncompromising policy, which re¬ fused to be satisfied with mere toleration^ of the ancient iffiigion of Ireland, he allowed himself to be duped by the artifices ot the lay members of the supreme council, most of whom were identified, either by blood or partizanship with the crafty enemy of their creed and race—Janies, Marquis ot Ormond. In fact, the bishop, with several others of his owii order, allied himself to that nobleman’s faction, signed the fatal truce with lord Inchiqiiin, and thus deserted the straightforward course which Einuccini and the old ^ Irish strove to maintain. “For the last eighteen months,” writes the nunzio, > “the bishop of Limerick, to my utter amazement and that ot every one else, has devoted himself to the party of lord Ormond ; and this, indeed, is a sorry return for the benefits bestowed on * See Appendix B. I 114 THE lEISH HIERAECHY IN him by the holy see; but he has had his reward ; for he is now the object of universal odium, and has separated himself from the sound politics of the rest of the clergy.’’ Six months had hardly elapsed since these words were penned, when E>inuc- cini, finding it impossible to harmonise the adverse factions which he strove to govern, or to bring about a solidarity of in¬ terests for the general good, deemed it necessary to abandon a country whose wretched factions were precijfitating it to irre¬ trievable ruin. For some, the last and direst weapon in the Church’s armoury had no terror; and, unhappily for O’Dwyer, he was one of the few bishops who, despite the nunzio’s censures, foolishly adhered to the party of lord Ormond. V/’ith the theo¬ logical controversies that agitated Ireland after the nunzio’s departure, touching the censures, in all of which O’Dwyer took a prominent part, we have nothing to do in this paper, our ob¬ ject being simply to give an outline of his eventful life, till its close in a foreign land. Pretermitting, therefore, much that could not interest the general reader, we may state to the bishop’s credit, that during those awful months when Ireton beleagured Limerick from without, and pestilence swept off the famished population within the walls, there was no braver man among the besieged than their spiritual chief. He exhorted the inhabitants to hold out to the last extremity, and lay down their lives rather than yield to the lieutenant of the man who could show no mercy either at Drogheda or Wexford. Fully conscious of the doom that awaited such gallant resist¬ ance, a multitude of the citizens called on the bishop, and be¬ sought him to give them permission to blow themselves up, rather than fall alive into the hands of their enemies; but he dissuaded them from such a suicidal project, telling them that it became them better as Christians to die with arms in their hands, than to rush, uncalled, into the tremendous presence of God. At last, when Limerick was forced to capitulate to Ireton, who was indebted for his success to the treason of a captain Fennell, one of Pinuccini’s most implacable enemies, O’Dwyer, finding that he was excepted from quarter, disguised himself in peasant’s garb, and having smeared his face with gunpowder, passed unnoticed through one of the city gates, and eventually contrived to make his way to Brussels, where he lived till 1654, eating the salty bread of exile, and, as we may suppose, regretting, with his latest sigh, the fatal error that helped to bring ruin on his unfortunate country. On the night of the 6th of April, 1654, his remains, followed by a few torchbearers, were conveyed from the convent in which THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 115 he breathed his last, to the church of St. James in the above- named city, and were there deposited in the subterranean chapel dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, without a single line to record his virtues or his failings. .A. career such as his, undei othei circumstances, would surely have been thought worthy an epitaph_that last of human vanities; but the nocturnaliui\QTdl, divested of all ghastly pomp, and the nameless grave, will be sufficiently accounted for by the nunzio s censures. Jn accordance with the plan we proposed to oui selves when commencing these notices of some of the most distinguished Irish prelates of the seventeenth century, we now return to the venerable cathedral of Limerick, where we left Kinuccini re¬ ceiving from bishop Aidliur all the honours prescribed^ by the ritual for so solemn an occasion as that when the pope’s accre¬ dited ambassador makes his first appearance in a town or city. A- few days had hardly passed since that menioiable event, when news reached the nunzio, that the most distinguished of the Irish archbishops, and one in whom, according to his instruc¬ tions, he was to repose most confidence, and whom he was to consult on all occasions of great moment, had been slain in an inglorious skirmish near Ballysadare, in the county Sligo. Sad intelligence, indeed, Avas this for the nunzio at the outset of his diplomatic career ; and we can easily imagine how the joy with Avhich his arrival was greeted in Limerick must have been dashed when he found himself called upon to celebrate the ob¬ sequies of Malachv O’Queely, archbishop of Tuam, in that very cathedral where, a few days previously, his choristers chanted Te Deum, in presence of a vast multitude, who never before listened to 'such ^thrilling harmony. All the festive adornments of the cathedral were now replaced with mournful emblems, the altars and columns draped in black, and the nunzio, assisted by the aged Arthur, sang IMass of Bequiem for the heroic soul of the metropolitan of Connaught, whom he was not destined to meet in this world. Having left Limerick a few days afterwards, Kinuccini caused the same honours to be paid .to the deceased archbishop in St. Canice s cathedral, Kilkenny, about the middle of November, 1645, Avhen all Ireland was plunged in grief for the loss of such an illustrious champion of her faith. Malachy O’Queely, son of Donatus, was a native of the county Clare, and lineally descended from the lords of Conmac- ne-mar, where they ruled as princes long before and aftei the Anglo-Norman invasion. A chieftain of this race maiched 116 THE lEISH HIERARCHY IN with Brien Bommlia to Clontarf, in 1014, and centuries after¬ wards the name was famous in bardic story— “ Over Conmacne-mara great Was O’Cadhla friend of banquets.” Malachy, when a mere youth, went to Paris, where he studied in the college of Navarre, and took the degree of doctor in divinity. On his return to Ireland, he was appointed vicar- apostolic of Killaloe, and ultimately, on October 11, 1631, was, by Thomas Walsh, archbishop of Cashel, consecrated successor to Florence Corny in the archiepiscopal see of Tuam, The prelates who assisted on this occasion were Bichard Arthur, of Limerick, and Boetius Egan, of Elphin ; and the ceremony took 2^1ace at Galway. A curious incident, which we may not omit to mention, occurred on the day named for O’Queely’s conse¬ cration. The archbishop elect had received from Borne a draft of the bull nominating him to the vacant see ; and on present¬ ing it to the officiating prelate, the latter, after demurring some time, finally refused to proceed with the ceremony, till the autograph instrument should be submitted to his scmtiny. It was a moment of great embarrassment for all the parties con¬ cerned ; and as they were about to retire from the church, a priest, who landed from a ship which had just then dropped anchor in the bay, rushed into their presence, and handed to Arthur the authentic bulls. In 1632, the year immediately folloAving his elevation, O’Queely presided in Galway, at a synod for removing abuses and enforcing the decrees of the council of Trent ; and in the interval between the last-named period and the rising of 1641, he devoted himself Avith singular zeal to the discharge of his high office, consoling and enlightening the flock committed to his charge, then sadly harassed by the tyrannical proceedings of lord-deputy Strafibrd. Nor should we omit to state that O’Queely’s appointment to Tuam was at first badly received by the province over which he Avas named chief pastor, some alleging that none but a native of Connaught ought to have been raised to the archiepiscopal see; but in progress of time his generosity and open-heartedness silenced the malcontents, and won for him the esteem and love of all classes. In 1641, when the people rose to shake oflf the intolerable oppression under AAffiich they had so long groaned, O’Queely took his place among them, not indeed as a military chief, but rather with a Anew to repress tumultuary assaults, and save the Protestant portion of the community from pillage and insult. For this laudable THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 117 object be raised a regiment, wbich was officered by the O’Flahertys and others of the Connaught gentry, whose zeal tor their religion and the false-hearted Charles I. was ciowne wit a temporary triumph, though sadly requited by the son anc successor of that unhappy monarch. In all the transactions o the confederates, O’Queely, then president of Connaught, was regarded as a high authority, and not only by them but by the court of Rome ; 'for, as we have already observed, the instruc¬ tions given to Riniiccini by Innocent X. marked out the aici- bishop as the fittest person for his guidance. “ Although each of the four archbishops,” says the document, ‘‘ is remarkable for zeal, nevertheless, he of Tuam is to be your confidant, anc among the bishops he of Clogher.” The last appeamnce of O’Queely in the general assembly at Kilkenny was in October, 1645, the month of the nunzio’s arrival in Ireland, and the same in which the ferocious Coote was appointed by the parliament president of Connaught, with a commission “ to extirpate the Irish people by fire and sword.” Sligo, at that time, had fallen into the hands of the Scotch Covenanters; and the supreme council of the confederates, wishing to possess a seaport whic enabled their enemies to land men and munitions of war, resolvecl to recover it if possible. As a spiritual peer, O’Queely voted supplies for the undertaking, and immediately set out with the forces destined for the expedition, which was commanded by lore Taaffe and sir James Dillon. On leaving Kilkenny, the arch¬ bishop’s mind was overclouded by sinister omens 3 and he not only removed all his baggage, but bade adieu to each ot his friends, telling them that he was destined to never see them again. On crossing the Shannon, he was met by a vast concourse of the people, who came to look their last on him : for there was then rife among them an old prophecy concerning the violent death of one of St. Jarlath’s successors, and it was popularly believed that the prediction was to be fulfilled in the person of O’Queely. Indeed, he himself seems to have given it credit 3 for, a few years before, while being punctured tor a dropsical affection, he told doctor Nicholson, his medical attend¬ ant, that the prophecy was to be fulfilled in him, and tha e ac not long to live. The nunzio, too, in his despatches, _ alludes to the prediction, remarking that the Irish were much given to the “ folly of prophesying.” On Sunday, 17th October, 1645, the Irish troops encamped in the vicinity of Ballysadare, anc so confident were Taaffe and Dillon of the safety of their position, that they accepted on that fatal day an invitation to dine with the archbishop, who, always proverbial for hospitality, had also 118 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN asked all the officers to his table. It was during this merry¬ making that sir Charles Coote, sir William Cole, and sir Francis Hamilton had intelligence of the loose discipline observable in the confederate camp • and taking advantage of the information, they swooped down unexpectedly with a large force, and before the Irish could arm themselves, put them to flight, and cut them up fearfully. In this extremity Dillon told the archbishop to save himself as best he could; but being ohese and of great statiire, he lacked the necessary speed. His faithful secretary, father Thady O’Connell, of the order of Hermits of St. Augus¬ tine, and another priest, lost their lives endeavouring to protect him from the Scotch, who, ignorant of the prize they had within their grasp, hewed him to pieces with their claymores after wounding him with a pistol shot in the loins. The list of prisoners made in this sad raid shows that thp archbishop was accompanied by some of the foremost men in Connaught ; for it mentions, among others, Murragh-na-do O’Flahertie, William O’Shaughnessy, and captain Garrett Dillon, son to sir -Lucas Dillon, who stated that his father was shot in the thigh. Intel¬ ligence of this unfortunate event, which the Puritans styled “ Good Hews from Ireland,” was immediately forwarded to both houses of parliament, and that very quaint bulletin tells us that the Irish forces amounted to 1,000 foot and 300 horse. In the pursuit,” says the writer, ^Gheir commander and president of that province was slain—the titular archbishop of Til am, who was a principal agent in these wars. Divers papers were found in his carriage. He had for his own par¬ ticular use an order from the council at Kilkenny for levying the arrears of his bishopric, and the pope’s bull and letter from Pome. The pope would not at first engage himself for the send¬ ing of a nunzio for Ireland, until the Irish agents had fully per¬ suaded him that the re-establishment of the Catholic religion was a thing feasible in this kingdom ; whereupon he undertook the solicitation of their cause with Florence, Yenice, and other estates, and to delegate his nunzio to attend to the affairs of this kingdom.” In the archbishop’s baggage was found the private treaty which Charles I. empowered lord Glamorgan to negotiate with the confederates; and the discovery of this important document, we need hardly say, helped to exasperate the Puritans against the unfoidunate king. As soon as the Scotch discovered the high rank of the indi¬ vidual whose mutilated corpse was left on the road-side, they demanded a sum of thirty pounds before surrendering it; and when, the money was paid by Walter Lynch, he caused the THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 119 remains to be dressed in pontifical robes and conveyed to Tuam, where Mass of Kequieni was duly celebrated in presence of a vast crowd, who bitterly lamented their brave and well-loved archbishop. Unfortunately, there is now no record of the place of O’Queely’s interment; but we have it, on the authority of one who was personally acquainted with him, that some years after his decease, Brigid, lady Athenry, wife of Francis, 19th lord of that title, and daughter of sir Lucas Dillon, of lough Glynn, in the county of Boscommon, caused all that remained of the archbishop to be reinterred in some place known to none but herself and the pious few Avho were employed to perform that charitable work. There is little to be said of O’Queely’s literary tastes or labours; but we may state that they were appreciated by John Colgan, who was indebted to him for the “ Description of the Three Islands of Arran and their Churches,” which the learned Franciscan published in his “ Acta Sanc¬ torum Hib.,” p. 714. This valuable communication, and a description of the churches and other sacred edifices in the diocese of Tuam, must have been compiled by the archbishop a short time previous to his death. Lamented by every lover of his country, none could have been more keenly sensible of his loss than the nunzio, who, in his despatches to cardinal Panfilio, speaks of him in most pathetic terms ; asserting that he had lost his life in actual defence of the faith, and that the supreme council had thus sustained a terrible calamity, as no one could be found competent to replace such a prelate either in the civil or the military department. “ Verily,” concludes the nunzio, “he has closed his career gloriously, and won for himself in heaven a reward commensurate with his labours.” In concluding this brief memoir, we have only to add that Edmond O’Meara, M.D., who venerated the archbishop’s noble character, and would have erected a monument to him had he known where his remains lay, has left us the subjoined epitaph, hoping, perhaps, that it might one day be inscribed on his friend’s tomb, should some fortunate accident ever clear away the mystery that surrounds the forgotten grave :—* PR^SULIS . HIC. MULTO. LANIATUM . VULNERE . CORPUS . CANITIESQUE . SACRO . SANGUINE . SPARSA . JACET . PRO . REGE . NON . RENUIT . VITAM . PROFUNDERE . PASTOR . QUAM . BENE . PASTOREM . MORS . ISTA . DECET . BONUM . PURPUREI . FULGETE . PATRES . IN . MURICE . SANGUIS . PULCHRIUS .' HIC . VESTRI . MURICIS . IGNE . RUBET . * See Appendix 0. 120 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN CHAPTER II. On the 21st November, 1645, Riniiccini, after a few days’ repose in the residence which the confederates appointed for him at Kilkenny, proceeded on foot to pay a formal visit to lord Mountgarrett,* then president of the council, who, to do the pope’s minister greater honour, had arranged that the reception should take place in the grand gallery of the ancient castle of the Ormonds. On this occasion he was accompanied by general Preston, lord Muskerry, and other distinguished personages, who, doubtless, were anxious to witness the interview, and learn what hopes they might entertain of succour from abroad, for prosecuting the war against the king’s enemies. At foot of the grand staircase he was met by Thomas Walsh, archbishop of Cashel, Thomas Fleming, archbishop of Dublin, and Heber MacMahon, bishop of Clogher; who, after mutual congratula¬ tions, ascended the'stairs, and were then ushered, by sir Richard Belling, into the presence of the lord president. The latter was seated at the head of the gallery; but, when the nunzio appeared, he stood up, without, however, advancing a single step; and as soon as tlie ceremony of presentation was over, he motioned the pope’s high minister to a chair, covered with gold and crimson damask, at his right, but so placed that neither of them could be said to be the central figure. Rinuccini then handed his credentials to the president, who caused the document to be read aloud; and when this was concluded, the former addressed all present in Latin, stating that the grand object of his mission was to maintain the rights of the Catholics, to pro¬ mote union of parties, and to assist the king in his struggle with the parliament. At the conclusion of his speech, he gave them all the apostolic blessing; and after a few words in reply, spoken by MacMahon, bishop of Clogher, he took leave of the president and retired, the bishops accompanying him as far as the grand entrance of the castle, and Preston, Muskerry, and others to the saloon of his own domicile, which was now distinguished by the insignia of his nunciature— a shield surmounted by the papal tiara and keys, with a dove holding in its beak an olive-branch. The reception, indeed, was cold and rigidly formal; and Rinuccini must have remarked that Mountgarrett, although a Catholic, would have been much better j)leased had he come from the pope in any other capacity than that of nunzio. Be that as it might, Rinuccini was agreeably impressed by the magni- * See Appendix D. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 121 licence of the gallery in which the introduction took place; and, although familiar with grander structures in his own countiy, where architecture, sculpture, and painting, under the fostei mg patronage of the Roman pontiffs, to whom^ we are indebted toi the revival, advancement, and preservation of art in all its departments, had reached their apogee, he did not allow this little incident to pass unobserved, when writing an account ot his first interview with lord Moiintgarrett.^ Each of the prelates by whom he was attended on this occasion two of whom he had never met till then—was destined to take a prominent part in the transactions which followed in such rapid succession after his arrival; but as the space allowed us in these essays is limited, we have deemed it best to treat their biogra]3hies con¬ secutively and briefly, and, if possible, to give our readers vivic portraits of those eminent ecclesiastics who so signally impressed the age in which they lived. We will therefore commence with the archbishop of Cashel, reserving our notices of the others for a future page. -ox Thomas Walsh, son of Robert Walsh and Anastasia htrong, was born on the 3rd of February, 1588, in Waterford, where his paternal ancestors were for many centuries opulent mer¬ chants. Indeed, it may be said of Waterford that no other city in Ireland produced so many learned ecclesiastics—the Wadding family alone numbering four of that calling, and the most dis¬ tinguished, perhaps, of their time ; nor will it be out of place to mention here, that the celebrated Luke Wadding and Thomas Walsh were born in the same year. A fact, however, worthier of beinc^ recorded, is that Thomas came into this world while his father was prisoner for refusing to take the oath of supremacy, which the Protestant authorities were then endeavouring to force on the denizens of that old city so historically associated with the Ostmen and the Anglo-Norman invaders. Waterford, we may also observe, had been at all times singulaily istin o-iiished for its fidelity to the ancient religion ; for, notwith¬ standing every effort to pervert its people, the doctrines of the English apostasy of the sixteenth century made very few prose¬ lytes among them—most of those who did fall away being ofiicials of the government and strangers. Just three years before the birth of Thomas Walsh, we find a grand proof of this in the utter failure of an attempt made by John Long, the schismatical primate, to propagate the new religion there by means of schools, which, it would appear, were then immediately under that dig¬ nitary’s superintendence. Indeed, the report forwarded by one of his teachers, or mayhap inspectors, throws much light 122 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN on this subject, and shows clearly that, of all places in Ireland, Waterford was the last he should have thought of selecting as a field for proselytism. The document to which we allude is so extremely interesting, and illustrative of the age in which it was written, that we cannot help submitting it to our readers, pre¬ mising at the same time that it reads very like letters of the same tenor with which disapj)ointed zealots, fanatics, and hypocrites have made our own times familiar. ‘‘ To THE Right Honble. the Lord Primate of Ireland, AT HIS HOUSE IN TrADAGH, GIVE THESE. “ I wrote unto your honour of late, desiring to have received an answer to satisfy me for two especial causes, which moved me to write; the one, for that I understood that your honour was offended with me ; the other was to desire your honour’s assistance in this place, where it j)leased your honour to place me, against a number of professed enemies of God and good men, although outwardly a few of them make some hypocritical show, yet their lives, for the most part, shew the contrary; so that I have not seen nor heard of the like contempt of the word of God, and manifest resistance of her majesty’s pro¬ ceedings—no, not in the whole island. It is not for any man that feareth God to dwell among them; for, although they can¬ not maidyr his body, yet they will trouble his mind. Their abuses are so many, that I would be loath to trouble your honour with the reading of so endless a matter. But some of them are so detestable and execrable, that I cannot overpass them : (as these) first, there is not one couple among twenty married, according to her majesty’s injunctions, but handfasted only, or else married at home with a Mass ; then they never christin their children but in their house, either with a Mass priest, or for want of him (which commonly the wealthiest of them want not) the women themselves christin. Their dead they bury not, if they choose, but tumble them into the graves like swine, without any word of service, or any minister—the proof whereof I myself have seen very often, even before th-e school door, to my great grief ; and as for themselves altogether, they either abuse the word, or absent themselves from the church ; or when they come there, they walk round about like mill horses, chopping and changing, and making merchandise, and in such order, that they which are in the choir, and willing to hear, for their babbling cannot hear a word; and these be not small fools, but even the chief of the city. These and such THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUKY. 123 other monstrous vices being suffered, it is not for any good man to stay among them ; for they put such giea con c ence in their bribery, that they hope by it only to maintain then knavery. The ministers cry out that they are abused,^ deceived despised, and almost discomfited ; and for this especially, that they being constrained to send up a true certificate of such a,^ frequented not the church, nor received the communion, then certificate was presently showed to their enemies, and such comfortable and friendly speeches given unto them, that they returned home again with open jaws and foaming moii , reviled the ministers with such opprobrious terms, as men ot their profession use to do, that they, iDOor s ep ei s, oi those brutish and savage lions, are almost afeard to come nea the sheepfold. It was little credit for him who ^ them; for even they themselves know what his chitt is, sil^c , either to be m-apt in a mantle, or cloked with a caddow, o made dmnk with aqua vital. I besee^ your money for that which was given them freely, man ihat taketh the function upon him to make a gam it, the case is common to me with all other Christians, w causeth me the rather to presume upon your honours But I will leave off that, and come to my own private case. This, therefore, is to let you to understand, that since my inv hither I had not above thirty scholars, ^uch was no ..ma grief unto me, especially being sent hither by you; the cause why they received me was rather for fear, than for anyly they had to have their children instructed in the fear G^, and knowledge of good letters, which I soon perceived by them for within one month most of them took from me, and sent them to other tutors in were professed papists, which was so great a grief ' that I could not tai-ry among them ; for I cann p sibly make myself subject to them that are no subjects tlm selves. The reason they allege why they too^ «\®“ because, as they say, for that they did not profit, yy^®; ““ they indeed, in that they looked for ; for I ^ coiL to the service, which they could not abide, wheieat y muttered privately among themselvesc There '''yy^^ among them that was able to read fables, anc y 1 mured because I did not use them to make ^®“®®’ orations, and verses; for which cause and foi ^ ^ them from me, and sent them to papists. I was williUa o * Irisk for an over garment. 124 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN into their own hands, to bestow it where they will; so they have bestowed it upon a youth that is of their own damnable profession ; one that was apprentice in the town, and since that a serving man in Dublin. And whereas your honour persuaded me that I should find them such loving and courteous people, I have found them clean contrary. Even the mayor himself, of whom you made so great account, hath dealt but strangely with me ; I never ate nor drank in his house but once, and then not of his own bidding. As for the sherifis, they were the greatest enemies I had, and went about to disgrace me most. I had thought I should have come to Dublin before my depar¬ ture for that they denied me part of my wages ; because mid¬ summer quarter is shorter than the rest, they would have paid it me by the week, not by the quarter. They desire to dis¬ pleasure me, and procure their children that were my scholars to revile me, as they have done most devilishly, in reporting that I went and hanged myself, and called me rogue, rascal, villain, and such like speeches, which never proceeded from them, but from their parents. They called a son of Peter Strange’s where I lie, turncoat, traitor, and Protestant, because he useth to go to the English service. These speeches, and far worse, aye, in their children; but if your honour did but dwell among their parents, to see their villany in massing at home, and murmuring at God’s word in the church, I know you could not abide it. They that took their children from me, and let them all this while go loitering up and the streets, have now sent them to this fellow again. For these foresaid causes, I I thought good to give over the place, and betake myself to my country, where I hope to live with a quite conscience, for here I could have no comfort, because there is not one professor of the gospel to be found among them—no, not one. Thus giving your honour to understand what the cause of my departure was, I commit you, with your good bedfellow, to God, beseech¬ ing you to shew forth yourself and your authority to the glory of God, and your own commendations, and be not like unto them which hunt after bribes, chopping and changing the word of God, which is the heavenly manna, for ornaments and sweet¬ meats, which please the body, and destroy the soul. “ Fare ye well. The xiith of July, ano. 1585, Waterford. “ Your honour’s to command, “John Shearman.” It is to be regretted that the writer of this educational re¬ port did not give us the name of the Catholic teacher who robbed THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 125 him of his scholars, and who, probably may haje mitiated young Walsh into the first rudiments, many years after bheamian m sheer disgust took his departure from Waterford, as thoug 11 had been one of the doomed cities of the plain. Certain it is, however, that Kobert Walsh, and his wife Anastasia, found a better school for their child beyond t^ seas ; and they accord¬ ingly sent him to his maternal uncle, Thomas Strong, bishop of oSiory, then an exile for religion, and coadjutor to the arch¬ bishop of Gompostella. This was in 1600 when the boy had reached his twelfth year. Havmg finished his prepaiatoiy studies, under the superintendence of masters provided foi him by his uncle, young Walsh was soon afterwards sent to the iLh seminary at Lisbon ; and after completing his theological course there, he proceeded to the Irish college of Salamanca, where he took the degree of doctor in lUvimty, and was ordained priest. He then made a tour of the entire continent, visiting Lch of its principal cities, and was created a knight of St. John of Malta. At length having come back to Ireland in 1624, he devoted himself to missionaiy duties toi some time ; and then set out for Spain, whence he was sum¬ moned to Rome, by order of pope Urban Till., ^ him to be consecrated archbishop of Cashel, on th ^ J, 1626. Shortly after the last-named period, he again returned to Ireland, and applied himself in his^ removal of abuses, which, owing to the distracted state of the times, were then prevalent in his diocese. ^ dible difficulties beset him at every step; for the spy an former, so munificently patronized by Adam Loftus and sii Richard Boyle, who then heW the reni^s of constantly on his track, whether he confirmed in the depths o the foreste with which Ireland was then extensively coveied, or administered the other sacraments, as was then time and within barricaded doors in the houses of Catlmlics^ in towns and hamlets. Withal, despite such terrible I'estraints he held many synods, not indeed in churci or ciape, woods (in sylvis); and it was while presiding at one of_ these early in 1633, during the deputyship of Thomas viscoii Wentworth, that he was an-ested and brought pnsoner to Dublin On the journey to the metropolis he was accompaniet by Archibald Hamilton, son of the then heretic archbishop o Cashel, with whom he discussed various points of doctiine, s learnedly and so much to the young man s satisfaction, tha * See Appendix E. 126 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN’ they ever afterwards thought more kindly and better of each other. After a short imprisonment in the castle, the arch¬ bishop was summoned to appear before the deputy, who could elicit nothing from him except that he was allowed a small stipend by the king of Spain, to enable him to live; and as soon as he had proved to Strafford’s satisfaction that he main¬ tained no traitorous correspondence with that monarch, he was set at large, and allowed to return to his diocese. Thenceforth, that is to say, from 1633 to 1639, he was suffered to exercise his high functions with less constraint. After the rising of 1641, he, like another prelate of the period, hesitated sometime before joining the confederates; but at last when the lawfulness of a resort to arms for God, king, and country, was proclaimed and sanctioned by Hugh O’Reilly, archbishop of Armagh, and other bishops, he was duly elected a spiritual peer of the supreme council. The revolution, thus suddenly effected, placed the Irish Catholics in possession of many of their ancient churches and cathedrals ; and the bishops lost no time in puri¬ fying the sacred edifices, and appropriating them to the uses for which Irish piety had erected them in the ages of faith. Rollowing the example of the other prelates, Walsh reconciled the venerable cathedral of Cashel, about the close of 1641; and on this memorable occasion he was attended by all the clergy and gentry of Munster, who shed tears of joy on seeing that glorious monument of their religion restored to the Catholics. The grand old temple, indeed, had been sadly dilapidated, more than half a century before, by the apostate Miler Magrath ; but now that it was once again in the possession of its rightful bishop, the people raised a large sum of money, to enable him to restore the edifice, as far as might be, to its pristine splen¬ dour. This, indeed, was a labour of love for Walsh ; for, after having re-erected the altars, and provided all necessary require¬ ments for the ancient ritual, he spared no pains in preserving and embellishing the sacred edifice, where for the greater part of the following seven years, he duly performed the functions of his high offii.ce. Resuming our notices of Walsh’s position among the confede¬ rated Catholics, we have sufficient evidence to show that he was regarded as one of the most influential members of that body, from the moment he took the oath of association till its final dissolution. Thus, so early as 1644, we find him subscri¬ bing letters of recommendation, given by the supreme council to father Hugh de Burgh, when they appointed the latter their agent in the court of Philip lY. of Spain, where, doubtless, the THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 127 name of the archbishop of Cashel was already knovm. In the same year he subscribed the memorial, _ praying the pope to make Luke Wadding a cardinal; and in that which imme¬ diately followed, he attested the geniiineness of the copy ot Glamorgan’s treaty, which was found in the baggage of the archbishop of Tuam, after that prelate had been slam. His devotedness to Rinuccini cannot be questioned; for, on his arrival, he hastened to Limerick to congratulate him; and whenever the former came to Cashel, he was received m e archiepiscopal palace with cordial Avelcome and unbounded hos- ■pitality In fact, Walsh was the nunzio’s constant companion, on all occasions when the latter visited Munster ; following in his train, as we have already seen, when Limerick feted the victory of Benburb; and assisting him with his counsels when he went in person to press the siege of Bunratty. Such close intimacy could not but ripen into warm and lasting friend¬ ship ; and, we may therefore conclude that the nunzio s appre- dation of Walsh’s character was as high as it was just In¬ stead, however, of adopting his views on all occasions, Walsh, on more than one instance, had the manliness to dissent from them nor could he be induced to embrace the non-expediency principles of the over sanguine Italian, till the Jatter, miscalcu¬ lating his resources, assured him of aids from .abroad, which eventuallv never came, or came so sparingly that they proved worse than useless. Thus, for example, in the congregation of the clero-y of Waterford, in 1646, when articles of peace with lord Ormond were discussed, the archbishop of Cashel would have subscribed them, doubtless as an instalment of larger con¬ cessions, despite the opposition of the nunzio, had not the latter convinced him that subsidies from Rome and elsewhere would soon come for the equipment of an army, which, with the assis¬ tance of O’Neill’s and Preston’s troops, would clear Ireland y the king’s enemies, and enable his majesty to restore all the churches to his Irish Catholic subjects and cancel all penal statutes against them and their faith. This surely is proof that Walsh was an independent-minded man, whose judgment could not be warped by cringing subservience to superior authority. In the same sjiirit, doubtless, and not as one blindly following the policy of Binuccini, he joined the latter in rejecting the truce with lord Inchiquin, in 1648, when Ormond’s creatures in the supreme council basely allied themselves to the man who had changed sides three times, and slaughtered the Muns¬ ter Catholics remorselessly. Some bishops, it is true, and the Jesuits especially, were, on this occasion, sternly opposed to the 128 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN iiunzio, \Ylien lie resolved to pronounce sentence of excoinranni- cation against the abettors of the truce; but Walsh, far from coalescing with the dissentient prelates, or maintaining the speculations of the Jesuits regarding the validity of the cen¬ sures, stood by Hinuccini and the national party, who, instead of compromising themselves, or violating the oath of association, resolved to protract the war till they had ob¬ tained irrefragable securities for a free parliament, and uncon¬ ditional freedom for their religion. It must be acknowledged, however, that Walsh formed one of the deputation that waited on lord Ormond when he resumed the viceroyalty ; and that he then did sign the articles of peace with that nobleman, in the fullest assurance that he was thus securing all the concessions which Kinuccini had demanded. The latter, who was then preparing to quit Ireland, was apprised of this act, and took . care to record it thus :—The Roman agents, having returned to Ireland, brought with them a brief, which the pope ad¬ dressed to the Irish prelates; and, without mentioning the matter to me, they gave out that, as penal briefs have monitory 2 ) 0 wer, they, the bishops, were bound to pay more respect to such documents than to the nunzio. By means of this most crafty and diabolical device, they succeeded in bringing to Kilkenny three of the most scrupulous of them, namely, the archbishop of Cashel, and the bishops of Waterford and Emly. He of Emly, however, on being made aware of the fraud that was about to be practised, contrived to escape, as he lodged in the suburbs; but as for the other two, who slept in the city, they were detained, and had to subscribe, in order to complete the required number of signatures.” In extenuation of this most imprudent act, it may be alleged that Walsh .fancied he was thus realizing the nunzio’s requirements—full security for the free exercise of religion, retention of the churches and their re¬ venues—all of which were duly guaranteed by lord Ormond; but be that as it may, he discovered, when too late, that the double-dealing viceroy set no value on treaties or stipulations with the Irish Catholics. Indeed, so grievously pained was Walsh by this momentary defection, that he soon afterwards asked and obtained absolution from the censures. At length when the confederation was virtually broken up by Ormond’s astuteness, and when the last representatives of that body denounced the viceroy’s 'insincerity in the manifesto which they issued from the Franciscan convent of James¬ town ; Walsh, although absent from the meeting, did concur in the views and sentiments of the patriotic prelates. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 129 The meeting took place on the 6th of August, 1650 ; but on the 23rcl of the same month, Walsh, with other five bishops then in Galway, subscribed the aforesaid instrument, in which Ormond was proclaimed an implacable enemy to the Catholics. Having thus glanced at the principal incidents in what may be termed Walsh’s religio-political life, we will now direct our regards to some of its more interesting phases connected with his episcopal functions. One of the archbishop’s cherished projects was to repair the various churches of his diocese, which, during the two preceding reigns, had been sadly dilapidated, and turned to profane uses by creedless grantees. For this end he spared neither money nor labour; for, indeed, like Kinuccini, he desired nothing so much as to see the ritual of the Church carried out in all its splendour. We have already mentioned that he reconciled the cathedral of Cashel,* and it is worth knowing that he performed the same ceremony over again on the ISth July, 1648, after Inchiquin’s troops had sacrilegiously pillaged and defiled that most noble monument of Irish piety and aid. In less than two years afterwards, however, the archbishop had to deplore the fatal final fall of the grand old temple on the Hock into the hands of anti-Catholics, for then, “ The creedless, heartless, murderous rohher came ; And never since that time Found its torn altars burned the sacred flame, Or rose the chant sublime I” Having thus exerted himself to the utmost in prosecuting this laudable design, Walsh’s next care was to provide for the edu¬ cation of his flock; and so intent was he on this, that he gave the Jesuits a considerable sum, part of which was contributed by Brigid, countess of Kildare, in order that they might found a large seminary in the city of Cashel, f This money, however, was subsequently lent to the nunzio, to enable him to recruit Owen O’Neill’s army, after the rejection of the peace with lord Ormond by the congregation of the clergy in Waterford j but, although it was refunded afterwards, the unhappy state of Ireland prevented the Jesuits from carrying out the archbishop’s noble intentions. In short, no other prelate could have laboured more zealously for the well-being of the people committed to his pastoral care; for, indeed, the grand aim of his whole life was to provide them with everything that could conduce to their eternal and temporal prosperity. * See Appendix F. t See Appendix G. 130 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN That this was the ruling principle of his life there can be no doubt; for we are told by one who was personally acquainted with him, that his last public act was to convene a synod of the clergy in Limerick, about the close of 1649, when Crom- welFs success in Drogheda and Wexford thunderstruck all Ireland, in order to impress upon them that they should stand by the people to the last extremity, sharing all their vicissitudes, and encouraging them, by word and example, to remain true to their faith. For some time previous to the siege of Limerick ■ Walsh had to conceal himself in the woods; but, on the approach of Ireton he fixed his abode in the city, where he remained till it surrendered. By what means he contrived to efiect his escape thence we know not, but it is certain, that, after leaving Limerick, he lay concealed for some time in the village of Bally griffin, where he was arrested on the 4th January, 1652. He was then removed, under escort, to the prison of Clonmel. The hardships he had to endure in the last-named place were truly appalling; for, as we can readily imagine, the merciless Puritans had no commiseration for the sufferings and privations of a Catholic archbishop. In the same jail there was then a large number of priests, awaiting deportation to the West Indian colonies ; and as they were not allowed to officiate, they con¬ trived to have the holy Eucharist brought clandestinely into the prison, where they and Walsh had it dispensed to them as often as they could elude the vigilance of their keepers. Withal, there was some deference shown to him by the Cromwellian authorities, for they offered to set him at large on condition that he pledged his word to never resume his episcopal functions. Every instinct of his heart was now revolted ; and scorning to act the hireling and flee, while the wolf with bloody fangs was raven¬ ing the fold, he at once without a moment’s hesitation rejected the overture. Thinking that they might, perhaps, succeed in forcing him to subscribe their conditions by removing him to another jail, the authorities sent hun to the prison of Waterford, about the middle of July, 1652, where he was kept in close confinement till October of the year following. But all their devices failing to shake his resolution, he was at last suflfered to take his departure for Spain. Broken in health and spirits, the illustrious prelate reached Corunna about the middle of Novem¬ ber, 1653, and, after a few days’ repose, he set out for Compos- tella, where the superior of the Irish seminary had made prepa¬ rations for his reception. Surrounded by all the comforts which compassionating hearts could provide, he now found a temporary solace in the society of his compatriots, and the hospitable ( THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 131 attentions of the archbishop of Compostella. But the hand of sickness pressed heavily npon him, and he knew that his disso¬ lution was rapidly approaching. During the entire six months after his arrival in the venerable city of St. James, he lay stretched on a bed of pain, worn down by old age and the hard trials through which he had passed, and, worst of all, by the terrible consciousness that his country and her religion were now in the power of the fanatical Puritans. How wonderful were God’s designs in relation to this great archbishop ! In child¬ hood, he came to Compostella to find book and board in the house which charity had assigned to his uncle, an aged prelate, expatriated for his steadfastness to the faith j and now, at the close of a long career, he came again to the same place, a tottering old man, seeking alms and a grave in the far-famed cathedral where his earliest and best preceptor lay mouldering. Indeed, Walsh’s life, spanning as it did more than half a century, and taking in some of the most memorable facts recorded in the chequered pages of his country’s history, may be justly re¬ garded as one of the most varied and eventful of the times in which he lived, when every Irishman, in his high position, might be said to have had an individuality, singularly decided and re¬ markable. Father St. Leger, a Jesuit, to whom he was particularly attached, remained at Ms bedside throughout his last illness, tending him with filial affection, carefully noting down all the incidents of the sick chamber, and ministering all aids, spiritual and temporal, till the illustrious exile resigned his soul to God, on the 4th of May, 1654. The faithful Jesuit, true to his memory even after he had passed away, has left us an admmable memoir of the archbishop, from which we take the following account of the honours that were bestowed on his mortal re¬ mains :— “ He was translated, as we may piously believe, from earth to heaven, and. buried in a distinguished place in the church, dedicated to the glorious apostle of Spain. His obsequies were performed with the greatest splendour and piety, the archbishop of Compostella and the chapter of his cathedral defraying all expenses. The canons and all the religious orders of the city attended the funeral, and so did all the secular clergy and people of Compostella. In fact, such was the high estimation in which the deceased archbishop’s memory was held, that the populace vied with each other in their efforts to get a sight of his corpse, or touch it with their fingers. You might see crowds kissing his hands and feet, nay, laying their rosaries and 132 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN liandkercliiefs on his remains. Each and every of them gave expression to their feelings thus—‘ Thrice happy city and church, wherein the relics of so great a bishop, exile, and con¬ fessor, lie interred ” We know not whether there is any in¬ scription to mark the place where he sleeps, in that old temple of St. James, the goal of so many a pilgrimage in the ages of faith ; but, at all events, the good St. Leger, hoping that the tomb of such a great archbishop would not be suffered to remain noteless, has given us in the following epitaph a veritable epitome of a grand and chequered career, befitting a great high- priest who in his day was acceptable to the Lord, and was found just. EXILIUM . LATEBRAS . INCOMMODA . DAMNA . PERICLA . VINCLAQUE . PRO . VERA . RELIGIONE . TULI . ILLA . TULISSE . MEI . SUNT . ORNAMENTA . SEPULCHRI . NOBILIOR . TITULIS . OMNIBUS . ILLE . MIHI . EST . CGETERA . NIL . FACIUNT . SUNT . NOMINA . VANA . LEGATUR . IN . TITULI . MARMORE . MULTA . TULI . EXILIUM . TERRA . EST . CGELUM . MIHI . PATRIA . CCELUM . MORTE . PETO . EXILII . ET . TERMINUS . ILLE . MEI . CHAPTER III. Among the more important personages presented to the nunzio immediately after his arrival in Kilkenny, was the confederate lord chancellor, who held his court in that city, and there adju¬ dicated on all causes, civil and criminal, independently of the supreme council. The individual who then held that high office was John, bishop of Clonfert, and subsequently archbishop of Tuam, who, as we shall see, was destined to occupy a dis¬ tinguished place in the history of his country during some of its most eventful political and religious phases. John de Burgh,* whose father descended from a junior branch of the noble house of that name, was born near Clontuskert, in 1590, and, with his younger brother Hugh, received the rudi¬ ments of his education from a distinguished teacher named O’Mullally, who resided under the paternal roof till his pupils had acquired considerable knowledge of Greek and Latin. The two brothers, it would appear, had determined, while yet mere striplings, to embrace the ecclesiastical profession, and they * Sec Appendix L. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 133 accordingly set out for the continent some time in 1614, Hugh jiroceeding to Louvain, where he took the Franciscan habit in St. Anthony’s, and John to Lisbon, where he was entered of the Irish secular college. Singularly remarkable for his talents and application, he made rapid proficiency in his studies; and in the course of six or seven years attained the highest academi¬ cal distinction ; so much so, that he was elected by his superiors to go to the great school of Evora, and there, according to usage prevalent at the time, publish a challenge inviting the learned men of the latter place to dispute with him a thesis comprising the whole body of theology, civil and canon law. At the close of three days’ trial, the Irish disputant was crowned with honours, and then returned to Lisbon, bringing with him mag¬ niloquent attestations of his extensive learning, duly sealed and subscribed by the professors of Evora. Having completed his studies, he was ordained priest when he attained his twenty- fourth year, and then set out for Salamanca, where he disputed another thesis so clerkly, and so much to the admiration of the erudite of that famous university, that they one and all pro¬ nounced him hahilis ad docendum, and conferred upon him the degree of doctor in divinity. Returning to Ireland about 1624, the young priest found that his pedagogue had abjured the faith and turned Protestant, why or wherefore he knew not : but their relations to each other being now reversed, O’Mullally submitted to instruction, and owned himself vanquished by his former pupil, who had the satisfaction of rescuing the old man from heresy, and anointing his eyes before they closed in death. After labouring two years as a simple missionary in his native diocese, Boetius Egan, bishop of Elphin, wrote to Rome, re¬ commending De Burgh as a fit and proper person for the apos¬ tolic vicariate of Clonfert, then about to be vacated by Thomas Egan, a Dominican ; and in the year 1627 the holy See replied to the bishop, empowering him to confer that dignity on his friend. In this new function De Burgh toiled assiduously for the people committed to his charge, and as far as in him lay supplied to some extent the want of a bishop, for the see of Clonfert had not been provided with one since the death of its late chief pastor. O’Farrell, who died within the Spanish lines during the siege of Kinsale. De Burgh’s promotion to the apostolic-vicariate took place during the deputyship of lord Falkland, who, being constantly haunted by the apprehension of “ foreign invasion,” allowed the Catholics hardly any rest. Indeed, his hired spies and informers were ever on the track of bishops and priests; and the mercenary sheriffs of the 134 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN counties, whom he appointed, were ever willing to persecute the professors of the old faith, in order to aggrandize their own fortunes, and advance their preferment. De Burgh was well aware of this; and notwithstanding dark hints thrown out by the deputy, questioning his loyalty, he was wise and fortunate enough to keep clear of the many toils that were spread for him. On the accession of lord Strafford, however, his anxiety for the proprietors of the soil involved him in great difficulties, for he made himself peculiarly objectionable to the rapacious viceroy, by opposing, as far as he could, the projected conhsca- cation of Connaught to the crown. Again, when the parlia¬ ment of 1634 was summoned, he exerted all his influence with the Catholic members, urging them to resist the gigantic scheme of spoliation which was then contemplated, under the pretext of inquiring into defective titles; and so enraged was Strafford on hearing this, that he lost no time in issuing ivarrants for De Burgh’s arrest. The vicar-apostolic, however, with many of his clergy and people, found safe shelter in the woods, where he lay concealed till Strafford’s recall. His zeal and energy in those distracted times raised him more and more in the estimation of the bishop of Elphin, his earliest patron; and when the latter applied to Home to appoint a bishop to the vacant see of Clonfeid, he declared in his letters that he knew none so worthy of that office as John de Burgh. Home ap¬ proved, and despatched the bulls of consecration, on the 16th of October, 1641. About half a mile north of the Slieve Aughty hills, on the confines of the county Clare, stood the monastery of Kinelehan, founded by the De Burghs for Franciscans, soon after the order came to Ireland. It was a lonely and secluded spot; and, indeed, none could have been found better suited for quiet and retirement from the busy world. The lords of Clanricarde had a special affection for this little monastery, which they endowed sufficiently with some fair fields and goodly orchards ; and when it lapsed to the crown in queen Elizabeth’s time, earl Bichard, surnamed of Kinsale, purchased it from the grantee, and re¬ stored it to the friars. The mother of this Bichard, Margaret Eitzallen, of the house of Arundel, was, like her son, kind and beneficent to the recluses; and, owing to her devotion and pro¬ tection, the buildings were kept in repair', and their inmates screened from scathe, for many a year after her decease. Church and cloister were all perfect on the 19th of May, 1642 ; and a large assemblage, among whom was IJlick, fifth earl of Clanricarde, was then gathered within the sacred precincts, to THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 135 ■witness the consecration of John, bishop of Clonfert. Malachy O’Qiieely, archbishop of Tuain, assisted by Egan, bishop of Elphin, and O’Molloney, of Killaloe, performed the solemn ceremony ; and when that evening’s sun went down, the neigh¬ bouring hills were all ablaze with fires, lit by the peasantry in honour of the grand event. The see so long vacant had found a pastor, and the mitre of Clonfert rested on the head of one in whose veins ran the blood of the ancient cono^uerois and lords of Connaught. In obedience to the summons of the Irish xnimate, presiding at the general assembly of bishops and priests at Eilkenny, in the very month of his consecration, John, bishop of Clonfert, subscribed the ordinances there agreed upon for prosecuting war against the parliament; and, indeed, he thenceforth resided almost constantly in the chief city of the confederates, where he assisted David Eothe, then in his seventy-second year, and in some respects unable to discharge episcopal functions. Age, literary toil, and unremitting exertions to complete a woik which was not destined to see the light, had so impaired the health of the learned prelate of Ossory, that he was hardly able to venture abroad or visit his cathedral; but in J ohn of Clonfert he found a willing and energetic helper, who repre¬ sented him at all the grand functions solemnized in St. Canice’s, where he was very constantly engaged confirming and ordain¬ ing. Towards the close of 1643, the bishop of Clonfert was elected a spiritual peer of the supreme council; and in the fol¬ lowing year, when that body resolved on erecting a separate court for transacting the civil and criminal business of the kingdom, they appointed him its president, with the title of chancellor, thus recognizing his extensive knowledge of juris¬ prudence and fitness for a position of such great responsibility. Nor did they fail to mark their appreciation of his brother Hugh, then a distinguished member of the Franciscan order j for they elected him about the same time, out of many others, to proceed to the court of the Netherlands, with full powers to act as their agent and representative. Meanwhile, the bishop of Clonfert, notwithstanding the duties he had to discharge in Kilkenny, looked well to the administration of his own diocese ; and in the course of a very short time after his elevation to the see, he had the happiness of reforming many abuses inseparable from the state of the times, and doing much for the spiritual and temporal prosperity of his flock. He caused many of the churches to be repaired, and supplied with the necessary requirements, presided at 136 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN synods of his clergy, and strove to his utmost to promote the education of the young, His reputation in the council of the confederates stood high, and particularly so with that section of it which was unfortunately biassed in favour of lord Ormond, but although he did not by any overt act approve the policy of the latter, he nevertheless gave indication that he would not scruple adopting it in preference to what were termed extreme measures. This will be easily accounted for, when we remember that lord Clanricarde maintained strict neutrality during the early pro¬ gress of the confederates, and, as we may suppose, influenced the action of his kinsman. He had now been three years in possession of the see of Clonfert, when the archbishopric of Tuam fell vacant by the death of O’Queely, slain as we have already described ; and no sooner was this event signified to the supreme council than they, without consultiiig the primate or any other metropolitan, as was their custom, recommended He Burgh as a fit person to succeed the deceased prelate. When this important business was submitted to the nunzio, who was then in Kilkenny, he, although deprecating the right of the supreme council to meddle in such matters—ancient privileges claimed by the English crown notwithstanding—wrote at once to Home a diluted re¬ commendation of He Burgh, whom he described as a man “ of honest views, slow in speech, and sufiering from an attack in the eyes, which might ultimately damage his sight.” In the same letter he bore ample testimony to the fitness of Hugh, the bishop’s brother, whom he had met at Paris, stating that “ he was a man of greater energy and activity, whose nomina¬ tion was simply meant to reflect honour on the already conse¬ crated.” In the interval between this contemplated translation to the see of Tuam and the rejection of lord Ormond’s peace by the synod of Waterford, in 1646, it would appear that the nunzio had no firmer friend or more active partisan than the bishop of Clonfert. In fact, of all the prelates who declared against the viceroy’s overtures, none denounced them with greater vehem¬ ence than did He Burgh ; and that nothing might be wanting to convince the nunzio of his hostility to lord Ormond, and the terms the latter proposed, he subscribed the condemnation of all the articles of said peace, and took his place as spiritual peer in the supreme council which was elected in August of the aforesaid year. At that time the archbishopric of Tuam was still vacant, and the nunzio was if possible, more anxious for He Burgh’s translation. In fact he urged the holy see to lose THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 137 not a moment in sanctioning it; for, just about the time of the Waterford assembly he wi'ote to Rome—“That he had nothing more to say concerning the church of Tuam save that six months’ experience of the bishop of Clonfert had convinced him that he deserved promotion.” There was, however, a difficulty in the way • for the grand duke of Tuscany had written to the nunzio, praying him to bestow the vacant see on father Nicholas Donnellan, an Augustine friar, and provincial of his order in Austria; but however much disposed Rinuccini might have been to oblige a sovereign in whose court his own relations held high office, he declined interfering in behalf of Donnellan, alleging, in answer to the duke’s request, that the archbishopric had already been given to some one of the many for whom interest had been made at Rome. In justice to the nunzio, it must be admitted that he used his influence with the holy see for Clonfert’s promotion; and he was accordingly translated to the archbishopric of Tuam early in April, 1646. The announce¬ ment of this fact was hailed with joy by the clergy and people of Connaught, all of whom entertained a high opinion of the talents and piety of the new archbishop, whom we shall hence¬ forth designate by his proper title—John of Tuam. After being duly inducted to the archbishopric, his first care was to restore, as far as the revenues of his see enabled him, the ancient cathedral of St. Mary, which had sufiered great dilapidation during the intrusion of the Protestants, who, to accommodate the small congregation they either forced or bribed to assemble there, had completely destroyed the archi¬ tectural symmetry of its once beautiful interior. The arch¬ bishop, indeed, spared no expense or labour in re-erecting the altars, and replacing the sacred furniture which had been carried off by the Anglican prelates; and as soon as he had com¬ pleted this portion of his work, he turned his attention to the archiepiscopal palace, which he rebuilt sumptuously from the foundations. Hard by the cathedral, on the gospel side of the grand altar, stood the sacellum or oratory, in which the relics of St. Jarlath were venerated for many an age ; but when heresy found its way to Tuam, it was unroofed, and stripped of all its votive offerings. Fortunately, however, the relics'^ were preserved; and the archbishop had the satisfaction of seeing them once more deposited in their ancient resting place, which he took care to restore to something like its former splendour. Indeed, it would be impossible to find, in the history of the * See Appendix I. 138 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Irish hierarchy, any prelate worthier of appreciation than this archbishop of Tuam; for we have it on the authority of one who enjoyed his intimate acquaintance, in prosperity as well as adversity, that he expended the entire revenue of his see in works of public utility. His hospitality* was unbounded; and his taste for books, of which he made a vast collection, with the view of founding an extensive library in Tuam, was so notorious, that bibliopolists from France and Belgium found in him a ready and generous purchaser of the valuable works which then issued from the press of those countries. An enthusiastic admirer of the Jesuits, he advanced them a large sum for maintaining a seminary which they erected in Galway, and in the same city he built for himself a stately residence three storeys high. As the see of Clonfert was now vacant, the archbishop was desirous of having it conferred on his brother Hugh, in preference to Walter Lynch, vicar-capitular of Tuam; but as the latter was strongly recommended by the nunzio, his competitor, as may be supposed, had little or no chance of success. Indeed, the nunzio at this moment did not conceal his dislike of the aspirant or of the archbishop himself; for he described them both as “ hot-headed, and wishing to have everything their own way;” and the same letter which conveyed this intelligence to Home, represented that it would be unwise to have “ two brothers collated to the two best dioceses in the provinceand that the newly-appointed arch¬ bishop of Tuam was “ the most unmanageable and refractory of all the Irish prelates with whom he (the nunzio) had to deal.” ‘‘He blames me,” wrote the latter, “ for recommending Lynch, and what is worse, he blames another who is superior to us all.” In this divergence of opinion respecting the fitness of Hugh for the see of Clonfeid, originated that mutual anti¬ pathy which thenceforth influenced the nunzio and the arch¬ bishop in their relations to each other. As for the latter, his enemies were wont to say he was a mere creature of the nunzio as long as the see of Tuam remained vacant; but that, on attaining the object of his ambition, he cared little for the person who had been instrumental in elevating him. True or false as such allegations may have been, a crisis was now fast approaching when those two high dignitaries were to meet face to face in the council of the confederates, where, as we shall see, they differed in their views of polity, and parted “ un¬ friends.” Let us state summarily the causes which brought about such sad and lamentable results. * /See Appendix J. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 139 During the entire of the year 1647, the confederate armies were singularly imsuccessful in the field; and as most of the expeditions which proved so disastrous had been undertaken at the instigation of the nunzio, the blame and censure, always inseparable from failure, were unsparingly thrown upon him. The attempt to seize Dublin, which was saved by the want of accord between the confederate generals, was attributed to the nunzio’s overweening ambition j and to thwart him still more, the Catholic clergy within the walls of the metropolis had subscribed a protest against his proceedings. Then came the fatal battle of Trim, in which Preston’s fine army was utterly routed by the forces under Jones, the parliament general, to whom lord Ormond had surrendered the city ; and, as it were to crown all these reverses, lord Inchiquin had taken Cashel, Callan, and Fethard, and beaten the Munster army, under TaafFe,* on the field of Cnoc-na-noss,t where Colkitto, alias A.laster MacDonnell, was cruelly assassinated after he had been made prisoner. To heighten still more this appalling state of affairs, there was a great scarcity of.money throughout the country ; and as agriculture had been neglected, famine, with its attendent train of horrors, threatened to sweep away the remnant of the population. No one, indeed, was more sensibly aware of this than the nunzio himself; but he counted on supplies of money and munitions from abroad, and on the support of Owen O’Neill’s army, which, being entirely devoted to his views, would, as he thought, sooner or later, retrieve all losses, and place him and the clergy once more in the ascendent. The supreme council of the confederates, however, thought otherwise, and could see no remedy for the wretched state of the country, except in making peace with Inchiquin, and gaining him over to their interests, -A_ meeting was accoid- ingly held at Kilkenny, to deliberate the preliminaries of this business; and it was then resolved that French, bishop of Ferns, and Nicholas Plunket, should proceed to Pome with all possible haste, and submit to Innocent X. a report on the unhappy condition of Ireland, and a memorial, praying his holiness to expedite the supplies which the nunzio had already promised in his name. Meanwhile, the spiritual and temporal peers, together with the representatives of the lower house, had been summoned to Kilkenny, on the 23rd of April, 1648, to discuss the measures already taken to forward the cessation,. * See Appendix 'K. f The shrubby hill—“ Mens Kamosus.” 140 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN and to effect, if possible, a union of Incliiquin’s army with that of the confederates, that both might act in concert against the parliamentarians. Before proceeding, however, to the house of assembly, fourteen of the bishops met in the nnnzio’s residence, and there, after examining the proposed treaty, a large majority pronounced that ‘‘as it gave no certain guarantee for the free and open exercise of the Catholic religion and total abolition of all penal enactments against Catholics, they could not in conscience subscribe it.’’ Among those who condemned the cessation was John of Tuam ; and his conduct on this occasion astonished the nunzio, for he had already signed the instructions given by the supreme council to the commissioners whom they empowered to treat with Inchiquin. Strange, however, and inconsistent as it may appear, John of Tuam afterwards subscribed the articles of the cessation, and adopted the policy of the party opposed to the nunzio, justifying himself in a public instrument, which set forth “ that he never repudiated the agreement with Inchiquin, but only certain clauses of it, which were subsequently altered and amended.” The majority of the bishops, indeed, was with the nunzio; but of the eight who opposed him, the most con¬ spicuous and formidable was the archbishop of Tuam, whose influence was duly appreciated by the adherents of lord Ormond. Exasperated by the conduct of the supreme council, and apprehensive of his personal safety, the nunzio retired from Kilkenny soon after the cessation had been concluded, and betook himself to Maryborough,* where Owen O’Neill’s army lay encamped, in order to devise some measure which might, perhaps, crush the Ormondists, and prevent all good Catholics from marching under the banners of the perfidious Inchiquin and the temporizing Preston. Both had vowed eternal hos¬ tility to O’Neill and the nunzio himself; but surely in this hour of their direst extremity, holy Church lacked not weapon wherewith to smite her oppressors, and protect her truest champions ! On the 7th of May, 1648, groups of citizens of Kilkenny might be seen collected in front of St. Canice’s, reading an ominous broad sheet, which had been hung out early that morning, on the grand gate of the cathedral, by Massari, dean of Fermo, and auditor to the nunzio. Its purport was plain and intelligible to the humblest capacity; it was sentence of See Appendix L. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 141 excommunication and interdict, fulminated by the nunzio, against all abettors of the truce with Inchiquin, and the members of the supreme council who had brought about that fatal compact. The interdict forbade the opening of the churches, as well as the celebration of the divine myste¬ ries, in all cities, towns, and villages which submitted to the peace ; and all bishops and priests were commanded to pro¬ claim this ordinance throughout the kingdom, chaplains of regiments being specially ordered to read it aloud in the camps for the soldiers serving under their respective generals. The first consequence of this measure was quick desertion from Preston’s ranks to the standard of O’Neill, for such of the troops of the former as were not “ excommunication proof ” quitted the Leinster general’s camp, and went over in detach¬ ments to that of the northern chieftain, who had sworn fealty to the nunzio, and war to the last extremity against the allies of Inchiquin. The supreme council, indeed, had good reason to dread O’Neill, who, with his army, was within twenty-four hours’ march of Kilkenny, and they accordingly despatched letters under their great seal, beseeching him to disregard the censures; but, to the consternation of the messenger, the Ulster general after perusing the document, flung it into the Are, contemp¬ tuously, and commanded the bearer, if he valued life, to quit his camp with all possible speed—“ Peturn,” said he, “ to Kilkenny, and tell your masters of the supreme council, that I regard them as violators of the oath of association, enemies to God and man, and justly smote by the sword of holy Church.” The supreme council, however, and the abettors of the peace, looked on the censures in a different light, alleging that the nunzio had not jurisdiction to proceed to such lengths ; and in order to quiet the conscience of the populace, they in¬ terposed an appeal to Pome, pending the examination of which, as they gave out, the excommunication and interdict must necessarily be null, and of no effect. Some of the bishops, and they were the minority, maintained this view of the case, and John of Tuam, especially with two of his suffragans, re¬ solved to treat the sentence as uncanonical, and utterly unjusti¬ fiable. He, indeed, made no secret of his resistance to the nunzio ; for when Clanricarde consulted him about levying troops to act against O’Neill, he quashed his lordship’s scruples, and persuaded him that he was justified in marching against the man who professed his readiness to maintain the validity of the censures at the sw'ord’s point, despite the supreme council 142 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN and the opinions of some of its ablest spiritual peers. Not¬ withstanding the opposition which the censures encountered from the latter and the lay chiefs, they were faithfully observed in many of the towns, but nowhere more so than in Galway. In that city, however, John of Tuam, with one of his suffragans, and two friars of the discalced Carmelites,* preached openly against the nunzio’s authority and interdict; but the mayor, warden, and populace were all on the side of the latter, whom they esteemed highly for his many excellent characteristics of head and heart. The archbishop, lioweA^er, persevering in his re¬ sistance, caused the doors of the collegiate church to be forced open, and there officiated publicly, despite all remonstrances. This appeared to the nunzio so heinous a crime, that he charged his confessor to set out for Rome, and report the whole affair to the pope ; suggesting at the same time that John of Tuam should be cited to the Holy See, to answer for his conduct. Another infringement of the nunzio’s authority was also laid to his charge, inasmuch as he had celebrated, in the church of the Carmelites, who refused to observe the censures, and were excommunicated by the nunzio, in a full congregation of eight bishops and thirty theologians, assembled within the walls of the town. Hoping to remedy this sad perplexity, the nunzio endeavoured to convene a synod in Galway, but Clamicarde and Inchiquin, acting for the supreme council, intercepted the bishops on the way, and then laid siege to the town, which, after capitulating, was obliged to contribute a large subsidy, as penalty for its devotedness to the nunzio and rejection of the cessation. In the midst of this weltering confusion, French and Plunket reached Kilkenny, on their return from Rome, the former bringing with him the pallium for John of Tuam, and both charged with letters from the pope to the bishops of Ireland. Before they had time, however, to communicate to the supreme council the result of their mission, they learned that Massari had been imprisoned on three distinct charges, namely, publishing the censures, intercepting letters addressed to the spiritual and temporal peers, and capturing a ship belonging to the archduke Leopold of Belgium, while he, Massari,! was entering the har- Ijour of Waterford, on his return from Italy. French felt sorely hurt at this stern proceeding of the supreme council, and lost no time in securing the sympathies of the archbishop of Tuam for the nunzio’s auditor, who was indebted for his libera- * See Appendix M. t See Appendix R. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 143 tion to their united exertions, a fact of wliicli lie subsequently lost all remembrance, for as French pithily remarked— Scivit henejiGium sumere, et reddere nescivit,” or, in other words, he proved himself dead to all sense of gratitude. But at this juncture the state of the country was truly appalling, rent as it was between two conflicting factions— the Guelfs and Ghibellines of the West—one maintaining the nunzio’s censures, and the other insisting on the cessation with Inchiquin. “ Altar,” says French, an ocular witness, “ was arrayed against altar, the clergy inveighing against each other, and the bishops and best theologians in the land maintaining different views of the validity of the censures. As for the populace, they hardly knew what side to take, or what guide to follow, for in one church they heard the advocates of the censures proclaim, ‘Christ is here,’ and in another, ‘He is not there,^ but here with us, who stand by the dissentient bishops, and the appeal to Borne against the nunzio’s conduct.” The latter, indeed, imputed the blame of all this to John of Tuam, and spared no effort to prove to him how much he detested his conduct in aiding any compact with Inchiquin. Anticipating the arrival of French, and knowing that he was bearer of the pallium to the archbishop elect, the nunzio despatched a letter in cipher to his secretary, then in D uncan¬ non fort, telling him to inform French that he was not to deliver the archiepiscopal insignia till he had first communicated per¬ sonally with him, the nunzio, then in Galway. That there might be no mistake in this grave matter, the secretary was further instructed to leave a copy of the letter, deciphered, with the chaplain of the fort, in case he himself might be absent when French landed; and, relying on the faithful dis¬ charge of this order, the nunzio flattered himself that John of Tuam would be deprived of that sacred badge without which he could merely subscribe himself archbishop elect. Whether the secretary or chaplain ever communicated this message to French does not appear, but it is certain that the latter carried out the instructions he had received at Borne, and accordingly delivered the pallium to John, archbishop of Tuam, in the cathedral of Kilkenny, on the 26th of August, 1648, the con¬ dition of the times dispensing, we may presume, with the law usually observed of conferring it in the metropolitan’s own church, or at least within his province. Be that as it may, the nunzio was thwarted, and the partizans of the archbishop rejoiced at beholding him so honoured by the holy see. Early in February, 1648, just as the nunzio was waiting in 144 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Galway bay for a fair wind to bear him away from the unhappy land, where, to use his own expression, ‘‘the sun is hardly ever seen,” lord Ormond returned to Ireland to resume the vice¬ royalty, and organize the scattered forces of the confederates against the parliamentarians. As soon as bis arrival was made known, John of Tuam, accompanied by the bishop of Terns, waited on him at Garrick, and invited him to joroceed without delay to Kilkenny, to enter on his new government. The viceroy graciously assented to the proposal, and gave orders for a detachment of Inchiquin’s heretic troops to garrison the castle of Kilkenny, where, on his arrival a few days afterwards, he dissolved the old confederation, and set about preparing for the coming campaign. With his usual craft, Ormond thought it expedient to retain some of the bishops in his council; and when John of Tuam and French of Ferns were proposed, they were duly sworn, but on the distinct understanding that they were to sink their episcopal titles, and subscribe themselves in their proper name and surname. This, indeed, seems to have been an undignified compromise ; for it must be borne in mind that Ormond, on this occasion, guaranteed the open exercise of the Catholic religion, possession of the churches with their reve¬ nues, and many other advantages contingent on the success that might be achieved by the Catholic forces. None of these things were expressly mentioned by the viceroy in any of his former treaties; and the nunzio, writing from Kouen, attributed these ample concessions “ to the censures,” which, said he, “ so terrified the bishops and laity, that they resolved to secure all they could, and make terms which should be irrevocable.” The articles of this peace between Ormond and the prelates were ratified by Charles II. at the Hague, in March, 16 49; but the faithless monarch, after his Irish forces had been beaten by Cromwell at Drogheda, Wexford, and elsewhere, basely truck¬ ling to the Scottish covenanters, recalled all concessions made in favour of the Catholics, and declared the act of his lieutenant in that regard null. The Irish bishops now found that Ormond was not to be trusted, many of them believing that he had counselled the king to violate his royal word so solemnly pledged, and they, therefore, assembled at Jamestown, about the beginning of August, 1650, and decreed that they would reconstruct the old confederacy, and thenceforth hold themselves independent of the viceroy, whom they now regarded as an enemy to themselves and their religion. This declaration was signed by fifteen bishops, among whom was John of Tuam. On the eleventh of the same month, the assembly still sitting THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 145 at Jamestown, elected six commissioners to treat withtlie Duke of Lorraine, and invite him to land forces in Ireland, then almost entirely in the power of the Cromwellians, and among the advocates of this project none proved himself more de¬ monstrative than the archbishop of Tiiam. In November, im¬ mediately following, the prelates adjourned to Loughreagh, and there subscribed a public instrument teeming with pro¬ fessions of loyalty to the king, and beseeching lord Ormond to transfer the viceroyalty to a Catholic. John of Tuam signed this important document, and towards the close of 1650, he had the satisfaction of seeing Ulick de Burgh, earl of Clanri- carde, installed in the high dignity vacated by Ormond. The negotiation with the duke of Lorraine was now actively prose¬ cuted by the new viceroy ; French, bishop of Ferns, and others having been commissioned to proceed to Pont-a-Mousson to hasten the protectorate, but, as we have already said, the busi¬ ness came to nothing, owing to the imprudence of the Irish agents, or perhaps the reluctance of Clanricarde, who had no real desire to see foreign soldiers garrisoning Ireland. Whether he had or had not made little matter, for sir Charles Coote put an end to the whole scheme by marching on Galway, into which he drove Clanricarde’s outposts on the 12th of August, 1651, and then pitched his camp within a few hundred yards of the walls. During the siege, or rather blockade, the bishops and clergy from every part of Ireland took refuge in the town, and among the former was J ohn of Tuam. At last, after a gallant resis¬ tance, extending over nine months, Galway capitulated, and opened its gates to the parliament troops on the 12th of April, 1652. Foreseeing that the Gromwellians would not keep faith with the inhabitants, the archbishop made his escape out of the town as Stubbers’ soldiers were entering it, and hurried off to Ballymote, in the neighbourhood of which place he ^lay con¬ cealed till 1654, when he was arrested and brought under escort back to Galway, where, after being robbed of his ring and other valuables, he was flung into a noisome prison, overcrowded by numbers of the clergy and chief nobility of the land. In this place he had an attack of paralysis, but notwithstanding the dangerous nature of his malady, he was detained there till August of the following year, when, with many others, he was put on board ship and landed on the coast of Normandy.* He then made his way to Nantes, where he resided five years, maintained by the alms of the French committee formed for the * See Appendix 0. L 146 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IM relief of the distressed and expatriated Irish. From Nantes he removed to Dinan, in order to be near St. Malo, a port then much frequented by Irish merchants, from whom he could learn how it fared with his unhappy country. After a year’s sojourn in the latter place, he resolved to brave all risk and return to Ireland ; for, notwithstanding the many infirmities under which he laboured, he desired nothing so much as to spend the residue of his days among his scattered flock. The pains and penalties of exile were bitter enough, but still more bitter would it have been for him to fill an exile’s graA^e, far away from the shrine of St. Jarlath, and that venerable cathedral of St. Mary, for whose restoration he had done so much. He accordingly set sail from St. Malo, about the beginning of 1663, and even¬ tually reached Dublin, after a tedious passage of fourteen days. The moment his arrival in the metropolis was made knoAvn, he Avas visited by Peter Walsh, the semi-apostate Franciscan, who presuming on his influence Avith the viceroy, impertinently rated him for daring to return without permission. Walsh’s grand aim was to get the archbishop to sign his famous Pemon- strance, but all his arguments were unaAmiling ; and the only answer he had from the aged prelate was, that he came back to Ireland to lie down at rest in his grave and native soil.” In vain did Walsh remind him of his opposition to the nunzio’s censures, and the declaration he had subscribed at J amestown against lord Ormond ; for, although the archbishop kncAV the latter was one of those who treasure the remem¬ brance of a wrong, and ignore that noblest revenge—forgive¬ ness—he could not be moA^ed by any threat or insinuation, and merely requested his tormentor to present his respects to the viceroy, and tell him that he dutifully craved leaA^e to remain in Ireland “ for so short a time as he had to drag on a miser¬ able existence, and end it by death more welcome, which he hourly expected.” What precise ansAver Ormond returned does not appear, but it is certain that he ordered the archbishop to leave Dublin with all possible haste. Worn doAvn by many infirmities, he was unable to perform his journey on horseback, and conse¬ quently had to be carried by slow marches in a litter, till he reached the neighbourhood of Tuam, where a kind friend had prepared a humble residence for him. The archiepiscopal palace, we need hardly say, was closed against him, for it was then occupied by Pullen, the Anglican prelate, who, on getting possession of it, could not conceal his admiration of the man who exhibited such refined taste in its decoration and appoint- THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 147 ments. In tlie course of the following years, 1665-6, John of Tuam was more than once importuned by Plunket, bishop of Ardagh, and others to meet them in Dublin, “ for the purpose of giving his majesty assurances of their future fidelity in all temporal causes and contingencies,” but neither his health nor inclinations would allow him to take any part in these pro¬ ceedings, in which he knew right well that Walsh was prime mover. He replied, however, at considerable length to the bishop of Ardagh ; and the letters he wrote on those occasions may justly be regarded as evidences of sound sense and a thorough acquaintance with the English language, such, indeed, as is rarely met with in epistolary compositions of our times. He had done with politics ; and nothing now remained for him but to make preparation for his appearance at that bar to which O’Neill, Einuccini, and many others of the great men, with whom it was his lot to differ, had been summoned long before. Exhausted by sufferings and old age, he seldom left the house in which he found refuge after his arrival in the metropolis of his see ; but he attended, nevertheless, as far as increasing ail¬ ments allowed, to the discharge of his episcopal functions— confirming the young, and consecrating the holy oils, not only for his own diocese, but also for that of Cashel; not, indeed, on holy Thursday, but eight days previously, by virtue of a special privilege he obtained from the Holy See, after having first sought and received, ad cautelam, absolution from the nunzio’s censures. During the last days of his life, when he himself was no longer able to officiate, he had Mass daily cele¬ brated in his chamber by father Thomas Quin, a Jesuit, who remained constantly at his bedside, ministering to his comforts, and admiring the resignation with which the illustrious patient submitted to excruciating agony, for which medical science had no anodyne. In an interval, however, of comparative freedom from pain, it occurred to him that he should make arrangements for his interment; and, as he knew that he might not hope to lay his bones with his predecessors, he gave directions to have the oratory of St. Jarlath’s, situated on the right of the cathe¬ dral, but detached from that building, re-roofed with tiles, for the purchase of which he furnished money, and duly provided with all the requirements of a mortuary chamber. This being accomplished, he received the last rites of the Church, and then passed to the better life on the fourth of April, 1667, after having completed his seventy-seventh year. His death occur¬ red on Holy Thursday, and on Easter eve his mortal remains were borne processionally to the place he himself had chosen. 148 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN and from whicli the shrine of St. Jarlatli had long before been removed by some pious hand, to guard it against desecration. Roger O’Flaherty composed an epitaph for this illustrious pre¬ late, as did also the celebrated medical doctor O’Meara, and we subjoin both for the gratification of our readers :— “ POST . SEX . UNDECIES . SEXCENTAS . MILLEQUE . BRUMAS . APRILIS . QUARTA . PROXIMIORE . DIE . IN . CCENA . DOMINI . DOMINUS . TUAMENSIS . JESU . FIT . COMMENSALIS . GUI . FAMULATUS . ERAT.”* “ BURGIUS . EXCUSSO . VIDUAM . RECTORE . CAPESSIT . LUCTANTEM . PELAGO . TURBINIBUSQUE . RATEM . QUI . FACILI . SOBERS . FLUCTUS . ELUDERE . FLEXU . , OBVIUS . ADVERSO . NON . AMAT . IRE . SABO . HAG . IBBE . ARTE . GREGEM . SERVAT . SINE . VUBNERE . VICTOR. QUI . TANDEM . IN . PORTU . SOSPITE . SERBS . OBIT . PRO . GREGE . CERTANTEM . PASTOREM . OCCUMBERE . PUBCHRUM . EST . UTIBIUS . SABVO . EST . CONSENUISSE . GREGI.”t CHAPTER IV. The second prelate who accompanied Rinuccini on • his first visit to lord Mountgarret, was Thomas Fleming of Dublin, a truly eminent man, whose biography, however, would be in¬ complete, without some notice of his predecessors in that see. Our object in premising such details is to make our readers aware of the state in which Fleming found the diocese when he was appointed its chief pastor, and to throw additional light on the history of the archbishops who filled the chair of St. Laurence, after the apostasy of Hugh Cur wen, who, we may observe, like his immediate predecessor Brown, was an Englishman. After the defection of Curwen, and his removal to Oxford, in 1567, there was an interval of thirty-three years, during which the jDopes did not deem it prudent to appoint an arch¬ bishop to the vacant see of Dublin; apprehending, we may suppose, that to do so would only tend to exasperate queen Elizabeth’s ministers, and involve the Catholics of the pale in * 0’Flaherty. t O’Meara. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 149 difficulties, far greater than those with which they were actually contending for the maintenance of tlieir faith. At length, however, when the success of Hugh O’Neill’s arms seemed to threaten the existence of the English interest in Ireland, or, at all events, gave reason to hope tliat the severe enactments against Catholics would be mitigated, if not entirely swept from the statute book, Clement VIII., at the suggestion of the king of Spain, then the ally and supporter of the northern Irish princes, nominated a Spaniard to the archbishopric of Dublin,-^ This was Matthew de Oviedo, a Franciscan friar, and native of Segovia, whose consecration took place in IGOO.f Very little is known of the history of this archbishop or his antecedents; but it is certain that he was employed by the king of Spain to negotiate with the Geraldines in the south of Ireland, twenty years before his elevation to the see of Dublin, as appears by a despatch sent by the commons of Lixnaw, to the queen’s attorney and recorder of Limerick, dated the 27th of September, 1580, which mentions him thus: “There is in great estimation with them, the Geraldines, one Frere Matthew Oviedo, which they call coynmissarius cqoostolicus, and the bishop of Killaloe, Donald‘Ryan’s son.” The object which the pope had in view when appointing a Spaniard to the see of Dublin must have been to strengthen Spanish influence in Ireland; and, doubtless, the same motive prompted him to nominate another native of the same country, about the same period, to the diocese of Leighlin. This was Francis Ribera, who, however, never visited our shores, and died at Antwerp, on the 10th of September, 1604, after having built an inflrmary for the Irish Franciscans of that city. Returning to Matthew de Oviedo, we may state that he never exercised jurisdiction in the diocese of Dublin, | indeed, never set foot within the pale, and knew nothing of the country, save the little he saw of it on the southern and northern coast. On his arrival as arch- bishoj), he tarried some time at Donegal, in the castle of Hugh Roe O’Donnell, and soon afterwards went back to Spain, to impress on the king the necessity of sending munitions and money to the Irish princes. After an interval of about a year, Philip III. despatched a flotilla, with a small contingent of men and arms ; but unfortunately, Juan d’Aguila, the commander- in-chief, instead of landing on the north coast, anchored in the * See Appendix P. t See Most Rev. Dr. Moran’s, “ Archbishops of Dublin.” • X See Appendix Q. 150 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN harbour of Kinsale, and set about fortifying that place. On board one of the ships of this squadron, Matthew de Oviedo, accompanied by Thadeus O’Farrell, a Dominican, and bishop of Clonfert, revisited Ireland ; but when the expedition failed, the archbishop returned to Spain with Hugh O’Donnell and Florence Corny, to supplicate further aids, and impeach the conduct of the Spanish generalissimo. The latter was repri¬ manded for his misconduct, but owing to the untimely death of O’Donnell, the negotiation for the desired aids was abruptly broken off, and Oviedo, abandoning all hope of ever again see¬ ing Ireland became suffragan to the archbishop of Compostella.* Thus the disaster of Kinsale cost Oviedo his archbishopric of Dublin; but it placed him, nevertheless, in a safer position than he could have held in Ireland during the reign of Eliza¬ beth, or that of James I. On his decease, which occurred some time in 1610, Paul V. caused the vacant see of Dublin to be filled by Emer MacMahon, bishop of Clogher, whose translation took place on the 2nd of May, 1611. This prelate was a scion of the princely house of Farney, which had risked and lost all its grand possessions for adhering to Tyrone, and whose utter ruin was accomplished when the latter, ac¬ companied by James MacMahonf and others of the Irish Catholic nobility, fled from Ireland in 1607. Many years before that memorable event, Emer, then a mere boy, was sent to the university of Pont-a-Mousson, where, after passing through the various schools with great distinction, he was promoted to holy orders, and honoured with the degree of doctor in civil and canon law. On his return to Ireland, he devoted himself to missionary duties in his native diocese, and was eventually created its bishop in 1609. When we contemplate the state of the times in which MacMahon exchanged the see of Clogher for the more eminent and perilous one of Dublin, the conviction forces itself upon us that he must have been a man of great zeal and great courage. Had he insisted on remaining in his native diocese, the glens and forests of Monaghan, and above all, the devoted¬ ness of the people to the consecrated member of a family that had suffered so much for faith and country, would, doubtless, have afforded him secure shelter in the hour of need, and stood between him and the myrmidons of the law, who were ever on the watch for priests and bishops. But in accepting a dignity * See “ Flight of the Earls,” p. 257. f See Appendix E. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 151 wliicli, a short time before, had been filled by the subject of a monarch who had striven to drive the English out of Ireland, it is certain that he exposed himself to imminent risk and certain death, had anyone been found base enough to betray him into the hands of his enemies. It must also be considered that the deputy at this period was a rapacious fanatic, famous for inventing plots and conspiracies, by which he contrived to aggrandize his fortunes ; and still more famous for his affected zeal in advancing the reformed religion. Indeed, none of his predecessors since the beginning of the English schism was a greater enemy to the popes, or a more unprincipled persecutor of Catholics, than sir Arthur Chichester, Avhose sole aim was to extirpate the native Irish, and get possession of their lands, in order to parcel them out between himself and the new adven¬ turers, who were subsequently designated “planters.” With this object constantly in view he did his utmost to keep alive the bigotry of the English cabinet, and he hardly ever dictated a despatch from Dublin castle that did not teem with alarms of Si)anish invasion to retrieve the disaster of Kinsale, or “ sure in¬ telligence ” gathered from spies and hired informers, that O’Neill Avas on the point of returning from Dome with papal bulls, Italian soldiers, and the Irish legionaries serving in the Low Countries, to subvert the government of James I. Willing as the latter was to oppress his Irish Catholic subjects, terrorism of this sort helped to stimulate the volition; and as for Chi¬ chester, it procured him summary licence to plunder, transplant, and otherwise persecute the professors of the old religion. We may, therefore, easily imagine what must have been the con¬ dition of the Catholics of Dublin during Chichester’s deputyship, and what presentiments must have filled the mind of MacMahon on his arrival in the city, where, instead of an archiepiscopal throne he was more likely to find elevation to the scaffold. Church or chapel he had none for the performance of his functions, and whenever he celebrated Mass, ordained or con¬ firmed within the city walls, he had to trust himself to the honour of some stout-hearted burgess, who incurred thereby all the fearful penalties in which the harbourers of priests and bishops were involved. Withal, he did fulfil his high mission successfully, and although his ministrations were carried out clandestinely and in the slums of the city, his exhortations and example did more, perhaps, to confirm the people in their lealty to Dome than if he had officiated or preached to them in either of the two metropolitan cathedrals, which the piety of Ostmen and Anglo-Normans had erected in the ages of faith. 152 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Nor was there any want of a grand example to nerve the archbishop and his flock for whatever might befall them, as long as Chichester had power to persecute, and as a neces¬ sary consequence to make martyrs. Indeed, the year after MacMahon’s translation to Dublin, Cornelius O’Deveny, bishop of Down and Connor, and friar of St. Francis’ order, then in his eightieth year, was arrested in the house of a Catholic, in the very act of confirming children, and hurried to Dublin, where he was arraigned on a fictitious charge of high treason, but in reality for exercising the functions of a “ popish bishop.” Tried by a jury, eleven of whom were Scotch and English, as a matter of course he was found guilty, and sentenced to death, with all the revolting accompaniments so common at that period. Flung back into his cell, while preparations were being made for execution, Chichester offered him life and liberty provided he took the oath of supremacy, but he spurned the ])roposal and refused to compromise his soul. Truly pathetic, indeed, are all the incidents of this aged prelate’s death, and some of them we may not overpass. On the morning of his execution, after blessing the poor girl who tended him in his prison, he begged, as a last and crowning favour, that she would dress his mutilated remains in the Franciscan habit which he always carried about with him, telling her that that coarse serge was dearer to him than the bishop’s purple. Haled through the streets on a hurdle, and followed by a vast multitude, who knelt at every halt to crave his benediction, as he sped on what he termed his “ triumphal procession,” he at last reached the gibbet; and mounting it with steady step, as though heaven had braced his palsied limbs for the occasion, he told the sj)ectators that he was about to die for the faith, and that they should be prepared, if necessary, to go through the same ordeal for the same glorious object. Rudely inter¬ rupted by a fanatical hypocrite, who knew how the words of the doomed prelate would tell on the hearts of the spectators, and challenged to avow that he was about to pay the penalty of high treason, O’Deveny solemnly repeated his former de¬ claration, and then resigned himself to the tenable process of strangling, decapitation, and embowelling, all of which was performed by an Englishman, the Irish executioner having fled to avoid having any part in the bishop’s murder. While the slaughter was being perj)etrated, the spectators remained silent and motionless, as if petrified by the horrid spectacle, but when it was done, they flung themselves upon the lines of halberdiers who kept the ground, and forced their way to the THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 153 platform, where they struggled with each other for a fragment of the palpitating flesh or a shred of the clothes of him whom they now justly regarded as a martyr. Women dipped their napkins, provided for the purpose, in his blood, and one man, more fortunate than his fellows, succeeded in carrying off the severed head, to preserve it, doubtless, as a venerated trophy of that com¬ bat in which the vanquished have always been declared victors. So died Cornelius 0’Deveny,*on the north bank of the Liffey, in the year of grace 1612. We know not what effect all this may have ■wi’olight on Chichester; but it is certain, that familiarity with such scenes served to intensify the devotedness of the Catholics to their faith, and to strengthen their abhorrence of a creed that was to be propagated by sweeping the people off their lands, and consigning their spiritual pastors to the hangman. It is more than probable that MacMahon was in Dublin at the time of this execution, for, notwithstanding Chichester’s in¬ cessant efforts to lay hands on him, he fortunately evaded them all. In fact, the archbishop, one would think, must have borne a charmed life, or at all events placed himself in the custody of friends who were ready to sacrifice themselves in order to save him. Small as the population of Dublin was at that period, the chances of arresting such a personage were all the greater, but yet, despite every difficulty, he continued to labour for his people, tending them, as we have already said, in the purlieus of the metropolis, occasionally in the houses of the Catholic nobility, and more frequently among the mountains and in the dense woods, south of the city. Proclamations of outlawry against priests and bishops were disregarded by the Catholics, and the hired spy and informer too often found, that the risk was in excess of the reward, however tempting the latter might be. The deputy himself admits all this in a letter which he addressed to lord Salisbury, just one year before MacMahon’s translation, and avows that he was utterly unable to extirpate the clergy, or bring the people over to the schismatical church. ‘‘ If,” says he, “ some course be not speedily taken for re¬ straining of the bishops and priests, I cannot see how this king¬ dom can long stand as it doth, for every city and town is full of them, upon a strange apprehension they have taken, giving it out, that it is the king’s pleasure they should have the exercise of their religion, so it be not public in the churches; and when an officer or a soldier lays hold on a priest within * See Appendix S. 154 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN their garrison, for none else will lay hands on them, the young men and women of the city or town where he is taken, do flock together, and with ill-usage and blows do make rescue of the party apprehended. If I have observed anything in the time I have spent in this kingdom, I may say it is not lenity and good works that will reclaim these men, but an iron rod and, severity of justice, and seeing the law hath not here provided for the uprooting and punishments of these firebrands of sedition, the priests, we can think of no other remedy, but to proclaim them and their relievers and harbourers for traitors.” Notwithstanding these restraints, we find MacMahon presi¬ ding at a provincial synod in Kilkenny, in 1614, and in the same year Chichester writing to secretary Win wood, after relating liis ill-luck in not being able to arrest one Meagh, a priest just returned from Koine, gives us another insight into the actual state of the country, and at the same time an inkling of the mortal dread he had of O’Neill’s return. We are,” says he, “full of priests of this man’s condition, practisers of sedition and insurrection, of which there is not a greater worker than Owen MacMahoune, the titulary archbishop of Dublin, son to Owen McCooley, who is still in this kingdom, and often in this city of Dublin, albeit I cannot get him, nor any draught upon him, though I have offered largely for it. I do my best to discover their plots and frustrate them, but without more help I shall be soon wearied in a tempest, where commands, law, and proclamations are no use without the sword to make them obeyed. All this assures me they are hopeful of invasion from foreign parts, and return of the fugitives.” This appeal for larger powers was answered by James I. in June of same year, when he sent his deputy the following “ instructions ” :— “ Whereas the priests, who are the chief corruptors of the nobility and gentry of that realm, do employ many turbulent and working spirits from beyond the seas daily to maintain the party of ill subjects at home, and send forth others to bring Tyrone bach, and other active traitors, with some foreign forces, to begin a rebellion, hoping vainly to effect that with the sword which they cannot gain by practice; and though these mes¬ sengers can do no other office than blow at coals, yet they continue to keep the subjects and fugitives in some hope of the wished innovation, which our other good and loyal subjects dO' most fear. We think it expedient, and do hereby require you THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 155 to imprint and proclaim a proclamation for the banishing of these firebrands, the priests and Jesuits.” Notwithstanding the king’s proclamation, MacMahon re¬ mained in Ireland, as nearly as we can calculate, till about 1620, for his government of the see of Dublin stretched over a period of nigh eight years, at the termination of which he repaired to Dome, after committing his flock to the care of a vicar. Thinking, probably, that lapse of time Avould render James considerate to his Irish Catholic subjects, the archbishop spent three years in the eternal city, hoping, as we may sup¬ pose, to be able to return, but he was seized with fever and died there, on the 24th of August, 1622, in the 53rd year of his age. His remains had honoured sepulture beside his kinsmen O’Neill and O’Donnell—the banished earls—in the church of St. Pietro Montorio, of which his successor the present cardinal- archbishop of Dublin, is titular. Chichester was recalled in 1615, but before retiring he had attainted the fugitive earls, confiscated iTlster to the crown, and erected forty new boroughs, to facilitate the passing of extreme penal measures against the Irish Catholics. His suc¬ cessors in office, Jones, Denham, and Oliver St. John, proved themselves unrelenting persecutors, enforcing the oath of supremacy, and mulcting the “ papists,” who, because they would not frequent the Protestant churches, were thenceforth designated Recusants. During the administration of lord Falkland, whose tenure of office lasted over eight years, the same harsh measures were carried out with more or less severity; and although some writers have given this nobleman credit for leniency and forbearance, he had little or no claim to either one or the other. It was in the second year of his deputyship that Urban VIII., at the earnest request of the clergy and people of Dublin, resolved that the see recently vacated by the decease of Emer MacMahon should now be filled by another member of a patrician family, in whose veins, however, there was hardly a drop of Celtic blood. The baronial house of Fleming dated their arrival in Ireland from 1169, when they came, “seventy heroes dressed in coats of mail,” to fight for the expulsed MacMurcha, and about nine years afterwards Richard Fleming built the castle of Slane, and was killed there in an engagement with the native Irish. This baron was the founder of the family which ever after¬ wards ranked among the most distinguished of the Pale ; many of them filling the highest offices in the civil and military administration, and proving themselves at all times strenuous 156 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN iipliolders of the English interest in the land of their adoption. Singularly remarkable for their piety, the barons of Slane built and endowed many churches and monasteries within the terri¬ tory they had won with their swords, but none of them all deserved better of religion than baron Christopher, who, in 1512, restored the ancient monastery where Dagobert, king of Austrasia, was “ shorn a monk,’^ in the seventh century, and bestowed it upon the friars of the third order of St. Francis. Like other Catholic families of the Pale, the Flemings always espoused the cause of the Eriglish crown in the protracted quarrels with the native Irish; and during the wars of Eliza¬ beth they maintained their hereditary valour on many a bloody field, won or lost by O’Neill and O’Donnell. Their fidelity, however, to the ancient religion was as signal as their bravery ; for, despite every efibrt to induce them to apostatize, they clung to it persistently ; and when others of their rank took the oath of supremacy, or played the hypocrite by fre¬ quenting the schismatical churches, it never could be said that a single member of the house of Slane turned traitor to the creed of his forefathers. One of them, indeed, acted unwisely, in 1583, by aiding the arrest of O’Hurley, archbishop of Cashel; but that baron ever afterwards bewailed his over- zealous loyalty, when he found that he was instrumental, though unintentionally, in procuring the archbishop’s woeful death. To heighten his chagrin, a roving gleeman of the period com¬ posed a ballad set to a dirge-like air, which he called “ Slane’s Treason,”* and we can imagine how the baron must have felt on learning that the ballad was everywhere sung, not only within the Pale, but far beyond it, north and south in the country of the “ Irish enemy.” Thomas Fleming, third son of William, sixteenth baron of Slane, a friar of the order of St. Francis, was the person named by the pope to succeed to the vacant archbishopric of Dublin. This Thomas, when a mere stripling, proceeded to Louvain, where he entered the convent of St. Anthony, long before he attained the age prescribed for making religious vows. Devo¬ ting himself entirely to philosophical and theological studies, he rapidly acquired great repute for profound learning, so much so, that he was soon promoted to the chair of lecturer, and in this capacity it was his good fortune to have for scholars, Col- gan, author of the Acta Sanctorum ; Patrick Fleming, his near * Supplicium Eicardus insignis musicus fidibus celebravit lamentabili atque funesto tono qui “ Slanii Baronis delictum ” nuncupatur. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 157 kinsman, author of the Collectanea Sacra, and many others whose works reflected honour, not only on the order to which they belonged but also on their common country. Before he had reached canonical age, young Fleming was sent by his superiors to teach philosophy and theology in the school of Aix-la-Chapelle, and on being promoted to the priesthood, he was appointed guardian of St. Anthony’s, in Louvain. His large acquirements and profound piety made character for him at Borne, and won for him the respect of Urban YIII., who ordered his consecration to be performed with as little delay as possible, although he had not then attained his thirty-first year. The pontiff’s orders soon reached Louvain, and accord¬ ingly Thomas Fleming was consecrated archbishop of Dublin, on the 30th of December, 1623, by James, archbishop of Malines, and Florence Corny, archbishop of Tuam. It was with great reluctance he took upon himself the dignity to which he was now raised, and greater, if possible, was the regret with which he retired from the tranquil little Flemish convent, where he left behind him such loving and learned friends, and above all, his nephew Thomas,* who had exchanged his terrestial for an eternal inlieritance, and renounced helmet and glaive for a cowl in the cloister of the Franciscans. A few months after his consecration, the archbishop arrived in Dublin with extensive powers from the pope, relating to the time and intervals of ordination, and authority to confer holy orders on the sole title of “ mission,” dispensation having been granted in those of henejice and 'patrimony, to meet the exigencies of the Irish church, then sadly in want of priests. His first abode in the metropolis was with his brethren of St. Francis ; not indeed in the grand old convent of the order, for that had long since been razed, but in a humble house which they rented in Cook-street, and where they were suffered to celebrate the divine offices p)rivately, and under the most stern restriction. Withal, the archbishop carried out, as far as was practical, the observance of the rigid discipline he had em¬ braced in his youth, wearing the habit within doors and under the episcopal robes when officiating, maintaining abstemious diet, and sleeping on a hard pallet, like the rest of the fra¬ ternity. This was his ordinary style of life, from which he never departed, whether staying with the poor community in their Dublin house, or in the ancestral castle of Slane. Never¬ theless, we have it on the authority of one who was personally * Seo Appendix T. 158 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN acquainted with him, that his manners were graceful, while his genial and warm heart won the respect of all classes, so much so, that they applied to him what had been so justly said of another great man of the same fraternity— “ . . . . Clara de stirpe parentum, Et meritis clarior ipse suis.” Hespect, however, for noble lineage did not disarm the bigotry of the executive, for in the very year of the archbishop’s arrival, a proclamation appeared, ordering all popish prelates and priests to quit the kingdom. But priests and people had grown so accustomed to manifestoes of this sort, that the only heed the former gave them was to disperse for a while, and wait till the excitement had subsided. In fact, instead of quitting the kingdom, members of the religious orders came into it from Spain and Handers, and among the rest a com¬ munity of Capuchins established itself for the first time in the metropolis, in 1623. As for the Franciscans, the archbishop caused them to open schools for the young, and not only for them, but for aspirants to the priesthood, who were thus provided with lectures in philosophy and theology. This, indeed, was a hazardous experiment; but Fleming was too devoted to the welfare of his flock to be scared from dis¬ charging his high mission by Falkland’s threats or proclama¬ tions. Passionately fond of the ancient literature of Ireland, he generously entertained brother Michael O’Clery in the con¬ vent of Dublin, and it was under that poor roof that the chief of the Four Masters found bed and board while transcribing a goodly portion of the material which was subsequently incor¬ porated in the “ Annals of Donegal.” To his brethren in Louvain he extended the same patronage, and it is to his fostering care we are indebted for Colgan’s Triadis Thauma- turgce’^'^ a fact gratefully acknowledged by the author, who states that the archbishop transmitted to him many a rare book and valuable record, without which he could not have completed his noble work. These, surely, are evidences of an intellectual nobility, which, in that transition period, strove to maintain the honour of Ireland, by preserving and perpetuating its ancient literature. Notwithstanding the proclamation to which we alluded, there was an interval of three years, during which the archbishop * See Appendix U. IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 159 liad opportunity to attend to liis flock, with hardly any let or liindrance ; so much so, that he officiated with more or less publicity outside his own diocese, at the consecration of Boetius Egan, bishop of Elphin, which took place at Drogheda, 1626. In the year following, however, Falkland found pretext for enforcing coercive measures in the reluctance shown by the Ulster Irish, to take military service under the Protestant crown of Denmark, and still more so in a strange rumour, that the eldest son of the late earl of Tyrone was about to return to Ireland, as monarch of the realm, under protection of the king of Spain. “ It is given out, wrote the deputy to lord Killultagh, “ that Tyrone hath his crown delivered him, not of peacock’s feathers, as his father’s was, but of pure gold, and constantly lies upon his table at his bedside, in his chamber, at Brussels.” With the dread of this imaginary king before him, the deputy pressed on the government the necessity of considering W^hether indulgence from the laws and promise of toleration of religion be seasonable,” and concludes by asking permission to rack one Grlassney 0 Cullenan, a priest,” who dissuaded the idle swordsmen of Ulster ”—a designation then given to the peasantry—from abandoning homes and kindred for the army of a Lutheran sovereign, and was supposed to be in cor¬ respondence with the son of the great earl of Tyrone then commanding for the archdukes in Brussels. About a month after receipt of the deputy’s letter, the privy council answered i You^ ought to rack and hang the priest if you And reason for doing so, for such is the opinion of the council and his majesty’s pleasure.” Falkland carried out his instructions, and duiing the remainder of his term of office dealt rigorously with the Catholics, whom, for their supposed sympathy with the pretender, he regarded in the light of mortal enemies. I]i the midst of such difficulties, however, Fleming remained constantly among his flock, tending it as well as he could, and observing a prudential course, which, for a while screened the Catholics from open outrage. But only for a while ; for in 1629, the poor Franciscan church in which the archbishop officiated, was entered during the celebration of Mass, by a posse, under command of Bulkeley, the heretic archbishop, who tiue to iconoclast tradition and instincts cast down the image of St. Francis, desecrated the altar, and scattered the congregation with halbert and musket. The Catholics, it is true, resented this cruel insult, and compelled Bulkeley to take shelter in a neighbouring house; but their just indignation 160 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN was severly punished by the closing of the three churches which they had in the city, and sequestration of the school which they had ventured to open in Back-lane. In the following year, however, Eleming obtained permission to re-open the Franciscan church; but as for the Back-lane* school it was, by order of the lords justices, incorporated with Trinity college, and so remained till the appointment of the earl of Strafford, who restored it to the Catholics. In 1631, the archbishop seems to have enjoyed comparative quiet in the exercise of his functions ; for at that period he interdicted two English secular priests—Harris and Caddell; and by a public instrument to be read in all the chapels and oratories of Dublin, forbade *the Catholics, under pain of excommunication, to be present at their ministrations. Harris satirized the friars in a series of scurrilous tracts, and maintained that the archbishop showed a decided preference for them, to the exclusion and depreciation of the secular clergy. Father Patrick Cahill,! too, then parish priest of St. Michael’s, and vicar-general of the diocese of Dublin, being suspected of having published some verses reflecting on the archbishop, was suspended from his functions; but after the lapse of some time, he was reinstated on the re¬ presentation of Dease, bishop of Meath, who pronounced that a cleric of his diocese wrote the objectionable poem, and that the parish priest did not cultivate the Muses. We mention these incidents summarily, in order to show that the archbishop, at this period, was suffered to discharge his high office with little or no restraint. During Strafford’s administration, when the great object was to raise money for the king, policy dictated the wisdom of treating the Catholics with forbearance, and we may presume that Fleming’s exalted position found some show of respect from the lord deputy, who detested the fanatical low- church bigots then fast rising to power in England and Ireland. Again, if the presence in the Irish parliament, of a member of the archbishop’s family could mitigate the severity to which he and his flock had been subjected, that benefit was made avail¬ able to both in 1634, when William, nineteenth baron of Slane, Avas summoned to take his place in the councils of the kingdom. We have already stated that Thomas, eighteenth, baron, had transferred all his rights and privileges to his brother William, and'taken the habit in St. Anthony’s at Louvain; and it may not be out of place to notice here, that the writ which awarded to William the place of his father deceased, Avas issued with a * See Appendix. X. t See Appendix Y. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 161 salvo jure to said Thomas, should he or his heirs return to Ireland and re-assume the title of lord Slane, that William could take no advantage or benefit by said writ. Thomas did come back, as we shall see, but not to exchange the cowl for the coronet of a peer. The parliament of 1634, however, did nothing for the Catholics, who, notwithstanding their number, the high cha¬ racter of their representatives, and large subsidies which they had given to the king, in consideration of the “ graces” or re¬ moval of grievances aflecting their religion and estates, were overborne by the deputy, who treated them with high contempt. Nevertheless, Strafibrd in some instances endeavoured to con¬ ciliate them ; and in order to show how much he had their interests at heart, he commanded the Protestant bishops and their chancellors to desist from fining them for having their children baptized, and their marriages solemnized by priests of their own faith. This poor concession was, indeed, a boon to the Catholics ; so much so, that they and their prelates regarded it as an instalment of the “ graces,” and the commencement of a new and better era. Influenced by this proceeding, Fleming assembled a Synod, in which he confirmed the ordinances of a former synod, at which archbishop MacMahon, had presided, and made varioiis regulations for the spiritual government of his province. The principal subjects mooted on this occasion were the publication of bans of marriage, contributions for the support of the bishops, and a limitation of faculties, which, owing to the necessity of the times, had been given to the re¬ gulars, who then, and for many years afterwards, discharged all the duties of secular or missionary priests. Solely intent on raising money for the king, by inquiries into defective titles, high commission couids, and other infamous devices, Strafibrd allowed the Catholics the exercise of their religion within their churches, which to do him justice, were not at any time during his tenure of office outraged by the fanatics, who, he himself tells us, employed their persecuting power “ rather as an engine to draw money out of the Catholics’ pockets, than to raise a right belief in their hearts.” Soon after Wandesforde’s appointment to the deputyship, Fleming held another synod at Tyrcroghin, and among other subjects discussed at this assemblage was the preference given in Salamanca and elsewhere to Irish students of the pale, while those of the northern and western provinces, whose fathers had sided with Tyrone in the late wars, were treated harshly by the superior, who was a Jesuit and admirer of English polity. This, M 162 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN indeed, was an old grievance, for it formed the ground of a re¬ monstrance which was drawn up by Corny, archbishop of Tuam, and presented by Hugh O’Donnel to Philip III., thirty- seven years previously. During Wandesforde’s administration, the Catholics enjoyed the same indulgences granted them by Strafford ; for the successor of the latter was too much encraofed in exacting subsidies for the king to think of persecuting those off whom the largest amount was to be levied. Notwithstanding the excitement caused by the discovery and failure of the plot to seize Dublin castle, and the persons of the lords justices, who held the reigns of government after Wandesforde’s recall, in October, 1641, the Catholics of the metropolis were not molested or accused of sympathizing with Kory O’Moore, Maguire, MacMahon, and other chieftains en¬ gaged in that attempt. Indeed, it would appear that Fleming’s flock displayed great loyalty on the occasion; for just two months afterwards, when the Catholic nobility of the pale as¬ sembled at Swords, to take measures against the extirpation Avith which sir Charles Coote threatened them, we find father Patrick Cahill, already mentioned, sent by the said justices with a manifesto, inviting lords Gormanston, Slane, and others to appear before them; and what is still more remarkable, this very priest had been previously employed by the executive to parley with sir Phelim O’Heill, and other leaders of insurrection in Ulster. At length, however, when the justices and their agents threw off the mask, and set about extirpating the papists by courts-martial, and hanging priests without formality of trial, the Catholic prelates and nobility seeing themselves exposed to certain death on mere suspicion, assembled at Kilkenny, in May, 1642, and there confederated for the defence of their lives, religion, and liberty.* O’Keilly, archbishop of Armagh, was the leading man in this grand union, and as soon as his letters of summons reached Fleming, the latter, unable to attend in person, on account of illness, deputed father Joseph Everard, then guardian of the Franciscan convent in that city, to act as his proxy. A short time after this first meeting, William, baron of Slane, and Lord Gormanston, died in Kilkenny, and as soon as intelligence of the decease of the former reached Belgium, * Strictly speaking the first meeting of the confederated Irish Catholics took place on the hill of Crofty, Co. iMeath, when lord Gormanston and other Catholics of the Pale conferred with Koger 0’Moore, who repre¬ sented the “ ancient Irish.” THE SEVEiSTTEEISTTH CENTURY. 163 father Thomas Fleming returned to Ireland, to aid the newly- formed organization by his influence and presence. This, indeed, was a memorable incident in the history of the Con¬ federates ; for the man for whose rights to the barony Strafford had made such special provisos now re-appeared, not indeed to claim the title, but to play his part in the grand drama, as a simple friar of St. Francis’ order. One* who knew him person¬ ally lays great stress on this fact, which is best told in his own quaint language :— Upon intimation of the affairs of Ireland, he left Louvain and proceeded to Kilkenny, where he attended to the public good, resorting from time to time to the house of his brother-in- law, the viscount Clanmorris ; but, at last, finding that things did not prosper in Kilkenny, he went to the county Louth, and made up six or seven score well-armed men, and by witty and fine stratagems, took twelve garrisons in that county. He spared no labour night or day in that province. Either in their sleep, march, or otherwise, where and when the enemy least expected, this religious warrior did come upon them, to their mightie prejudice, either taking by assault, or demolishing by fire, their garrisons at the loss of their proper lives.” As for the archbishop, now elected member of the supreme council of the confederates, he appointed Edmond O’Keilly vicar-general of his diocese, and then proceeded to Kilkenny, where he took up his abode with his brethren in the Franciscan convent. There in that poor house, which the community vented, he observed the strictest discipline, and seldom left its precincts except when public business demanded his presence in the house of assembly. Towards the close of 1643, the con¬ federate arms were crowned with signal success, so much so that many of the chief strongholds of the kingdom, Dublin and some of the other seaport towns excepted, were entirely in their possession. Indeed, the metropolis itself must have surrendered, had the supreme council acted with energy, or rather, if it had not among its most influential members many of ^ lord Ormond’s kinsmen and dependents. At this momentous crisis—when the Catholics had three well-equipped armies in Leinster, and when ‘‘ the forces of the English government were so oppressed with wants, and the discontent of their officers so great, that there needed no other enemy than hunger and cold to devour them ”—lord Ormond managed to bring O O * The anonymous author of —T.C.D. “ The Aphorismieal Discovery of Faction.” 164 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN about a cessation of hostilities, and initiated that clever policy which enabled him to sow the seeds of division in the con¬ federate council. The latter were credulous enough to believe him sincere in his overtures for a peace that would satisfy all their requirements ; and in order to hasten that end, they sent their commissioners to meet him near Castle Martin, on the 23rd of June of the aforesaid year. The instrument empower¬ ing the commissioners to treat with Ormond was signed by Fleming, and we might attribute this false step to his instinctive loyalty to the English crown, if we did not find Malachy, archbishop of Tuam, subscribing the same document. The ratification of the articles was subscribed by Fleming in Sep¬ tember following, and this compromise, made doubtless with the best intentions, proved fatal to the confederates, for it caused them to halt, and lay down their arms at a moment when they could have dictated their own terms to the viceroy. It is almost superfluous to observe, that the latter soon after¬ wards violated this agreement by countenancing the Scotch covenanters in Ulster, then nominally under his command, and sanctioning the raids and massacres of their leader, general Munroe. In the following year, 1644, father Scarampi, sent by Urban YIII., arrived in Ireland, in the capacity of papal agent to the confederates; and about the same time the king wrote to Ormond, urging him to conclude a peace with the latter. The negotiation, however, was postponed froni day to day by Ormond’s astuteness, and nothing was agreed upon till 1646, when the king could derive no benefit from his viceroy’s delusive concessions. In 1644 Fleming subscribed the memorial, praying the pope to raise father Wadding to the dignity of cardinal, and we may easily imagine what pleasure it gave him to beseech that high honour for so distinguished a member of his order, whose literary labours and exertion in his country’s behalf richly deserved any reward the pontiff could bestow upon him. Pre- termitting all notice of that diplomatic juggle, designated the ‘‘ Glamorgan treaty,” we will now turn to the after part of Fleming’s career, and follow it to its close. At the time of Pinuc- cini’s arrival in Kilkenny, he had completed the twenty-second year of his archiepiscopate, and it would appear that he himself was then anxious to divide the care of his see, or that portion of it, then very limited, where he exercised jurisdiction, with a coadjutor. The individual named for this dignity by the Ormondist party in the supreme council of the confederates was Edward Tyrrell; and when the subject was first proposed ,^1 1 i THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 165 to the nunzio, in 1645, he deprecated the appointment, and wrote to Rome, that the archbishop’s only ailment was “obesity.” In the following year he objected to Tyrrell, because the latter “ was too much inclined to favour lord Ormond,” remarking at the same time, “ everyone insists that none but the most dis¬ tinguished subject in the kingdom should be promoted to so exalted a dignity.” 1648, however, he prayed the pope to promote Tyrrell to the coadjutorship, alleging that his conduct in the French court, where he was agent for the confederates, gave great satisfaction to the ecclesiastical party, but some months later, in the same year, he revoked his former recom¬ mendation, and deprived him of all chance of the mitre. As for the archbishop, he resided almost constantly in Kil- [i kenny after the nunzio’s arrival, and left his diocese to the i- care of O’Reilly, his vicar-general, who administered its affairs y spiritual and temporal. In fact, it would not have been safe '!• for him to remain in the metropolis, where Ormond’s hostility l|; would have met him at every step, and the more so as the li, former knew that one of the nunzio’s most cherished projects 1 ^ was to get possession of Dublin, and restore its churches to I the catholics. There can be no doubt that Fleming’s devoted- i ness to the nunzio, from the first moment of their meeting, was ■i sincere, and, as we shall see, he subsequently proved himself a constant advocate of the policy which the former laboured I to carry out. Thus, in the congregation of the clergy at Waterford, in 1646, when the nunzio rejected lord Ormond’s ; peace as a mere device to delude the Catholics, then triumph¬ al ant at Benburb and elsewhere, the first name on the list of the twelve prelates who protested against it is that of Thomas, [j archbishop of Dublin. Again, in 1648, when fourteen bishops I assembled in Kilkenny to discuss Inchiquin’s truce, Fleming I subscribed the instrument which denounced it as iniquitous, I and dangerous to the Catholic religion. When, finally, the it advocates of that measure were excommunicated, and the nunzio had pronounced sentence of interdict against all towns in which \ the censures were disregfarded, Fleming, who was then in Dublin, wrote to David Rothe, bishop of Ossory, commanding him to have them observed, not only in St. Canice’s, but in all the other churches of his diocese. “ As your metropolitan,” so I runs this stern order, “ I exhort, admonish, and to the utmost I of my power, command you to cause said censures to be I observed. Should you do otherwise, I have exonerated my I conscience, and leave yours to the divine judgment, and the j| verdict of the apostolic see.” 166 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN At length, Y^lien the niinzio was about to leave Ireland, the archbishop followed him to Galway, and joined the party who adhered to him in an ineffectual attempt to stay his departure. E-inuccini himself alludes to this in the instructions with which he armed his confessor, Arcamoni, who was then setting out for Eome, to quash the appeal Avhich the Ormondists had forwarded to the Holy See :—“ You will take care to report,” says he, “ how I have been urged to stay in Ireland to save ecclesiastics from persecution, and you will not fail to mention how the archbishop of Dublin implored me with tears to aban¬ don my resolution.” At this juncture it would appear that the archbishop was summoned to Kilkenny by the Ormondist council, but though he went there and caused the censures to be observed in his own convent, he refused to take any part in their deliberations, which he treated with dignified contempt. Eesenting this, they deposed his vicar-general, O’Eeilly, and substituted in his stead father Laurence Archbold ; the sole fault laid to the charge of the former being, as we are told by a trustworthy witness, his obedience to the nunzio and his proper metropolitan ; and if other fault did appear, as did not, it was beyond any secular power to alter the dignity of such a place, and confer it on another by lay authority, without advis¬ ing with the archbishop.* Cromwells arrival in Dublin, in 1649, preventing the possi¬ bility of the archbishop’s return to the metropolis, or, indeed, to any part of his diocese, he thenceforth employed whatever energies he possessed in futile efforts to save Ireland from the destruction with which it was threatened by the usurper. Dnable, by reason of illness, to assist at the assembly of the prelates in Jamestown, which took place in 1650, he empowered French, bishop of Ferns, to act as his proxy ; and in the year following he was appointed by lord Clanricarde, then viceroy, to treat with the duke of Lorraine, who proposed to send an army into Ireland, on condition that he and his successors should be declared its protectors, and indemnified for whatever they might expend in prosecuting the war against the Crom- wellians. Fleming took a very active part in this business ; for, indeed, the last act of what may be called his religio- political life was to write to his vicar-general, O’Eeilly, whom he had reinstated, and also to Edmond O’Dempsey, f bishop of Leighlin, then the only Catholic bishop in Leinster, exhorting them to exert themselves to the utmost in promoting Lorraine’s * Aphorismical Discovery of Faction. t See Appendix Z. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 167 protectorate. Meanwliile, however, the negotiation was sud¬ denly broken off by the imprudence of lord Taaffe and the other commissioners ; who, on reaching Brussels, were said to have entered into articles with the duke, exceeding the powers given them by Clanricarde. At this crisis sir Charles Coote, at the head of the parliamentary forces, was marching on Galway, within whose walls Fleming had taken refuge, hoping, perhaps, that general Preston,* with the wreck of the confederate army, would be able to hold the town for Charles II. The archbishop, however, did not live to witness the surrender of the place, for he died there on the 2nd of August, 1651, after having governed the see of Dublin twenty-eight years. The obsequies of this illustrious prelate were performed in the Franciscan church, and after his funeral oration had been pronounced by Walter Lynch, bishop of Clonfert, the mortal remains of Thomas, archbishop of Dublin, were interred at foot of the grand altar, which, in the following year, was pillaged, and levelled by Stubbers, the Cromwellian governor, who converted the monuments of the church into chimney- pieces and had various fragments of the costly marbles sold in England. CHAPTEB Y. On the 23rd of September, 1626, the obsequies of Hugh MacCaghwell, archbishop of Armagh, were solemnized in the Franciscan church of St. Isidore, at Pome. Brief, indeed, was his tenure of the Irish primacy, for in the very month of his elevation he was seized with fever, while making a pilgrim¬ age to the patriarchal basilicas, and died, after a short illness, just as he was preparing to set out for Ireland. His remains were deposited in the crypt of the church of St, Isidoro, where John, earl of Tyrone, erected a votive tablet to the memory of his friend and earliest preceptor. Hugh MacCaghwell was born at Saull, county of Down, about the year 1571. His parents were poor, but their poverty notwithstanding, they did all in their power to advance his early education, and when the boy grew up he went to the Isle of Man, and remained there many years, devoting himself to the study of classics and dialectics till he was recalled to Ireland, by Hugh, prince of Tyrone, who took him into his household, and appointed him tutor to his sons, Henry and Hugh. Under such an able master these noble youths made ♦ See Appendix A a. 168 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN rapid proficiency, and so highly were MacCaghwell’s services appreciated by the great chieftain that he conferred the honour of knighthood on him, made him his confident, and offered him a command in his army. MacCaghwell, however, having no taste for the profession of arms, declined the honour. But there was another department in which he could serve his lord and chieftain, and when the latter proposed to him to accompany his son Henry to the court of Spain, in order to procure aids for the Ulster forces, he willingly set out, and faithfully executed the high commission with which he was entrusted. Visiting Salamanca, where the court was then staying, he frequented the far-famed schools of that ancient university, and after attending a course of lectures in philosophy, made up his mind to abandon diplomacy and all worldly pursuits, for a quiet studious cell in the monastery of St. Francis. One who knew him tells us that his novitiate, or probation term, was worthy the most devoted son of that order, and that a better or more mortified man never wore its poor habit. Weak in body and suffering from constant ailments, he refused every little indulgence offered him by the community, ever and always insisting that he had entered the cloister to learn the science of sufiering and accustom himself to penitential austeri¬ ties. At the close of his novitiate, he was ordained priest, and a few years later saw him promoted to teach theology in the university of Salamanca, where he earned the character of a ripe scholar, “ acute, grave, modest and sublime.” From Salamanca his superiors sent him to Louvain, to fill the chair of philosophy, and to aid the erection of St. Anthony’s, where he had for his pupils Fleming, Colgan, and other great men, whose names are famed in the pages of Irish literature. At length, being summoned to Home, in 1623, he set out in com¬ pany with father Patrick Fleming, and on his arrival in that city was appointed diffinitor-general of the Franciscans, and honoured with the chair of theology in the convent of Aracoeli. His splendid reputation had preceded him, and Urban VIII., who cultivated literature—himself a poet of considerable ability —and esteemed all labourers in the same field, welcomed him as a valuable accession to the schools of the eternal city. In¬ deed, so highly was the poor friar esteemed by the pontiff, that there was no favour which the latter would refuse him ; so much so, that when he and Wadding proposed to erect a college for the education of Irish secular priests. Urban not only entertained the project, but recommended it earnestly to THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 169 ' cardinal Lndovisi, who generously founded and endowed that establishment. Nor was this the only religious institution in whose erection he was instrumental, for he had long since co¬ operated with Florence Corny, in founding St. Anthony’s, at Louvain; and now that he was at Rome, even Wadding availed himself of his valuable services in completing the building of St. Isidoro. Meanwhile, his pen was not idle, for to his Life of Scotus, I published in 1620, he now added many other volumes, vindi- » eating the doctrines of the “ subtile doctor,” and proving, if j indeed proof were required, that the great philosopher of the * fourteenth century was ably represented by his most enthu- ! siastic and zealous apologist in the seventeenth. While occu- I pied in these metaphysical speculations, MacCaghwell was not unmindful of his countrymen serving in the continental armies; and, in order that they might not want wholesome reading in ! their native tongue, he wrote for their benefit a valuable little I treatise in Irish, styled “ The Mirror of Penance,” which, how¬ ever, was not published till 1628.* Towards the close of 1625, the see of Armagh, being vacant by the death of Peter Lombard, who departed this life, after a I sojourn of many years at Rome, pope Urban resolved that no ; time should be lost in providing a successor to that learned prelate. The pontiff was strongly urged to bestow the Irish primacy on Ross MacGeoghegan, t a distinguished friar of St. j Dominic’s order, who had already done signal service to religion ' in his native land ; but notwithstanding all the interest that ! was made for this eminent man’s promotion, he was passed ' over, at the joint solicitation of John O’Neill, earl of Tyrone, ' and Albert Hugh O’Donel, earl of Tyrconnell, who represented i to the pontifi' the unsuitableness of any Pale^s-man, no matter j how great his merits, for the metropolitan see of Ulster. Urban j was influenced by the remonstrance of the Irish princes, who ' desired nothing so much as MacCaghwell’s promotion, and he was accordingly consecrated archbishop of Armagh in 1626. i We have already stated that his illness was brief, and we may ; add, that he himself had a presentiment that it was to prove 1 fatal; for when the pontiff’s physician visited him, he deli¬ cately declined his kind offices, alleging that all remedies were * O’Hussy’s Catechism in Irish (published at Louvain in 1608) and ; Stapleton’s Catechism in Latin and Irish, published at Brussels, 1639, and dedicated to the archduke Albert, were compiled chiefly for the benefit of the Irish troops serving in the Netherlands, t See Appendix B b. 170 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN useless, as he kne\Y he was dying. He then wi’ote to the pope that he onght not appoint any one to the sed of Armagh with¬ out consulting the earls of Tyrone and Tyrconnell; and having done this he requested to have the last sacraments administered to him. At his bed side, in the poor cell of Aracoeli, were two brothers, Edmond and Anthony Dnngan, both Francis¬ cans, and his most intimate friends. Turning to the former, he calmly observed : “I have always been weak of body, and am now about to leave this world ; to yon, then, I bequeath my cross and ring, and to your brother I leave this poor habit, all that I have to give.” Then, fixing his last look on a picture of St. Anne, which was sent him from Sicily, and grasping the crucifix, he resigned his soul to God, and his renown to the schools. No one could have been more afiected by his premature death than pope Urban, who, on hearing of it, remarked, We have lost not a man but an angeland with equal truth did Yernuleus, in his panegyric of this prelate, observe, The life of great geniuses is like that of flowers, brief and transitory; and the purple is oftener the apparel of death than of life.” During the episcopate of Peter Lombard, who could not re¬ turn to Ireland, the primatial see was administered by Pothe, bishop of Ossory, in the capacity of vice-primate ; and on the death of MacCaghwell, he was empowered to perform the same duties, till Urban YIII. should think it time to fill the vacancy. As may be supposed, the exiled Ulster princes used all their influence to have' the primacy conferred on a man of their own province, and the pope, willingly granted their prayer. Ac¬ cordingly, the person selected for the. highest dignity in the Irish church was Hugh O’Peilly, bishop of Kilmore, son of Malmorra and Honora, the one a lineal representative of the ancient house of Breffhy-O’Peilly, and the other, a member of a junior branch of the same princely race. Hugh, their youngest son, was born in 1580, and received the rudiments of education under the paternal roof, where he made rapid progress in the study of classics and philosophy. His father wished him to join some of the Irish regiments then serving in the Spanish Netherlands, but he preferred ecclesiastical life; and after- completing his theological course in Ireland, was ordained jniest in 1618. He then set out for Rouen, where he prose¬ cuted the study of canon law in the same school with the justly celebrated John Lynch; and having distinguished him¬ self in every dejiartment of academic lore, and earned the reputation of a rare scholar, he returned to his native diocese,, THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 171 I deprived of a bishop since the death of Richard Brady, and ' was appointed vicar apostolic of Kilmore in 1625. Two years I afterwards he was consecrated bishop of that ancient see, by I Rleming, archbishop of Dublin, in St. Peter’s, Drogheda. [ During his government of the see of Kilmore, Fleming, Dease* ' of Meath, and other prelates, were engaged in a controversy about certain exemptions on which the mendicant orders in- 'f' sisted as their right; and among the bishops who then decided in their favour was Hugh Kilmore, who, by an instrument signed with his hand and seal, in June, 1627, declared that the regulars were not bound to contribute, of their precarious , income, to the maintenance of the ordinary or of the parish priests of the dioceses in which their convents were situated. In the year immediately following, Boyle, earl of Cork, and Loftus, viscount Ely, were appointed lords justices, in the absence of deputy Falkland, and these two unscrupulous per¬ secutors availed themselves of their amjDle powers to harass I the unfortunate Catholics, fining them for absenting them- j selves from the Protestant churches, and having their children baptized by their rightful ^^astofs. Hot satisfied with this i mode of extortion, they gave a sort of roving commission to a * staff of greedy officials, whom they styled “ surveyors of bells and parish churches,”! empowering them to go through the country and report on the state of religious edificesand while on this tour of inspection, “ to cess themselves on the 2 )apists for chickens and ha,con, and to arrest all suspected dignitaries of the Romish religion.” On arriving in the neigh- I bourhood of Kilmore, where, in virtue of their high powers, I all the hen-roosts and swine-styes were placed under contri- : bution, they were informed that Hugh O’Reilly, a popish bishop, had presumed to exercise his functions in that quarter, ordaining, confirming, and administering other sacraments ; and they at once resolved to carry him to Dublin, if they could ji lay hands on such a daring delinquent. The bishop, however, ] took refuge in the homesteads of his poor flock, and notwith¬ standing the temptation of large rewards, the executive could not induce any one to surrender him to his enemies. How ^ often, in those evil times, have the Catholic prelates found, in ^ the poor cabin of an Irish peasant, that shelter and protection which they could not hope to get within the moated mansions, 1 1 * See Appendix Cc. I t This office was created in Queen Elizabeth’s time, and so much were i its emoluments prized, that sir Ralph Lane applied for it in 1596. 172 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN inhabited by wealthy lords of their own communion ! Another incident, which we cannot omit, will show that, at the period of which we are writing, the life or liberty of a Catholic bishop weighed very lightly in the estimation of an English lord-deputy or his subordinates. We must first, however, premise that the pope, after a year’s deliberation, resolved to confer the primacy on Hugh Kilmore, and that the bull sanctioning his translation to the archiepis- copal see reached Ireland in 1627. Nevertheless, he did not exercise primatial jurisdiction before 1630, as the pallium was not sent to him till the last-named period, when he was suc¬ ceeded in the see of Kilmore by Eugene Sweeney.* Let us now revert to the incident to which we have alluded. When about to leave the scene of his earliest labours, Hugh, now archbishop elect of Armagh, asked father Cahill, parish priest of St. Michael’s (within the walls of Dublin) to get an artist to make two seals, one bearing the arms of Kilmore, for the newly-appointed bishop, the other for himself, with the arms of the primacy. Cahill executed his commission, but no sooner were the lords justices made aware of this simple fact, which they regarded as an illegal assumption of ecclesiastical titles, than they issued a warrant for the arrest of the priest, whom, as they could not lay hands on the principal delinquent, they flung into the dungeon of Dublin castle, from which he managed to escape after a lengthened imprisonment. We mention this circumstance solely to show how intolerant was the bigotry of the government at the period, and how delighted these justices would have been to trample under foot Hugh, archbishop of Armagh, if he had the misfortune to cross their path. As for him, be it told to his honour, he was not un¬ mindful of what Cahill had suffered in his behalf; for, at a subsequent period, when the poor man was entangled in some difficulties about canonical institution in his parish, the primate generously came to his rescue, and had him rehabilitated. On taking possession of the see of Armagh, O’Keilly’s first act was to convoke a synod of his clergy at Drogheda, where among other ordinances he enacted stringent laws against the use of chalices made of tin and other base metals; for the plunder of the churches and the confiscation of six counties in Ulster, after the attainder of the earls, had impoverished both clergy and people, and compelled the former to celebrate the fiivine service as best they could, and without strict observance * See Appendix D d. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 173 I of the rubric, as far as altar requirements were concerned. I'' Another matter of no less interest to his pastoral vigilance was I the depravation of morals then pervading all classes in the see i of Armagh ; for the new colonists, or “ undertakers,” as they I were called, had imported with them vicious habitudes hitherto " unknown to the Irish. To guard his poor flock against such corruption and contagion, O’Reilly laboured incessantly, and it i was his good fortune to find his efibrts crowned with success ; for the survivors'of the wars of Tyrone not only clung with < fidelity to the religion of their fathers, but kept themselves un¬ contaminated by the profligate example of the Scotch and Eng¬ lish planters. While thus reforming the discipline of the clergy and reconciling the dispossessed laity to their hard lot, 0 Reilly • had to proceed Avith greatest caution, frequently administering 1 confirmation in the woods or on the hill-sides, and occasionally ' resorting to some shieling for the celebration of Mass. W^ithal, in the face of these multiplied difficulties, he bore himself i courageously as beseemed a great archbishop, with the blood of ■ an ancient and noble race in his veins. When the represeii- ; tatives of the old septs grew wrathful, and would have thought 1 it not ill done to drive out the “ planters ” by whom they had ? been evicted from their rightful inheritance, he had only to instance the calamities which had befallen his own family and I kindred, in order to stay the uplifted hand and vengeful blow ; but when he addressed himself to their religious sensibilities, ii and showed that sufiering and oppression have ever been the ! portion of the predestinated, and that Grod, in his own good I time might foreclose the term of endurance, they listened to j him with reverence, and drew hope and comfort from his holy ! counsels. For fully eleven years before the rising of 1641, I archbishop O’Reilly was obliged to discharge all the functions I of his office as it were clandestinely for, to say nothing of the } anti-catholic settlers who were then scattered over XJlster, the |i jDrincipal towns of his see were garrisoned by troops, who, in , i their fanatic horror of prelacy of any denomination, would have j. deemed it a goodly act to imprison or hang him. We can, I therefore, understand how the foresaid term of his primacy is i not characterized by any of those demonstrative proceedings r which would have been inseparable from his dignity and posi- I tion in other and better circumstances. There is, however, ; one fact connected with the early years of his archiepiscopal ,j government which we may not pass over, namely, his earnest il but unsuccessful attempt to have the Gregorian calendar uni- li versally received, not only in his own diocese, but throughout if 174 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN all Ireland. In fact, lie was the first Irish bishop who endea¬ voured to supplant the old Julian computation; but his efibrts did not succeed, as the attempt was generally viewed in the light of a strange innovation. Pretermitting all notice of the cruelties and bitter oppression Avhich more immediately instigated the insurrection of 1641, we have only to state, that archbishop O’Peilly, like the other members of the Irish hierarchy, did his utmost to restrain the violence of the people, who would have wreaked vengeance on their persecutors, had they been left to their own wild instincts, at that momentous crisis. With sir Phelim O’Neill and Ma- gennis, lord Iveagh, he employed his great influence, urging them to keep the armed multitudes in check, and to prevent, as far as in them lay, the massacre and pillage of Protestants. Such salutary restraint, enforced by the exhortations of the chief pastor of the Irish church, produced most happy results ; for the northern chieftains, and the ill-disciplined forces they commanded at the first outbreak, respected him too much to violate the lessons of forbearance and charity which he perse- veringly inculcated. It is not our province to deal with the gross misrepresentations which have been ventilated regarding the conduct of the Irish insurgents at this period, or with the calumnies heaped on the head of unfoi-tunate Phelim O’Neill and his followers, for they cannot stand the test of historical criticism; but we may safely assert, that archbishop O’Peilly’s interposition saved many a life, and protected innumerable homesteads from fire and sword. Borlase, Temple, and others, have utterly ignored his interference in behalf of the sectarian colonists, who were then wholly at the mercy of the insurgents ; but we have only to repeat that the exaggerations of those writers would wear some show of truth, if O’Peilly had not interposed his high authority to curb the fierce impulses of men grown desperate by reason of the flagrant injustice with which they had been treated by the unconscientious authorities who then misgoverned Ireland. At length, when the revolution had spread through the mid¬ land and Munster provinces, and the lords of the pale found it necessary to arm for their lives and freedom of religion, O’Peilly bethought him that the movement might be shaped into a na¬ tional organization, which, if supported by an efficient parlia¬ ment, treasury, and army, would be able to sustain the king against his enemies, and secure for the Irish Catholics the repeal of all those odious laws, which ground them down since the apostasy of Henry YIII. This, indeed, was a grand idea. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 175 worthy the brain of a great statesman, and never since then, j’’ or before that period, has Ireland produced a greater prelate j than that one who originated the Catholic confederacy, i Devoting all his energies to this grand object, O’lleilly con- I; vened a provuncial synod at Kells, early in March, 16 42, when i' the bishops declared that the war undertaken by the Irish j people, for their religion, king, and country, was just and =: lawful. In the May following, he caused a national synod, composed of prelates and lay lords, to meet at Kilkenny, i where, after having ratified their former declaration, they framed an oath of association, to be taken by all their ad¬ herents, binding them to maintain the fundamental laws of Ireland, the free exercise of religion, and true allegiance to J, Charles I. Both synods were attended by the entire of the ‘ Irish hierarchy, either personally or by proxy, with the ex- i' ception of Thomas Dease, bishop of Meath, whose eventful history is inseparably associated with that of Hugh, arch¬ il bishop of Armagh. ; The family of Dease is one of some antiquity in the county : Westmeath, where they possessed considerable landed estates I early in the fifteenth century. They were also seized of a ! goodly property, in the county Cavan, and the head of the family, in 1596 and 1630, was Laurence Dease, father of Thomas, who, on the death of his elder brother, succeeded to the entire estate. This Thomas was born in or about the year I 1568, and from his earliest boyhood resolved to embrace the 'i ecclesiastical profession. Having completed his studies at f home, where he earned reputation as a poet in the Celtic tongue, and made himself thoroughly master of classical litera- S ture, he was ordained priest, and then proceeded to Paris, I where he graduated in theology, philosophy, and canon law, !' and was honoured with the title of doctor in each of these faculties. Paris was the first scene of his clerical career, and I I in that city he devoted himself to the performance of one of I the most painful, yet charitable offices that come within the I, sphere of a missionary priest—attending culprits on the scaf¬ fold. At length, his piety, learning, and gentle breeding made character for him at Pome, and Gregory XV. raised him to '■ the see of Meath. Dease was accordingly consecrated at Paris, I in May, 1622, and arrived in Ireland towards the close of the ^ following October. On taking possession of his diocese, he . convened a synod of the clergy, and after exhorting them to I co-operate with him in reforming many abuses then prevalent, he warned them of the necessity of proving themselves loyal 176 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN subjects to the English government in all things compatible with conscience. Unqualified loyalty was the fixed and ruling jDrincijole of his life, and nothing would have been more para¬ doxical in his eyes than an attempt to subvert any government, no matter how despotic or unjust. If anything were wanting to heighten Dease’s respect for English rule, at the period of which we are writing, lie found it, doubtless, in his constant association with his maternal relative, Kichard, tenth baron of Delvin, in whose mansion he resided nearly twenty years after his elevation to the see of Meath. Delvin, it must be recol¬ lected, was, in his hot youth, a rebel,” but worked his recon¬ ciliation, and saved his estates by turning traitor to O’Neill and O’Donnell, with whom he had, according to his own con¬ fession, plotted, in 1607, to subvert the government of sir Arthur Chichester. Grown old and very religious, he regretted the past, and like many another imrdoned revolutionist, found it safest policy to make a parade of his loyalty, and to denounce on all occasions the abettors of any attempt at insurrection. The interests of the prelate and the baron were in most respects identical, for both were zealous sons of holy Church, and both were in the peaceful enjoyment of a large estate. Religion counselled obedience to higher powers, and prudence suggested that neither of them ought compromise a fair inheritance by manifesting discontent or sympathy with “ the dispossessed,” whose main object was to recover their forfeited lands. Dease, in fact, was one of those prelates, whom Rinuccini describes as, “ Timid, satisfied with mere toleration, and content with being allowed to perform their few functions privately, with¬ out mitre or vestments, thus preserving the substance of the faith, and keeping themselves clear of all risk.” Actuated by such sentiments, Dease* preached submission and obedience to the constituted authorities ; and in justice to the latter it must be admitted that they did not trouble them¬ selves about him or his fiock so long as they kept aloof from the insurrection. When, however, the people of Meath did take part in the general movement, Dease found that his pacific homilies had gone for nothing; for, notwithstanding his praise¬ worthy efibrts to save the residence and library of Martin, heretic bishop of Meath, from destruction, the armed multi¬ tude, instead of obeying, told him that he had already over- * In a memorandum presented to the court of Rome, Dease is described as having been educated in France, and very devoted to England. “ Anglo- lliberuus, educatus in Gallia, erga Gallos et Anglos valde afiectus.” ' THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 177 f. I stepped Ills authority in forbidding them to go to the assis- p tance of sir Phelini O’Neill, while that popular chieftain was I: besieging Drogheda. What we have now stated will account' satisfactorily for Dease’s reluctance to take any part in the j organization set on foot by the primate, whose summons to meet the prelates assembled at Cavan, Kilkenny, and Armagh, either in person or by proctor, he persistently disobeyed. The i primate, however, would not despair of gaining him and lord i Delvin to the confederacy, till he had exhausted his last re- i source, which was to send father James Nugent, a Cistercieai friar, to wait on and entreat them to join the movement. Fair words and gentle exhortations failing, Nugent was authorised to threaten both prelate and baron with the metropolitan’s j, high displeasure ; but before resorting to the latter alternative, li: he was instructed to employ all his powers of persuasion, in [' order to show that the newly-formed confederacy had within it ' every element that was required to insure ultimate triunij^h. i Vainly, however, did Nugent urge that Owen O’Neill, with f a numerous staff of officers, was coming home from Flanders ; to supersede the fierce sir Phelim, and discipline the raw levies j which had rallied round the latter; that father Wadding was i getting large subsidies from the cardinals at Pome, nay, and from some of the continental princes, for prosecuting the war against the enemies of Catholicity and the king ; that the Irish troops serving the crown of Spain had laid up at Antwerp a considerable supply of arms, purchased with the savings of their pay, and finally, that the supreme pontiff countenanced I the movement, nay, blessed it, and promised to sustain it. j But all these arguments were lost on Dease; for, after remark- II ing that the condition of a country is never so hopeless as ij when it has to trust to foreign invasion for redress of j grievances he shrugged his shoulders, and silenced the pleader j by quoting that text in which divine wisdom rebukes the |) improvident and overweening—“ What king about to make I war with another king doth not first sit down and think , whether he be able, with ten thousand, to meet him, that with twenty thousand cometh against him 1 ” In fact, Dease looked on the whole project as imprudent and r chimerical, and he consequently flouted it. Delvin, however, H did Hot view it in this light; for, although the bishop would - fain persuade him that Nugent’s threats were not to be heeded, the baron submitted to the primate’s counsels, and affected to join the other lords of the Pale, if we may credit a contem- porary narrative of one intimately acquainted with all the events 178 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN of the period.* The immediate consequence of Delvin’s pre¬ tended adhesion was an interruption of the friendship that had so long subsisted between him and Dease, who then betook himself to his mansion of Turbotston, where he resided many years afterwards, apparently indifferent to the movement which was then agitating the whole island. Meanwhile archbishop O’Reilly had the satisfaction of seeing the confederacy strong and prosperous, supported by a small fleet of its own, a strong army, commanded by Irish generals who had distinguished themselves abroad, and the sympathy of the pope and other continental Catholic powers. In his capacity of spiritual peer he occasionally took part in the debates of the supreme council at Kilkenny, where he signed various commis¬ sions, and discharged other duties of his position. His diocese, however, engrossed most of his care, for he flattered himself that the organization, which was the work of his own brain, would eventually realize his highest hopes, and leave him free to superintend his spiritual charge, without involving him in political broils. But in this he was mistaken, for soon after the arrival of the nunzio, he began to discover that the chief lay members of the supreme council had taken upon them, by virtue of some ancient privilege of the English crown in Catholic times, to nominate bishops to the vacant Irish sees, without consulting him or asking his sanction. This assumption he de¬ precated in personal interviews with the nunzio, as well as in letters to that personage; but the latter, while ignoring any right of the supreme council to interfere in such matters, under¬ took the whole trouble of reporting to Rome on the comparative merits of the bishops-designate. There can be no doubt that O’Reilly approved the nunzio’s general policy, and regarded it in every sense as most likely to remedy the many grievances which weighed so heavily on the Irish Catholics, and for the removal of which they were now in arms. Owen O’Keill was the nunzio’s favourite general, and this celebrated soldier was O’Reilly’s kinsman. The Ulster forces! were the staunchest * Apborismical Discovery of Faction. t “The Ulster troops,” says the nunzio, “ accustomed to hardship and the cold of the north, require very little for their comfort; not caring for bread, they live on butter and trefoil; they drink milk, and have special liking for eau-de-vie {aquavitce) ; provided they have shoes and a few utensils, they deem a woollen mantle sufl&cient covering for them; they rarely touch money, and are far more careful of their sword and musket than of their bodies.”—Nunziatura, p. 399. Elsewhere he tells us that Owen Roe’s soldiers were good Catholics, but uncouth. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 179 of Hiiiuccini’s adherents, and we need hardly say that the ma¬ jority of them were recruited within the immediate jurisdiction of the primacy, on the hills and in the glens of Tyrone, where the traditions of Hugh O’Neill’s victories were not yet "half a century old. In a word, the brain and muscle on which the nunzio built all his hopes of success belonged to the northern province, and decidedly the most influential and energetic man there at that period was the archbishop of Armagh. His own immediate relatives, and the followers of his ancient house, held high command and served in the confederate ranks, and so great was the reliance of the Catholics on their valour and fidelity, that when Malmorra, surnamed the Slasher, was slain on the bridge of Fenagh, near Granard, m an encounter with the Scotch covenanters, his kinsmen carried his corpse to the old burying- place, in the Franciscan convent of Cavan, and there raised a monument, with an epitaph which dolorously set forth that Ireland lay vanquished in the same grave with him— “ LECTOR . NE . CREDAS . SOLUM . PERUSE . MILONEM . HOC . NAM . SUB . TUMULO . PATRIA . VICTA . JACET .” It is almost superfluous to add, that at Benburb the O’Beillys were in the forefront of that memorable battle, and that Philip O’Beilly, Owen O’Neill’s brother-in-law, and kins¬ man to the archbishop, with his followers, helped to achieve a victory unparalleled since the days of the “ Great Hugh,” Owen’s uncle—a victory, indeed, which, for a while, made the nunzio fancy that the object of his mission was accomplished, and established between him and the archbishop a reciprocal friendship that outlived hopes, reverses, and terrible disasters. There is, however, another aspect of the archbishop’s char¬ acter, which shall evermore command the admiration of the Irish student, scholar, priest, and layman. We mean his patronage and encouragement of Colgan, the poor Franciscan of Inishowen, who, in Louvain, at his instance, commenced and completed the ‘‘ Acta Sanctorum Hibernise ”—a work which will perpetuate the name of the author and his patron as long as men value great genius and profound literary research. Gracefully, indeed, has Colgan acknowledged his obligations to the archbishop, for he tells us that, “ he cheered him on in his undertaking, and secured for him the sympathy and aid of his suffragans.” Colgan and his community were poor, and had not wherewithal to print the noble tome; but O’Beilly, in order to eternise the fame of the Irish saints, erave, out of his 180 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN scant revenue, moneys for the publication, and had the happiness | of seeing it inscribed with his own name. May we not imagine | with what gratification he perused those pages in which Colgan | so elegantly alludes to his princely origin; the renown of his | ancestors in ancient times ; their prowess in the battlefield ; 1 their munificence to church and cloister; his own promotion to his native see of Kilmore; his elevation to the primacy, and \ the hereditary valour of his kinsmen, who, worthy of their sires, were then in arms for religion, king, and country. This, ' indeed, was a patent of intellectual nobility which no monarch could confer.* ^ Reluctant to take any part in the debates of the supreme council at Kilkenny, now that the nunzio was there with his • paramount authority, O’Reilly devoted himself wholly to his t diocese, from which the Scotch covenanters had fled to the sea- * board, after the victory of Benburb. In fact, his see had ^ greater attractions for him than the assemblage place of the i spiritual peers, and he does not appear to have concerned him- ■ self with the proceedings of the latter, till the clergy rejected ' Ormond’s thirty articles, at Waterford, in 1646, when he sent * Edmond O’Teague, with full powers to act as his proctor, and subscribe the declaration by which the viceroy’s treaty was , pronounced worse than useless. Thenceforth, that is till 1648, : he seems to have been nothing more than a spectator of the * events which crowded so alternatingly in that interval. In- ] telligence of the schism in the confederate council reached him from afar. The only incident that could mitigate such calamity ’ was the success that attended the arms of his kinsman, O’Keill, ^ who, at the nunzio’s summons, marched rapidly from Connaught into Leinster, and after beating Inchiquin and the parliament general, Jones, saved Kilkenny for the Catholics. These, how- i ever, were but momentary triumphs, valueless in their results, and nowise compensating the division and discord that were fast breaking up the grand organization on which he had cal¬ culated so hopefully, but, alas ! so falsely. Let us now leave him for a while, and resume our notice of Lease. Inflexible in his egotism, this prelate kept aloof from the general movement, calmly watching passing events, governing his diocese under peculiar disadvantages, and looking to the goodly estate which he had inlierited. In this comparative isolation he had grown very old and feeble; so much so, that in 1646 the nunzio wrote to Rome, that he was at the point * See Appendix E e. I.' THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 181 I 1 ■ of death, and that he, Dease, was anxious that his nephew, ! Oliver, should be appointed coadjutor in the see of Meath. - The nnnzio’s forebodings, however, were not realized; for, six I months after the date of that letter, he and the bishop were at - variance about an appointment which the latter had made to the ancient monastery of Tristernagh. Dease collated one Gerald Tuite to the priory ; but the nunzio, acting under in- t structions from Rome, resolved that that person should be ' removed, to make way for father Andrew Nugent, a canon < regular of St. Augustine, to which order the place belonged before the suppression of religious houses. This, however, was , but a trifle compared with the charge which the nunzio laid at Dease’s door, alleging that he and the bishop of Dromore had 1 blown the coals of enmity between generals O’Neill and Preston, I and so inflamed the mutual dislike of both, that Dublin was lost to the confederates by their antipathies. Two years afterwards, that is in 1648, Dease grew more feeble I and made his will. Hearing that he was beyond all hope of re¬ covery the nunzio, anticipating his dissolution, wrote to Rome— ‘‘The bishop of Meath died in his eightieth year, to the great ad¬ vantage of this kingdom ; for he was a man who held opinions little short of heretical; and old as he was, I was obliged to threaten him with a citation to the holy see.”* But, in about a month after the despatch of this angry missive, he discovered that he had been misinformed, and he thereon again wrote to Rome—“ The bishop of Meath is not dead, but has been spared to try the patience of the good ! ” Dease, indeed, did recover, and when grown convalescent, proved himself more than ever contumacious to the nunzio. Oliver Dease, his nephew, it is true, subscribed the rejection of Ormond’s peace, in 1646 ; but as for the bishop, his name does not appear in the proceedings of the confederates till the nunzio published sentence of excom¬ munication against all supporters of Inchiquin’s treaty, in • 1648. Foremost among the prelates who stood by that fatal measure was the archbishop of Armagh; but of all those who ' maintained that it was uncalled for, and ruinous to the common interest, none was more demonstrative than the bishop of I Meath. With the nunzio were Owen O’Neill and his Ulster army, and arrayed against both were Preston and his Leinster ^ * The nunzio regarded Dease as a political heretic, because the latter ] dissented from his views and clung to the doctrine of expediency; hut 1 as there was nothing to justify even a suspicion of the bishop’s ortho- I doxy, we may attribute the harsh tone of the nunzio’s letter to an ebul- ^ lition of temper, to which good men are sometimes prone. 182 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN compeers with their forces. It was, in sooth, a sad battle ; for on the same field were now arrayed against each other soldiers and theologians, the cope against the cnirass ; the spiritual against the carnal weapon ! No sooner, however, had the fore- said sentence appeared, than the party of the supreme council opposed to the nunzio drew up seven queries, touching the validity of the censures, and submitted them to Kothe, bishop of Ossory, that he might pronounce upon same, for quieting of their conscience and preservation of the commonweal. Kothe thereon returned his celebrated answer to said queries, and satisfied the opposition that the nunzio was in the wrong, and had exceeded his powers. But in order that nothing should be wanting to confirm this pronouncement, Bothe submitted his decision to Dease, who, after maturely weighing all the arguments and objections advanced by his friend, signed a public instrument, in which he declared that the nunzio’s ex- communication Avas null and void, natura sua, as well as by reason of the appeal which had been forwarded to Borne. In a word, Dease treated the nunzio’s sentence with disrespect, and decided that Ossory’s “Answers” should be luiblished, “as conducive to the interests of the crown, and inculcating true allegiance to the civil government, according to the laAvs of God and his Church.” In this conflict of opinions and arms the year 1648 wore out, and in February of the following year the nunzio set sail from Ireland, leaving behind him a people whose utter want of cohesion was soon to involve them in awful ruin. To avert the latter, Ormond had been recalled to take the reins of govern¬ ment in Ireland ; and nine bishops, trusting to his promise of protection for religion, life, and estate, issued circular letters to their respective dioceses, exhorting the people to support the viceroy, who, to use their own language, was sure to win “the green laurel of peace,” and triumph over the Cromwellians. De Burgh, archbishop of Tuam, was at the head of this party, and Dease, among others, folloAved that dignitary’s guidance. The primate, we need hardly say, objected to these proceed¬ ings, and kept himself apart from the bishops who had gone over to Ormond, and made light of the nunzio’s commands. But a bitterer and heavier affliction than their defection had come upon him in the midst of this turmoil; for on the 6th of November, 1649, Owen O’Neill* died in the castle of Philip O’Beilly, at Cloughouter; where, in the words of his secretary, * See Appendix F/. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 183 ‘‘ lie resigned liis soul to God, a true child of the Catholic re¬ ligion, in full sense and memory, many of both secular and regular clergy assisting him in such a doubtful transit.” As soon, however, as the primate had bestowed the last honours on the great soldier, and seen him laid in the cemetery of the Franciscan monastery of Cavan, he hastened to Clonmacnoise, to preside at a synod of nineteen prelates, assembled under the shadow of those venerable ruins, when he subscribed a proclama¬ tion beseeching the Irish people to unite for the preservation of their religion, king, and country. But such appeals to patriotism and loyalty were of little avail ; for Cromwell had already won Dublin, Drogheda, Wexford, and other great ad¬ vantages. Withal, the archbishop, hoping against hope, presided at other synods, convened for the same purpose, at Loughreagh and in Jamestown in 1650; and in the last of these he was appointed one of the commissioners who undertook to make a final effort for religion, king, and country. The prelates with whom he acted had selected Galway as the safest place for their deliberations, and he remained there for a brief space, taking part in the councils of his colleagues, who now saw no remedy for Ireland except the protectorate so generously offered by the Catholic duke of Lorraine, and which, we need hardly observe, was repudiated by the advisers of Charles the second, who would sooner see Cromwell master of the whole island than that any Catholic potentate should advance his standard there. Hav¬ ing set this negotiation on foot, the primate empowered O’Cullenan, bishop of Baphoe, to sign for him as his proctor, and then took his departure for Trinity Island, in Lough Erne, where, after closing a life of saddest reverses, he resigned his soul to God, A.D. 1652, in the seventy-seventh year of his age. Some generous friends, who consoled his last moments, thought it pity to leave his remains far away from the old Franciscan monastery of Cavan, and they accordingly had them removed unostentatiously, and interred in the same grave with Owen O’ISreill and Miles the “ Slasher.” Surely it was a holy thought to lay the bones of so a true a prelate in the same loam with the great chieftains of his own race and kindred ! One year before O’Beilly’s decease, Dease passed away* tran¬ quilly in the Jesuits’ house at Galway, for he had fled to that city thinking that his friend and henchman. General Preston, would be able to hold it against the parliament. Fully satisfied with his past political life, he declared in his last moments that he * See Appendix G 184 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN’ Iiad nothing to regret or retract; and thus he left this life, after having received the last sacraments, and made his ’will, in which he provided for the future wants of his diocese by leaving money for the education of clerics, or, as he calls them, “churchmen,’^ who, it would appear, were to be members of his own ancient house. Whatever his errors may have been, there can be no doubt that he was a learned and zealous pastor, and those who differed with and survived him had reason to admit that his application of the gospel parable was not altogther mistaken. His remains, followed by the Jesuits, to whom he was a bene¬ factor, were interred under the threshold of the sacristy of the collegiate church of St. Nicholas, Galway, where his friend and admirer, sir Richard Belling, raised to his memory a monu¬ ment, for which he composed the following ej)itaph :— IN . LACHRYMAS . OCULOS . HIBERNIA . SOLVE . CADATQUE . UJEC . HECATOMBE . SUPER . PR^SULIS . OSSA . TUI . HIC . PIUS . HIC . PRUDENS . REGI . SUA . JURA . DEOQUE . REDDERE . CALLEBAT . DOCTUS . UTROQUE . FORO . BELLA . FIDEM . REGNUM . CCECO . DISCRIMINE . CUNCTA . MISCEBANT . FIXA . SED . STETIT . ILLA . PETRA . LCETA . ILLI . GRAVITAS . ET . MENTIS . AMABILE . PONDUS . ELOQUIO . DULCIS . GRANDIS . ET . INGENIO . INTERNE . VULTUS . RUTILABAT . GRATIA . FLAMMiE . ILLI . ARDENS . ZELUS . SED . RATIONE . SAGAX . EXTRA . TALIS . ERAT . LUBERET . PENETRARE . SED INTUS .* OCCURRET . SERAPHIM . COR . IN . IGNE . MICANS . TANTA . ILLI . CAST^ . SEMPER . CUSTODIA . MENTIS . UT . LIBARE . DEO . PROMPTUS . UBIQUE . FORET . SI . FLETU . POSSET . REVOCARI . TALIS . IN . AURAS . PR^SUL . IN . STERNUM . LUMEN . UTRU3IQUE . FLERET.” CHAPTEB VI. About the close of November, 1645, Binuccini was received at St. Patrick’s gate, Kilkenny, with all the honours due to so high and puissant a personage as the nunzio extraordinary accre¬ dited by the holy see to the confederate Catholics of Ireland.* The clergy, secular and regular, awaited his coming in and * For an account of the nunzio’s journey from Kenmare to Limerick, and thence to Kilkenny, see Appendix H h. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUEY. 185 about the gate of St. Patrick, and as soon as he passed under its arch, he mounted a richly-caparisoned horse, and proceeded towards the ancient cathedral of St, Canice, escorted by the municipal and military authorities. It was a wet and dismal day, the like of which the Italian had never perhaps seen in his own bright land, but notwithstanding the rain, that fell in torrents, all Kilkenny was astir, and thousands of the peasantry had gathered within the walls to witness the showy pageant. Pour citizens, bareheaded, upheld the shafts of a rich canopy, to protect the nunzio from the rain, and as soon as he came in front of the market cross, the procession halted, while a young student read a Latin oration, extolling the goodness of Pope Innocent X,, and welcoming his minister to the chief city of the confederates. To this greeting the nunzio replied in the language of the address, thanking the citizens for the cordial reception they had accorded him, lauding their devotedness to the holy see, and invoking heaven’s blessing on their struggle for religion, king, and country. His words on this occasion were few, but spoken with all the fervid animation so peculiar to Italians, and in the rich, sonorous cadences which characterise their pronunciation of Latin. As soon as he had concluded, the procession resumed its route without halting again till it reached the great gate of St. Canice’s, where David Pothe, bishop of Ossory, surrounded by all the minor officers of his cathedral, some bearing lighted torches, others incense and holy water, stood waiting the arrival of the nunzio.^ After mutual saluta¬ tion the bishop handed him the aspersorium and incense; and then they both proceeded to the grand altar, from which, after the prayers prescribed for such occasions had been said, the nunzio gave solemn benediction to the vast multitude that crowded the nave and aisles of the holy edifice. Thus met for the first time, on the threshold and altar-steps of St. Canice’s, Pothe and Pinuccini, the one a feeble old man, in the seventy- third year of his age, and twenty-seventh of his episcopacy, spent by marvellous literary toil and incredible hardships j and the other, his junior by some twenty years, hale and fresh from his archiepiscopal principality of Permo, and knowing nothing of persecution for religion’s sake, save what he had learned of it in the Martyrology, or from the glowing freschi that deco¬ rated the walls of Italian churches. Could it have occurred to either of these high dignitaries that they were one day to part irreconcileable opponents, and that the point of divergence for See Appendix I i. 186 THE IRISH HIERACRHY IH both was to be that very altar at whose foot they now knelt together, thanking God for favours given, and supplicating him to send the spirit of peace and concord into the hearts and councils of the half-emancipated Irish Catholics 1 Some there were, indeed, witnesses of this function, who augured little good could accrue to Ireland from the presence and overbearing in¬ fluence of the Florentine patrician-prelate at such a crisis in their country’s destiny; but there were many who believed that he, and he alone, had the wisdom that could save the people from ruin ; and so thoroughly were they convinced of this, that, when all was lost, they attributed failure and defeat to the obstinacy of those who slighted his advice and repudiated his policy. The bishop of Ossory, however, far from sharing the sentiments of the latter, entertained views totally different, and lived long enough to see the metropolis of his diocese surrendered to Cromwell; but not long enough, unfortunately, to add to his published works a fair and impartial statement of the causes that brought about such a terrible and irretrievable calamity. The family from which this j)relate descended was one of respectable antiquity in the city of Kilkenny, where they held the position of opulent merchants early in the fifteenth century, and for many generations afterwards. Indeed, it is likely enough that the first of them came to Kilkenny with the first of the Butlers, and established himself under the protection of that puissant lord ; but be that as it may, there is evidence to show that his descendants were ever faithful and devoted re¬ tainers of the great house of Ormond.* David, whose works were destined to elevate and perpetuate the name of his pro¬ genitors and kindred, and whose chequered life—extending over so considerable a portion of the first half the seventeenth century, would be sufficient to interest us without his celebrity as a writer—was born in Kilkenny, in 1572, a year memorable in Irish annals for the stout resistance of the Geraldines in the south, and the De Burgos in the western province, to Perrot, Fitton, and other armed preachers of the so-styled reformation. David and his brother Edward, sole survivors of eight chil¬ dren, were left orphans when very young ; but owing to the thrifty management of their guardians, they were amply pro¬ vided for on reaching man’s estate. Edward devoted himself to commercial pursuits, and David resolved to embrace the * Like Lease, Eothe is described in a memorandum to the Curia Eo- mana as educated in France and Flanders and having French and Eng¬ lish proclivities—“ Erga Gallos et Anglos valde affectus.” THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 187 ^ ecclesiastical profession. There can be little donbt that the I latter received the earliest rudiments of education in his I native city ; and it is quite certain that he repaired to the j college of Douay for the study of G-reek and philosophy. I Having distinguished himself there, he removed to Salamanca, , where, on attaining canonical age, he was ordained priest, j after being promoted to the degree of doctor in civil and canon " law, and acquiring a thorough knowledge of the Spanish lan¬ guage. It would appear that he tarried a long time abroad, ' and visited Home, for, if we may credit a brief notice of him, written by the celebrated John Lynch, he did not return to < Ireland till 1610, when he had completed his thirty-eighth year. Long, however, before he set out on his homeward I journey, the fame of his prudence and extensive acquirements had reached the ears of Paul V., who, at the suggestion of Mafleo Barberini, appointed him prothonotary-apostolic, vicar- general of Armagh, in the absence of Peter Lombard, then an j exile at Pome where he lived on the bounty of the pope, and, furthermore, empowered him to arbitrate summarily on certain I non-dogmatic subjects, concerning which the Irish clergy, regu- j lar and secular, were then at variance. Honoured with such signal proofs of the pope’s esteem, Pothe reached Kilkenny, just three years after the memorable flight of the earls, the apprehension of whose return with an invading force, gave sir Arthur Chichester, then lord deputy, so many plausible pretexts for persecuting the Catholics, and their dignitaries especially, who were regarded as emissaries sent by Pome to stimulate disloyalty and rebellion in Ireland. - How disguised, or from which of the Irish ports Pothe made his way to his native city has not transpired, but, doubtless, he must have been aided by more than ordinarily favourable circumstances in eluding the keen vigilance of the deputy, who I knew well that he stood high in the good graces of Paul V. At the period of Pothe’s arrival, the see of Ossory was vacant, ! for Strong, its late bishop, banned and exiled from Ireland for ' his devotedness to the apostolic faith, had died in Compostella, and as it were, to heighten the misery of the people thus de- I prived of their chief pastor, sir Arthur Chichester was carrying [ out the iniquitous policy of James I., hunting down the “papists,” I enriching himself with their conflscated lands, and scattering, at the sword’s point, whenever he found it safe to do so, the con¬ gregations assembled at the celebration of Mass. Kilkenny was more than once the scene of these flagrant outrages ; but, happily for the citizens, the house of Ormond had not yet 188 THE lEISH HIERAECHY IN entirely apostatized, and many of its members still adhered to the ancient religion, and protected its worshippers. Rothe, we need hardly say, was kindly regarded by lord Mountgarret and Richard Butler, both sincere Catholics, and their interposition enabled him to live in comparative ease, and to discharge, though with greatest circumspection, the onerous duties of his calling. Zealous in the fulfilment of all priestly offices, and labouring earnestly for the spiritual welfare of the faithful of Kilkenny, he, at the same time, was an attentive observer of passing events, and took special care to note down all the atrocities which Chichester was perpetrating on the oppressed and plundered Catholics. It was in the very year of Rofche’s return to Ireland that O’Deveny, bishop of Down and Connor, was committed prisoner to Dublin castle ; and, although the latter was guarded with lynx-eyed vigilance while waiting the mockery of trial, Rothe, nevertheless, contrived to maintain a secret correspondence with him, and to obtain from him some valuable notices which he had Avritten of those Irish archbishops, bishops, priests, and laymen, who were either exe¬ cuted or outlawed during: the reiffii of Elizabeth, on fictitious charges of high treason, but in reality for refusing to take the oath of supremacy. These notices, or, as the bishop of Down styled them, “ Index Martyrialis,” suggested to Rothe the idea of a grand work on that terrible persecution, and he at once set about compiling it from the fragments which had thus luckily come into his hands, and also from the oral testimony of many then living, who had a vivid recollection of each and every one of those who figured prominently, the persecutor and the per¬ secuted, in that bloody, yet glorious, drama. While actively engaged on this remarkable undertaking, he received letters from the holy see, commending his zeal and prudence, and con¬ stituting him arbitrator between O’Kearney, archbishop of Cashel, and Paul Ragget, prior of the Cistercian monastery of Holy Cross, who were at issue on some points of privilege, and had frequently appealed to Rome for the settlement of their pretensions. Rothe, however, reconciled the litigants, and so pleased were Mafieo Barberini and cardinal Yeralli, protector of Ireland, with the tact and address he exhibited in dealing with a matter requiring so much moderation and judgment, that they both wrote to congratulate him on the result, signifying at the same time that the pope had been fully informed of his efficiency and discrimination. It is almost unnecessary to ob¬ serve, that his conduct on this occasion secured for him at Rome two most powerful patrons, one of whom, Barberini, was a dis- THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 189 ' tingiiished poet and generous patron of literary men, and after¬ wards ascended the Papal throne as Urban VIIT. We have already alluded to the work which Pothe projected with a view to perpetuate the names of the distinguished men who suffered for religion during Elizabeth’s reign ; but it would appear that long before applying himself to that most impor¬ tant undertaking, he had commenced to write an ecclesiastical history of Ireland, from the first introduction of Christianity down to his own times, taking in all those stirring events in which he himself was destined to figure so conspicuously. That he did not contemplate the publication of this work during his own lifetime is quite certain, for we are informed by one of his most intimate friends, that he devoted fifty years to its compilation, and left it ready for the press some few months before his death. Of its ultimate fate we will have occasion to speak hereafter. Another work of kindred character to which he gave many of his leisure hours was that which he styled Hierographia Sacra Hibernioe,” or a general ecclesiastical survey of Ireland, commencing with the history of Kilkenny, and comprising notices of Irish saints, cathedrals, shrines, dioceses, places of pilgrimage, anchorets, early seats of learning, holy wells, rural deaneries—in a word, a series of essays on Irish arch^ologvy the great value of which is apparent from the few fragments that have been preserved through the agency of transcribers. That Eothe did not intend the Hierographia ” should be a posthumous production there can be no doubt, for after labour¬ ing at it in a desultory manner for nearly twenty-one years, he placed the introductory portion of it in the hands of a Water¬ ford printer, with a view to its publication, but owing probably to the turbulence of the times, it was not destined to issue from the press. Peveiling to the remarkable work, which we have already stated was suggested by O’Deveny’s memoranda, and which Eothe published under the title of “ Analecta ” (Collections), and the jyseudonym “T. IST. Philadelphus,” the reader should know that he divided it into three parts, each of which has a special scope. In the first, he describes the terrible sufferings to which the Catholics were subjected during six months of Chichester’s deputyship. The second he evidently meant for an exhortation to martyrdom, for it is addressed to those who were either already marked out for that ordeal, or might, per¬ haps, have to confess their faith in the face of persecution; and the third, and by far the most important part, he devoted to 190 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN the history and vindication of those distinguished members of the Irish hierarchy, clergy, and laity, who suJBfered for religion on the scaffold, in the dungeon, or in exile, during the reign of Elizabeth, and that of Janies I. There is some difficulty about fixing the exact time when the two first ijarts of the “Analecta” were published; but as Eothe dedicated them to O’Deveny, who was executed in 1611, it is probable that these parts were either going through the press, or had already appeared some time antecedently to the bishop’s demise. Indeed, there can hardly be any doubt on this subject; for the title of the copy published in 1617 sets forth that it was a second edition, en¬ larged and illustrated with notes; and AVare, whose authority on such matters is paramount, says that “ it was formerly printed,” thus intimating that there must have been another and still earlier issue of the same work. Our motive in dwel¬ ling at such length on this particular is to enable the reader to form some idea of the'earnestness with which Rothe applied himself to his task, and to show how energetically he laboured at it, in the midst of multiplied dangers, and the incessant duties of the priesthood, which, in those evil times, afforded little or no opportunity for the amenities of literature. As for the third part of the “ Analecta,” which deserves a more special notice, we will have occasion to speak of it hereafter. Meanwhile, Rothe had the satisfaction of receiving from cardinal Yeralli various letters, in which the latter signified to him that the holy see was highly pleased with his conduct as vicar-general of Armagh; and still more so, if possible, with the prudence and zeal he exhibited as prothonotary-apostolic in his own native diocese, where, owing to his firmness and moderation, the clergy, secular and regular, worked together in harmony, and renounced those foolish rivalries and divergences which had hitherto been productive of many lamentable results. Constant and indefatigable in the discharge of all sacred duties, and always acting with gravest circumspection, it was his good fortune to elude the toils which were spread for him by the spies and delators of the lord deputy, who did not deem it politic to offend such personages as Mountgarret and Richard Butler, by laying violent hands on one whom they esteemed so much and so deservedly. Towards the close of 1615, Chichester was recalled, and the king appointed, as his successor, Oliver St. John, subsequently viscount Grandison, who had special charge to enforce the oath of supremacy and attendance of “ Recusants ” in the Protest¬ ant churches, under pain of imprisonment or heavy fines. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 191 Cliicliester, it is true, had already been instrumental in canyino' ^ out similar instructions ; but being mainly intent on enricliino- I himself, he was less fanatical than his successor, who, some i; days before his installation, declared in the hearing of many, that in the course of a few years he would not leave a single “papist” in Ireland. Doubtless he meant what he said; for , within six months after his accession to office, the prisons of l: Dublin and those of the provincial towns were overcrowded ri with Catholics, who either refused to swear the oath of suprem- I acy, or were too poor to pay the fine which was levied on all i those who absented themselves from the schismatical service. ! As it is not our province to enter into a detail of the hardships which the Catholics had to bear during Oliver St. John’s deputy- , ship, we will merely observe that that personage was not j exceeded by any of his predecessors in bigotry, intolerance, ,! and utter disregard of all forms of justice. Dothe, it would i appear, had the manliness to protest against the iniquitous I conduct of the vice-regal agents in Kilkenny, where the crafts- 1 man was often obliged to forsake Ids work to esca])e the collectors of the non-attendance fine; and where a crowd could rarely assemble to extinguish the fires, which, it seems, were then of frequent occurrence in that city, without having their charitable labours interrupted by the gatherers of the odious impost, whom the Irish “papists” regarded as worse than the publicans denounced in the Gospels. Finding, however, that this remon¬ strance was of no avail, Kothe published in English and Spanish a lengthened statement of the deputy’s cruel oppression of the Irish Catholics, in the hope, we may presume, of enlisting the sympathy of their English co-religionists; or what was of greater moment, the merciful interposition of Spain or some other Catholic continental power. We will not venture to assert that king James was at all influenced by this bold denimciation of his deputy; but it is certain that the latter ^ received fresh instructions, in which he was charged to deal more leniently with the poorer order of the Catholics, and to reserve all his higher powers for the extirpation, if possible, of their bishops and other dignitaries. The king, indeed, was constantly haunted by the dread of an Irish insurrection, which ( might be aided from abroad, and this show of affected clemency was probably suggested by that apprehension. The deputy ’ was well aware of his master’s motives, and he consequently pursued the line of conduct which he knew would be sure to please him. Thenceforth the oath of supremacy was not so generally demanded of “ Eecusants,” the poorer classes of |i 192 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN whom were treated with indifference or forbearance. The fines for non-compliance with the act of conformity were not so fre¬ quently levied, and the Mass-houses, as they were contemp¬ tuously styled by hypocrites and knaves of high and low degree, were seldom visited by those unbelieving ruffians, who, in their affected zeal, deemed it nowise dishonest to pillage an altar, or to slay, if they were so minded, the worshippers who knelt in its shadow. This clemency, however, was not extended to popish bishops and other dignitaries of the church; and as Kothe belonged to the latter category, and had incurred the deputy’s marked displeasure, his friends counselled him to remove to France till some new phase of European politics^ might induce the king to deal more favourably with the Irish Catholics. It is not in our power to fix the exact time of Eothe’s depar¬ ture from Ireland; but it would a^^pear that he was in Paris towards the close of 1617, and that he brought with him those unfinished works on which he had been labouring so long and indefatigably, with a view of continuing them in his tranquil retirement. On reaching the French capital, where he was hospitably entertained by a wealthy citizen named Escalopier, he was induced to preach the panegyric of St. Brigid, and so eloquently and learnedly did he acquit himself, that his gene¬ rous patron requested him to give a Latin version of the discourse, enlarged and amply annotated. To this he willingly consented; but as he was actively engaged in completing the third part of the ‘‘Analecta,” the former did not appear till after Escalopier’s death, when he dedicated it to^ his sons, Baymond and Balthazzar, as a grateful tribute to the memory of their father. In the same city he met a kindred spirit, Messingham, rector of the Irish college, who was then compiling the work known as “ Florilegium Insul® Sanctorum,” or Garland of Irish saints ; and at the request of that author he contributed the disserta¬ tion “ Be Nominibus Hibernite,” to prove that Ireland was called Scotia, and the Irish Scoti, or Scots, from the fourth to the thirteenth century. To his learned liberality Messingham was also indebted for the Elucidations to Jocelin’s “ Life of St. Patrick,” which were also inserted in the Florilegium, and gracefully acknowledged by the editor, who tells us that Bothe “ was thoroughly familiar with every department of knowledge, an eloquent orator, acute reasoner, profound theologian, sharp reprover of vice, defender of ecclesiastical liberty, vindicator of his country’s rights, and faithful exponent of her terrible wi oiigs.” THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 193 ^ While thus engaged earning for himself a celebrity that raised him so far above the level of his Irish contemporaries, Paul W, at the instance of Cardinal V^eralli, and in considera- . tion of the eminent services he had rendered to religion as a I missionary priest and cultivator of literature, resolved to pro- mote him to the vacant see of Ossory. The pope’s announce- ; ment was made in a consistory held in October, 1618, and in the course of a few months afterwards Pothe was duly conse- i crated at Paris, just as he had entered on the forty-sixth year of * his age. There can hardly be any doubt that he returned to Ireland , immediately after his elevation to the episcopacy, for, if we , may rely on a memorandum of the “ popish clergy,” which was t presented to the government in 1618, Pothe was then in Kil- I kenny, in the capacity of “ titular bishop,” often staying with ■' his brother Edward in the family mansion, and occasionally I with lord Mountgarret, in that nobleman’s palace at Balline. j Friends and protectors he had many, but it is quite apparent I that the Irish executive kept strict watch on his movements, i and was well aware of his haunts and harbourers. i The dignity, too, to which he was so deservedly raised, ex- ; posed him to greater risks than any he could have encountered while acting as a simple missionary priest, and discharging the duties of vicar-general of Armagh ; but his prudence and circumspection, to say nothing of the patronage of the Catholic members of the house of Ormond, enabled him to live in com¬ parative tranquillity, and to perform unostentatiously the various functions of his episcopal office. In fact, we may regard him as filling at the same time two bishoprics ; for, along with his own see of Ossory, he had also to govern that of Armagh, in the capacity of vice-jDrimate to Peter Lombard. In managing the affairs of the primatial see, however, he was efficiently aided by Balthazzar Delahyde, whom he appointed vicar-general, I and, notwithstanding the compulsory absence of the learned Lombard, so often denounced by the English cabinet, the perse¬ cuted and plundered Catholics of Ulster were taught to cling with unchanging fidelity to the creed of their forefathers. ^ Within the limits of his own immediate jurisdiction Pothe exerted himself unsparingly, correcting abuses prevalent among , clergy and laity, exhorting the former to prove themselves men of zeal and learning, fit to guide their fiocks by word and ex¬ ample j and visiting with condign punishment the few of the j See ApjDendix J j. 194 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN latter, who, through apprehension of loss or love of gain had fallen away from the faith, and died in apostasy and final impe¬ nitence. To such he not only interdicted the rites of Christian sepulture, but even interment in the cemeteries of his diocese, in order that the wavering and dissolute might have timely warning, and be inspired with a salutary dread of an unhallowed grave, for whose tenant it would be impiety to shed a tear or say a prayer.* In the midst of the multiplied cares and responsibilities which had now devolved on him, Hothe, far from discontinuing his literary labours, toiled, it would seem still more energeti¬ cally and rapidly at his favourite pursuit; so much so, that in the course of two years after his installation, he had the satis¬ faction of completing three volumes, all of which prove that he was a man of singular industry and great critical ability. In 1619 he gave to the world the third part of the Analecta, and in designating this the most important of Hothe’s published works, we do not exaggerate its value; for indeed, nothing could be more painfully circumstantial or historically accurate than the memoirs it contains of Creagh, archbishop of Armagh, O’Hurly, archbishop of Cashel, O’Hirlathy, bishop of Ross, and O’Deveny, of Down and Connor, all of whom, with one excep¬ tion, were put to death for religion. The importance of this production was, if possible, heightened by the appendix he added to it, under the title of “ Diasphendon Hiberniae,” or, in other words, the Dismemberment of Ireland, in which he likens the condition of the Catholic church to that of a human body bound between two trees brought forcibly in contact, and rent asunder by violent resilience. This strange title was suggested by a passage in Livius Florus, and Rothe employed the figure of the two trees to represent the pressure of the two acts of parliament, respecting the oath of sujiremacy and liturgical conformity. As we will have occasion to revert to this work, we cannot dismiss this brief notice of it without mentioning that both volumes of the “ Analecta” were published at the ex¬ pense of lord Mountgarret. The volume on St. Brigid, with its exhortation to martyrdom, addressed to Irish students then in ecclesiastical seminaries, and its strictures on Dempster’s misrepresentations, appeared, as we have already stated, at Paris, in 1620 ; and in the year immediately following, he published simultaneously at Rouen and Cologne, the work entitled “Hibernia Resurgens,” or * See Appendix K Jc. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 195 “ Preservative against the bite of the old Serpent,” in which he exposes the fallacies and plagiarisms of Dempster, the celebrated Scotch i^ilologist, who strove to rob Ireland of her earlv saints by making them denizens of his own country. This latter work apj)eared under the pseudonym of Donatus Roirk. Having now laid before the reader a list of Eothe’s published woiks, It IS necessary to observe that the ‘‘Analecta/’ the |toird part of it especially, was impugned, in 1624, bv sir Thomas Ryves, in his book, entitled, “ Regiminis Anglicani Defensio, and also by HaiTis, in his “Writers of Ireland,” both ot whom charge Rothe with having misrepresented the cha¬ racters and motives of those distinguished ecclesiastics and lav- men who were put to death in the reign of Elizabeth and Jami 1. Rothe asserts that they were martyrs to their faith, which they sealed _ with their blood, ' and Ryves, Harris, and Cox would have it ^ipear that they one and all were executed for igh treason. Rothe wrote a reply to Ryves, but, unfortunately It remained unpublished, and shared the fate of his other manu- ^ripts. Nevertheless, the gratuitous statements of Rvves and Harris are amply refuted in the “ Analecta,” and more so if possible. 111 the official documents relating to those victims' of intolerance and bigotry which have recently come to light from the otate Raper and other public repositories. Had Eyves and Harris taken the trouble to look into those historic records, it is possible that neither of them would have been so dishonest as to attempt to justify the slaughter of in¬ nocent men, by charging them with treason, of which no triDunal, having the fear of God before its eyes, could have convicted a single one of them. Who, for example, could have been more loyal to queen Elizabeth than the unfortunate treagh, archbishop of Armagh, or who could have done more to curb the wild impetuosity of Shane O’Neill than he did % In tact, Creagh’s letter from his prison in the tower of London to He lords of the privy council, shows that he regarded Ulster as a baHarous country," and that he did not hesitate to de¬ nounce Shane O Neill to his face in the cathedral of Armagh and by doing so incurred the hostility of that proud chieftain’ who hve days afterwards set fire to the venerable edifice and burnt It to the ground. But Shane’s threats and incendiarism coiild not shake Creagh’s allegiance to his “ natural princess ” as be styles queen Elizabeth, nor could the temirtino- offer “ of enjoying more of Ulster commodities than ever did aiw arch- bishop there since St. Patrick’s time,” induce him to sanction the U Neill s fierce inroads “ on her majesty’s heretic subjects of 196 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN the Fale^ Arclibishop Creagli, in fact, cursed (excommu¬ nicated) him in the open field; refused to be the bearer of his letters to the king of Spain; communicated to the deputies Sussex and Sydney all that he could learn of his preparations “ for burning, killing, and spoiling the English Pale, according to his cursed custom; ” and had finally to get out of Ulster as best he could, to escape the terrible consequences of his fidelity to the English crown. And yet this learned prelate, so pious and submissive, who concludes all his appeals to the mercy of the privy council by “wishing her majesty and all the realm as much wealth and prosperity of soul and body as ever had any 2 :)rince or realm,” was for no crime of his, but solely for “ his hindering the archbishop of Dublin’s godly endeavours to pro¬ mote the reformation,” sent from the castle* of Dublin to the tower of London, where, after many years of unparalleled miseries, it was said he died of poison given him by his keeper. Who can doubt that Creagh might at any moment have ad¬ vanced himself to honours and wealth had he been disposed to compromise his soul by subscribing the queen’s supremacy ; or who that has read Pothe’s vivid sketch of his sufierings in the foul dungeons of Dublin castle and London tower, can refuse him the well-earned title of martyr ? Nor does the charge of treason by which Pyves and Harris would justify the execution of O’Hurly, archbishop of Cashel, rest on any other foundation than most gratuitous assertion. In¬ deed the official correspondence of the chief actors in that revolt¬ ing tragedy shows he had no political mission from Pome or Spain, and that his death, with all its horrible concomitants, was brought about by Loftus, who could neither win him over to the reformed religion, nor induce him to countenance it. Be¬ trayed by Fleming, baron of Slane, who subsequently figures in a letter of the deputy, sir William Eitzwilliam, to Burghley, as “ a person well affected towards her majesty’s service,” and whose kinsman (of the same name) undertook, in consideration of a bribe from Burghley, to assassinate Hugh, earl of Tyrone, * Archbishop Creagh has left us the following description of his cell in Dublin castle :—“ a hole where without candle there is no light in the world, and with candle, when I had it, it was so filled with the smoke thereof, chiefly in summer, that, had there not been a little hole in the next door to draw in breath with my mouth set upon it, I had been, perhaps, shortly undone. But the two gentlemen who elected me to go out, (i. ej escape with themselves and the said keeper, thought I should be much sooner undone in the second lodgings with cold, being thereto towards winter, removed, where scant was light as could be, and no fire.” THE SEVEXTEENTH CENTURY. 197 1 i O’Hnrly, was flung into the prison of Dublin castle in October 1583, and detained there till July of the following year, under hard restraint, and deprived of ordinary comforts. The charge on which he was arrested was alleged treason committed in foreign parts; and the Irish crown-lawyers, taking this into consideration, and doubting whether he could be found guilty, the the law not stretching in this particular so far as it did in Eno'- land, resolved, as he had neither lands nor goods, that he shoufd i be executed by martial law rather than hy an ordinary trial. j ■ Foreseeing what his fate would be if arraigned before such a tribunal, twenty-four burgesses of Dublin, availing themselves ^ of a statute passed in the reign of Edward IV., memorialized to have him delivered to them on bail, in order that he might have j the benefit of the common law, to which, as a civilian, he was fully 1 entitled. But their application was refused, and the lords justices > wrote to London for instruments of torture wherewith to force ... fession of ^uilt, as the only evidence i agamst him was one Barnwell, who had been with him at Borne, I and had made his peace with the government by pretending to renounce the Catholic faith, and conforming to the modern schism. That O’Hurly could have saved himself by followino- ! the same course is quite certain; but he would not. Conse"^ quently, the only alternative left him was a revolting death, preceded by agonizing torture, concerning which Adam Loftus and sir H. Wallop, in their letter to sir Francis Walsingham, wrote thus: “We made commissions to Mr. Waterhouse and secretary Fenton^ to 'put him (O’Hurly) to the torture, such as yowi honour advised us, 'which was to toast his feet against the fire with hot hoots'' This diabolical proceeding was quickly followed by the court-martial; for archbishop Loftus was apprehensive that his victim might escape him on Perrot’s accession to the deputyship. In order, therefore, to deprive the prisoner of every chance, either of life, or of a new trial by j ordinary law, Loftus caused him to be put to death just two days before he vacated the office of lord justice, as he himself tells us in his official report, from which we make the followino- -extract: ^ “We thought meet, according to our direction, to proceed n with him by court-martial, and for our farewell, two days before we delivered over the sword, being the 19th of June, we gave j warrant to the knight-marshal, in her majesty’s name, to do j execution on him, Hurly, which accordingly was performed, I and thereby the realm well rid of a most pestilent member, who was in an assured expectation of some means to be wrought for 198 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Ills enlargement, if lie might have found that favour to have had his time prolonged to the end of out governmenty^ Assuredly, then, the charge of treason against O’Hurly was not sustained by any reliable evidence; and the very fact of killing by sentence of court-martial in a country governed by law, was nothing short of a warfare in which justice seldom or never has any part. Was not Rothe, therefore, justified in styling him a maidyr, nay, and the most distinguished of those singularly great men, whose tribulations, constancy, and triumphs shall live for evermore in the pages he has consecrated to their memories 1 As to O’Deveny and others who perished on the scafibld, as Eothe describes, we have incontestible evidence that they were done to death by corrupt judges, perjured wit¬ nesses, and jurors designedly empanelled for their destruction. Writers like sir Thomas Ryves, indeed, never will be wanting to vilify the characters and motives of Catholics of every grade, and especially of those who were sacrificed to lawless tyranny and fanaticism ; but history will eventually vindicate their fame ; and many a document that has lain for ages in the dust of public and private archives will turn up to confute and silence their unscrupulous slanderers. As for the “ Analecta,” which has led us into this long digression, we may remark, that it had considerable circulation on the continent, and that O’Sullivan, when writing his “ Historia Catholica,” borrowed largely from its pages. It is almost superfluous to add that such a work was well calculated to keep alive the sympathy of foreign Catholics for their Irish co-religionists, for whose benefit some wealthy and charitable members of the former founded seminaries in France and elsewhere. n Resuming our notices of Rothe’s government of the see of Ossory, we may state that, although obliged to act with ex- tremest caution during the latter years of Oliver St. John’s deputyship, he nevertheless gave ample proof of unwearied zeal and great administrative ability. Like most of his contempo¬ rary prelates, he was often compelled to hold confirmations in the woods and on the hill-sides, and to celebrate the divine mysteries in the open air or under the roof of a hut improvised for the occasion. The people, however, who knelt before that rude altar, or listened to his exhortations in some secluded glen, respected him as much as if he had been addressing them from * St. Stephen’s Green was the scene of archbishop O’Hurly’s martyr¬ dom, and his remains were interred in the cemetery of St. Kevin’s oratory, which was then a ruin_O’Sullivan, Hist. Gath. Hib. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUHY. 199 tlie pulpit of St. Canice’s; for they not only venerated him in " his episcopal character, but also for those extraneous endow¬ ments which had rendered his name famous among the celebrities : of the time. At length, on the accession of lord Falkland, I: when the enforcement of the penal statutes began to be some- : what relaxed, he availed himself of such favourable opportunity to hold frequent synods of the clergy, in which he enacted dis- i ciplinary laws for their guidance, and originated an association, the grand object of which was to allay dissensions and unite the i entire body of the Irish priesthood, regular and secular, in har¬ monious action for the preservation of the people and their , ancient faith. Onerous, however, and exacting as his episcopal duties must j have been, it would appear that he did not abate his application • to literature, for he devoted all his leisure to the completion of ' the “ Hierographia,” and the Ecclesiastical History,’' of which ' we have already made mention. Such pursuits naturally in- I volved the additional labour of extensive correspondence with : learned men at home and abroad; and it is pleasing to be able j to record that the celebrated XJssher not only communicated with him through the medium of letters, but acknowledged him- ; self indebted to his erudition and research. Eothe recognised the Catholicism of genius, and respected it wherever it appeared; so much so, that the Protestant archbishop of Armagh, on con¬ sulting him either about disputed dates or excerpta which Pothe had made from manuscripts in continental libraries, had no difficulty in obtaining the desired information. Indeed, it is likely enough that Hssher borrowed from him some folios of the “ Hierographia,” and took from that work the verses on St. Livinus, which he has inserted in the Sylloge,” and gracefully acknowledged thus: “These elegiac stanzas, glossed by Posweyd, were communicated to me by Pothe, a most diligent investigator of his country’s antiquities.” The same kindly relations were I maintained by those singularly eminent men while XJssher was engaged on his “ Primordia,” in which he elegantly compliments Pothe, from whose works, published and unpublished, as he tells us, he had derived very great assistance. How creditable to him were such encomiums, at such a time and from such a man as Ussher, whose writings shall always command the ij, homage of those who respect great genius and learning of the L most extensive order ! While engaged on such congenial pursuits, it would appear that Pothe had to interpose his episcopal authority in deciding [j some unseemly disputes between the regular and secular 200 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN clergy, who were once again at issue about their respective privileges, and for the final settlement of which he was obliged to invoke the aid of Maurice Ultagh, provincial of the Francis¬ cans, whose name figures in the authentication prefixed to the autograph copy of the Four Masters. Ultagh, as became him, acquiesced in the bishop’s arbitration, and gave a written promise that there should not be a re23etition of the abuse laid to the charge of some overbold members of his order, the chief of whom he relegated to Spain to do penance for his error. It is almost superfluous to state, that Fothe was present in the synod convened by Fleming, archbishop of Dublin, at Tyr- croghan, in 1635, and also in the still more important one held in the metropolis of his own diocese, in 1640. On these momentous occasions he took a leading part, for he was justly regarded as the most learned of the Irish prelacy, and foremost among those who had done greatest services to religion and country. In the year immediately following, known as that of the great Irish rebellion, Fothe exerted all his influence to prevent the effusion of blood and aggression on the lives and properties of Protestants, many of whom found refuge from violence in the house of his brother, then one of the wealthiest merchants in Kilkenny. When, however, the Irish prelates .and lay lords commenced to organise the confederation, Fothe made a con¬ spicuous figure in all their earliest deliberations, which were held under his own roof, where he entertained the prelates Avliile they were debating the question of the justness of an armed struggle for religion, life, and loyalty. This question, it would appear, had its opponents as well as advocates among the bishops ; but when it was submitted to Fothe for his decision, he at once declared that a war undertaken for the king, the abolition of penal enactments, and restitution of the churches to the Catholics was according to all recognised laws, not only just but obligatory in the eyes of God and man. This pronouncement, from one whose age, learning, and wisdom entitled him to be regarded as an irrefragable authority, re¬ moved all doubt from the minds of the dissentient few, and caused them to subscribe the opinion of the majority. The revolution thus suddenly effected raised him to the rank of spiritual peer, and as such he took his place in the upper house of the confederates after they had established their parliament in 1642. At that period he had reached the seventieth year of his age and twenty-fourth of his episcopacy; and we may readily imagine with what feelings he must have looked back THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 201 on the long and dreary interval through which he had to pass before attaining a dignity so exalted, and, in all likeliliood, never anticipated. One of the first acts of the confederate government was to acknowledge Eothe rightful bishop of Ossory. As such he entered into possession of the see and its temporalities,* which had been vacated by Williams, the Protestant prelate, who fled on the first outbreak of the insurrection. Strange, how¬ ever, as it may seem, he could not be induced to take up his abode in the episcopal palace, and it was with reluctance he ultimately consented to exchange his brother’s house for that of the deanery, where, on the 11th of October, 1642, being St. Canice’s day, the mayor of the Irishtown was, according to old usage, duly sworn in his presence. The deanery was thence¬ forth the place of his constant residence. His next public act was to reconcile or rehabilitate the cathedral of St. Canice for the Catholic service, and he accordingly performed this ceremony with great pomp in presence of many prelates and members of the supreme council, foremost among whom were his old friends and protectors, lord Mountgarret and Pichard Butler. Sadly, indeed, had that venerable edifice suffered during the intrusion of Bayle, so properly styled by Bothe, “ Iconoclastes ganeo,” drunken iconoclast, who hewed down the altars, smashed the sculptured effigies, and made away with the gold and silver utensils of the sanctuary. To repair such wanton outrages on objects venerated by religion and art, and to replace the sacred furniture sacrilegiously purloined, was Bothe’s most cherished aim, and as soon as he had accomplished it, he caused a fair monumentf to be erected in St. Mary’s chapel, with an inscrip¬ tion, doubtless composed by himself, to record the period at which the cathedral was restored to its pristine uses, and to mark the spot in which he hoped—how vainly—that his bones might await the resurrection. In connexion with this subject we may not omit to mention, that he introduced a novel regulation respecting those who were to have pastoral charge of St. Canice’s parish ; for he limited their tenure of office to three, and in no instance allowed it to exceed six months, in order that the people might be properly cared for, and the pastors themselves should have ample time for prayerful retire¬ ment. I * 8ee Appendix L 1. t See Appendix M m. 4 “Ecclesiae S. Canici pastores tantum ad trimestre, vel, semestre successione, designabat, ut nova semper cura et zelo ad officium ac- cederent, ac postea sua intervalla haberent quibus spiritui vacarent.”— Lynch, MSS. 202 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Mainly intent on liis episcopal duties, Rotlie seldom took part in the political debates of his compeers in the supreme council, but whenever he did, his words fell with great force on all parties, for he was universally respected for his judgment and moderation. His affability, varied learning, and wonderful conversational powers, charmed all who approached him or partook of his frugal board ; and so liberal was he of the reve¬ nues of his diocese, that he seldom or never was master of a hundred pounds, for he expended all he received in alms to the poor, purchase of altar requirements for his cathedral, and books, of which he was singularly fond. As for the clergy who had the happiness of living under such a guide and chief, we might easily fancy that their cha¬ racter was all that could be desired ; but, fortunately, there is no room for conjecture on this point, since we have it on the authority of one who was intimately acquainted with both, that the priests of Ossory, those of Kilkenny especially, were, at the time of the nunzio’s arrival, not only zealous and labo¬ rious, but models to their confreres throughout Ireland. “ Liv¬ ing in community,” says Lynch, “ they cultivated learning, were remarkable for their piety, and reflected many of the high attributes of their bishop; so much so, that, when Kinuccini entered Kilkenny, he found there a cathedral properly served by priests who might have been equalled but could not have been excelled by those of his own city of Fermo.”* At that time, however, Kothe, as we have stated, was in feeble health and afflicted with all those physical infirmities that usually accompany the decline of a long life spent in the performance of laborious duties and unwearied application to literary pursuits. Withal, his mental vitality, far from being exhausted or impaired, was both vigorous and elastic, and although the nature of his maladies prevented him taking part in the debates of the confederate assembly, his opinions on all controverted issues of policy were invariably heard with re¬ spectful attention by the members of both houses, all of whom gave him credit for profound judgment and matured wisdom. Nevertheless, it must be admitted, that he vacillated in his views, and endeavoured to balance himself, as it were, between the two parties into which the confederates resolved themselves * The actual learned prelate who, like his predecessor Dr. Eothe, has rendered such signal service to the ecclesiastical history of Ireland, has recently established the Ossory Archaeological Society, which deserves- the sympathy and co-operation of the Irish priesthood at home and abroad. THE SEVENTEE^STTH CENTURY. 203 soon after Rinnccini’s arrival in Ireland. In fact, Rothe not only adopted the policy which that dignitary propounded in the congregation of the clergy at Waterford, in 1646, but threatened to place Kilkenny and its suburbs under interdict in case the inhabitants declared themselves satisfied with the articles which lord Ormond granted to the Catholics. Two years afterwards, however, Rothe either changed or modified his views and went over to the party of his old friends, lord Mountgairet and Richard Rutler. In the meantime his ina¬ bility to perform episcopal functions became so apparent that the nunzio wrote to Rome, stating that “ the aged bishop was so weak as to be hardly able to leave his chamber,’’ and pray¬ ing that Bartholomew Archer, a native of Kilkenny, then in Fiance, and almoner to the duchess of Orleans, might be aii- pointed coadjutor in the see of Ossory. How this recom¬ mendation was received by the holy see we are not informed ; but the nunzio wrote again in the course of a few months afterwards to have it superseded. It was, probably, at this peiiod that Rothe wrote a small work entitled, “ ScimctTitanus IwmscTihens remedia Hihernice,'' with the view, it may be con¬ jectured, of reconciling the conflicting parties in the confederate assembly. This work, however, did not appear in print, and was destined to share the fate of other and still more valuable evidences of its author’s indefatigable industry. _At length, notwithstanding his great age, and many infir¬ mities, Rothe contrived to be present at that final and fatal debate in which the supreme council of the confederates re¬ jected the nunzio’s policy, and declared for the treaty recently concluded with lord Inchiquin. Exasperated by this futile attempt ^ to affect a fusion of parties so heterogeneous and antagonistic, the nunzio immediately pronounced sentence of interdict and excommunication against all abettors of said compact, and commanded the censures to be observed in every city and town that presumed to declare for the supreme council. Rothe, however, questioned the nunzio’s right to publish and enfoice such censures, and sternly refused to close the doors of his^ churches against his flock or refuse them the consolations of religion. On learning this, Fleming, archbishop of Dublin, wrote to him that he should cause the censures to be observed, but he continued inexorable and refused to comply. The arch¬ bishop’s letter was written early in June, 1648, and in th& course of a few days afterwards, the leading members of the supreme council submitted to Rothe seven queries, touching the validity of the excommunication, with a request that he 204 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN would assemble all the able divines then in Kilkenny, and have their verdict on said propositions or queries returned with all possible sjieed. To this Kothe willingly consented, and, in ' August following, he delivered his celebrated answer, in which he proved to the satisfaction of the supreme council that the nunzio’s excommunication was null and void. This elaborate document, extending over seven-and-twenty folio pages, shows that its author was thoroughly master of canon law, intimately acquainted with sacred and secular history, and deeply versed in the science of statecraft. Let us add that it was the last great effort of his pen, and the consummation of his literary life. It is almost needless to say, that the nunzio was deeply offended by Rothe’s conduct in this business of the censures, or that he suggested to the holy see “that the bishop of Ossory should be suspended, ad libitum 2 )ontijicis, from his functions for having refused to observe the interdict, and acted as though he alone were supreme judge in a matter of such momentous importance. The pope, however, did not gratify the nunzio’s wish, and Rothe retained possession of his see till one more inexorable than either pontiff or emperor deprived him of it. During the entire of 1649 Rothe was confined to his cham¬ ber, a prey to excruciating pain, and unable to take any part in the proceedings of the prelates who had adopted his views, and placed themselves under his guidance. In such circumstances death, indeed, would have been a welcome visitation, for those who came to his bedside had little else to speak of except the unparalleled massacres perpetrated in Drogheda and Wexford, the probability that Cromwell would march on Kilkenny, and the certain destruction of a whole kinijdom divided as^ainst itself. To add to his misery, the plague had already appeared in the city, and on learning this, he arose from his bed, and, his feebleness notwithstanding, took measures for the spiritual and temporal consolation of his flock, among whom he declared he would stay till such time as it might please God to remove him, either by Puritan’s bullet, or the less merciful agency of the pestilence which had already swept away whole battalions of the garrison and reduced it to four hundred men. Even so, the brave heart of the venerable bishop never failed him at this terrible crisis ; for, instead of escaping from the city as he could have done, he caused himself to be carried in a litter from door to door, in order that he might have the satisfaction of minis¬ tering with his own hands relief to those who were struck down by the plague. The mysterious shadows of approaching dissolu¬ tion were already visible on his pale and wasted features; and 4 THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 205 1 when the dying beheld him borne along in their midst, or looked up to him from their straw pallets while he was pronouncino’ the last benediction over them, many and many a one derived , consolation from the thought that the pastor would not tarry long behind his flock. . It was on the 22nd March, 1650, that Cromwell appeared before Ivilkenny, and summoned its garrison to surrender. Sir Walter Butler, however, notwithstanding the smallness of the force at his command, resolved that the city should not fall ! without an effort to maintain it. But despite the heroic re- ; sistance which he and his four hundred men offered to the be- y siegers, he was obliged to capitulate in less than six days. The terms of surrender were negotiated on the 26th March, and ■; Edward Bothe, the bishop’s brother, was nominated by sir Walter Butler one of the four commissioners appointed to see j; ^ the treaty duly carried out ; himself, Edward, remaining a ; ^ hostage ^ in Cromwelks camp for its fulfilment. Among other {; stipulations entered into on this occasion, there was one which : especially regarded the clergy; for when that subject was [j mooted to Cromwell, he sent a written answer to sir Walter J’ Butler, couched in his usual laconic style, but, withal, satisfac- f tory enough, if we consider that he might have dealt as he pleased with the city and its inhabitants. jIs foT youT clBTgy, I CIS you Gdll theTYi so ran Cromwell’s reply— in ccise you cigTee to a surrender, they shall march away safely with their goods ! ¥ they fall otherwise into my hands, I believe they know what to^ expect from meJ^ Availing himself of this saving clause, the i bishop left the city on the 28th, with the remnant of the brave i garrison ; but he had not gone more than half a mile outside f the walls, when his carriage was set upon by some stragglers of J Cromwell’s army, who arrested and robbed him on the spot of j one hundred jDounds, all that he possessed. Intelligence of his capture was at once despatched to Cromwell,* and in justice to the latter it must be told, that he gave permission to have him conveyed back to the city, and handed over to his kinsfolk, who were then, we may suppose, residing in the family mansion. There, surrounded by his sorrowing friends, he lingered slowly I till the 20th of April, when, after receiving all the comforts of I religion, he resigned his soul to God. Strange as it may seem, ; when we reflect on what must have been the state of Kilkenny at that period, it is, nevertheless, certain that Cromwell allowed ' the obsequies of the deceased bishop to be performed without * See Appendix N '206 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN constraint or interruption; for Lyncli tells us that he was waked by torchlight, and that his remains were deposited in the family vault of St. Mary’s* church, after the last offices had been duly solemnized by his friends. Indeed the latter strove to have him interred in St. Canice’s, under the monument which he himself had erected there ; but owing, probably, to the fact of Axtell’s regiment being quartered in the sacred edifice, they were not able to carry out their intentions. It is certain that Axtell’s soldiers destroyed the sumptuous tomb of the Ormond family, and spared that of Motlie, which was subsequently treated with less respect by Parry, Protestant bishop of Ossory, whose “ ill-judged zeal ” has been justly censured by Harris, in his notice of that schismatic’s life. As for Pothe’s unpublished works, comprising the “ Hiero- graphia,” “Ecclesiastical History,” and “Samaritanus proe- scribens,” &c., they were all either carried off or destroyed by the Cromwellians, who pillaged the deanery. Happily, how¬ ever, owing to the research and literary zeal of the reverend Hr. Graves, rector of Stoneyford, a few fragments of the “ Hiero- graphia ”t have been recovered ; few, indeed, but more than enough to make us lament that he has not been able to find the missing parts. Perhaps some more fortunate investigator may one day bring them to light; and this wish we would fain accompany with a hope that some skilful hand will yet do justice to Pothe’s biography, and suj^plement the shortcomings of the present writer. Meanwhile, let us pray that the city of the confederates may soon cease to be incurious of one of its most distinguished sons, and expiate past neglect by raising a noble monument to the memory of David Pothe. CHAPTEP YII. Of all the towns which Pinuccini visited during his stay in Ireland, Waterford was the one that impressed him most * The will of Robert Rothe, executed in 1619, directs that he should he buried in ‘‘ ye chapel of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Michael, Kil¬ kenny,” where his wife, father, mother, grandfather, and grandmother are interred. St. Mary’s, doubtless, was the burial place of the bishop’s an¬ cestors. The nunzio during his sojourn in Kilkenny officiated very fre¬ quently in St. Mary’s, for which he entertained a special liking, t See Appendix 0 o. ■i • THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUEY. 207 ^ favourably, and came nearest to bis ideal of a Catliolic city whose inhabitants were not only remarkable for their devoted¬ ness to the ancient religion, but also for their commercial inter¬ course with France, SjDain, Belgium, and other great emporiums of the time.^ We may also add that he was thoroughly acquainted with the history of the persecution which the Waterfordians had suffered for the maintenance of their faith at the first attempt to propagate the reformation there ; and at a period much nearer his own, when lord Mountjoy disputed with John ; White and O’Callaghan, the Dominican, about the exact mean- ; mg of some abstruse passages of St. Augustine’s theology, and . ended the controversy by threatening to cut king John’s charter ! with king James’s sword, in case the Catholics should insist on |. the public exercise of their religion and the retention of those old churches which their forefathers had erected to the o-fory of God and the honour of his saints. Indeed, to such a^man _ as Binuccini, the history of Waterford, during an interval little , short of a quarter of a century before his arrival in Ireland, \ presented a series of incidents that could not but ‘ excite his admiration for a people who, despite every species of oppression, still clung unswervingly to the old faith, and scorn- j., 1 ejected that most stupid of all modern dogmas, the kino^’s i spiritual headship. Bothe’s Analecta” and O’Sullivan’s Ca- I tholic History ” were works with which he must have been i familiar, and from these as well as other sources he, doubtless I had learned how the mayors and other leading men of Water- j ford submitted to fine and imprisonment rather than swear the I supremacy oath; nay, and for refusing to take it had been ; deprived of them charter, and robbed of all municipal privileges i and immunities for a term of over nine years. Constancy and i fidelity to the Catholic religion in the midst of unmitigated j hardships during the reign of James I, and that of his ill- i starred son, were the grand characteristics of the citizens of I' Waterford ; and we may, therefore, readily imagine with what feelings of respect and reverence Binuccini, whose sole and un¬ disguised aim was the absolute triumph of catholicity, must have regarded them. But along with these there were other I motives which inspired the nunzio with a warm affection, if we may use such a phrase, for a city so heartily devoted to the holy , see motives which had their origin in his just appreciation of those eminent ecclesiastics to whom W^aterford had given birth, and whose celebrity in the domain of literature was then acknow¬ ledged by all the great schools of the continent from Borne to ^ Salamanca. That old city of the Ostmen was the birthplace i 208 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN of Peter Lombard, arclibisbop of Armagh, with whom the nimzio must have been personally acquainted in the days of Gregory XV., nor can we doubt that he was intimately familiar with the Memoir of Ireland,”* which that learned prelate presented to Clement VIII., in order to secure that pontiff’s sympathy for Hugh O’Xeill, then in arms against queen Eliza¬ beth, and all but king of Ireland from Gweedore to Kinsale- head. How grateful to the nunzio’s ear must that euphonious name, Peter Lombard, have sounded, and may it not have re¬ minded him of another Pietro—he of the Sentences—whom Thomas of Aquino pointed out to Dante among the blessed in paradise, crowned and refulgent, for having, like the poor widow in the gospel, given (dl he 'possessed, the mintage of his splendid intellect, to the treasury of the church % But there was another of her citizens of whom Waterford had greater reason to be proud, and that was Luke Wadding, whose mother, Anastasia Lombard, was near akin to the - arch¬ bishop, and whose renown, as a man of unparalleled erudition, not only reflected honour on the j^lace of his nativity, but raised the character of Ireland in the esteem of the entire con¬ tinent. A singularly-gifted family, indeed, was that of the Waddings ; for at the period of which we are writing, no less than fourf of them, all born in Waterford, were filling chairs of divinity and philosophy at Louvain, Prague, Dillingen, and Coimbra. Luke, however, or as he was familiarly called at Home, “ Padre Luca,” inherited a larger amount of talent than fell to the lot of any of his kinsmen; so much so, that, notwith¬ standing the claims which each of them has to our respect, they are all outshone by the brilliancy of his fame, and seem like so many stars set in the aureole with which religion and science have encircled his head. Before leaving Borne for the scene of his nunciature, Binuccini^ doubtless, had frequent interviews with father Luke, whose intimate knowledge of the condition and resources of the con¬ federate Catholics at that period, entitled him to be regarded as the most reliable authority whom the pope’s minister could * Be Eegno Hiberniae” for a correct edition of which, with Introduc¬ tory notices, we are indebted to Most Eev. Dr. Moran, the learned bishop of Ossory. t Father Harold in his biography of Wadding gives their names in the following order :—Richard (Wadding) of the Augustine Heremites who taught theology at Coimbra ; Peter, a Jesuit, who professed theology and philosophy in Prague and Louvain ; Luke, also a Jesuit who taught same sciences at Madrid. All v/ere cousins of the celebrated father Luke, whose brother Ambrose died at Dillingen where he taught philosophy. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUKY. 209 consult on subjects of such great importance. Without, how- ever^, pretpiding to divine all that maj have transpired in the conversations of those two eminent men as they sat together in St. Isidore’s, in the little chamber where hung Carlo Maratti’s portrait of the great Franciscan, and where he had deposited those priceless relics of Irish literature saved from the universal wreck, we may safely assert that Wadding advised the nunzio to proceed straight to Waterford, and make his first public appearance^ in that city. That Finuccini intended to do so is quite certain j but on his way, as we have stated in a former paper, the frigate which bore him and his fortunes was chased out of her course by a parliament ship, and had to run before the wind for the bay of Kenmare. Indeed, there were many reasons which disposed the nunzio to elect Waterford for the place of his landing, and among the chiefest of these was the cordial greeting* with which he would be received there, not only by the great majority of the citizens, but also by the opulent classes, the Waddings, Wises, and Lombards, whose high social position, and zeal for the confederate cause were notorious, not only in Ireland, but at Lome. Then, again, the harbour of W^aterford was a very desirable place for disembark¬ ing the specie and arms which he had brought with him to pay and equip the confederate levies j and above all, the strong fort of Duncannon, with its commanding batteries and Catholic artillerists would not only thunder out its salvos on his arrival, but would afford him what he did not prize less, safe anchorage for his ship, and an open seaboard to maintain correspondence with the continent. As soon, however, as all peril of being intercepted had passed, the San Pietro made sail for the haven of Waterford and dropped anchor right under the guns of Duncannon. “ During my nunciature,” says Finuccini, ‘^Waterford was of all the Irish towns pre-eminently the most devoted and loyal to religion and the holy see.” ^ Anxious, however, as the nunzio must have been to present himself to the people of W^aterford, he was not able to make his appearance there till February, 1646, that is to say, four months after his arrival in Ireland. On approaching the city, accom¬ panied by father Scarampi and others of his retinue, he was met by many of the principal citizens, who presented him with * Sir Richard Belling, who accompanied Binuccini from Rochelle, regrets that they could not land in Waterford, where his lordship would have been welcomed with a salute from all the great guns.—“ Con sparamento di tutte le bombarde.”— Nunziatura in Irlanda. P 210 THE IKISH HIEEARCHY IN a congratulatory address, and made him an offer of their hospi¬ tality. Foremost among the burgesses who were most courteous to him on this occasion was Thomas Wadding, father Luke’s cousin, a very opulent man, who placed his town residence and suburban villa at his disposal, and entertained him with a series of costly banquets, to which all the most distinguished citizens were invited to heighten the eclat of the occasion. Thenceforth, whenever Finuccini visited the city, he invariably fixed his residence in Wadding’s mansion, and it is unnecessary to say that while staying there he never lacked any of those obsequious attentions to which his high and influential position entitled him. Horses and equipages were at his command, and father Luke’s kinsman thought he could never do enough to manifest his respect for the pope’s minister.* But the grandest fete of all was the reception given him in the ancient cathedral of the Holy Trinity, at whose threshold he was met by Patrick Comerford, bishop of Waterford and Lismore, a venerable and learned prelate, whom Binuccini, in ' all probability, had met at Borne, but with whose zealous and patriotic character there can be no doubt he was long and thoroughly acquainted. The function solemnized on this occa¬ sion was truly grand, strictly in accordance with what the rubric prescribes for such occasions, and satisfactory to the critical eye of the nunzio, who, although extremely fastidious about the minutest details of ceremonial, professed himself sur- 2 :)rised and edified by the accurate and graceful deportment of the bishop and his subordinates. In fact, Comerford was a prelate modelled according to Binuccini’s ideal—one who was intently earnest on restoring not only the open and untram¬ melled exercise of religion, but the revival of all its gorgeous accessories—one, in fact, who, had he the power to do so, would have surrounded the altar of his cathedral with a splendour which might have vied with that of St. Peter’s at Borne. In the person of this bishop the nunzio discovered a man who like himself was truly zealous for the absolute triumph of Catholicity, the restoration of the churches to their rightful claimants, and the due observance of the ancient ritual without compromise or curtailment. Patrick Comerford, or ‘‘Quern erf ord,” according to the ortho¬ graphy of the fifteenth century, son of Bobert Comerford and Anastasia White, was born in Waterford, about the year 1586, just two years before his eminent friend and fellow-citizen. * “ Harold’s Life of Wadding.” THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 211 ' pRke Wadding, came into tlie world. Hobert, father of the futiiie bishop, was an opulent merchant, and brother to Nicholas Comerford, a distinguished scholar, who, after taking his degree in Oxford, in 1562, returned to his native city, and was there ordained priest. Refusing to conform to Protestantism, he was obliged to betake himself to Louvain, where he was honoured with the degree of doctor of divinity in 1575; and leaving the lattei city, he proceeded to Madrid, where he joined the Jesuits, i and died after having composed various works, which exhibit indubitable marks of a highly cultivated intellect. This simple ; feet IS of itself sufficient evidence of the devotedness of the j Cornel folds lO the ancient faith, but the fragmentary history of I the family proves that Anastasia, mother of Patrick, was a |j constant and faithful friend to the persecuted priests in those I days of calamity, when that arch-hypocrite, Miler Magrath, : held, along with his numerous pluralities, the see of Waterford and Lismore in commendam. Among the priests who partook Anastasia s shelter and hospitality, there was one Lermot O’Callaghan, whom she selected as tutor for her child, and at I this good man’s knee young Patrick was made acquainted with the first rudiments, and prepared for entrance into the cele- R brated school of Kilkenny, of which Peter White was then j: president. _ There it was the boy’s good fortune to have for his ^ fellow-pupils Peter Lombard, Richard Stanihurst, Luke Wad- » ding, and other celebrities, whose after career was destined to j reflect such credit on the ‘ffiucky schoolmaster,” as Peter White * was called. At length, when he completed the course of belles- :' lettres, and made up his mind to adopt ecclesiastical life, Anas- tasia Comerford, then a widow, resolved to send her boy, in , chaige of father Dermot O’Callaghan, his first perceptor, to the ^ lush secular college of Lisbon. Having tarried some time in ! that establishment, he proceeded to the seminary which De ’ Sourdis, cardinal-archbishop of Bourdeaux, had founded in that I city for the education of Irish priests, and there the young lad distinguished himself, not only as a clever humanist, but as an ' able composer of Latin verses. Owing to weak health, how¬ ever, he was obliged to relinquish the vine-clad banks of the I Gai onne for those of the Suir and the Blackwater; but as soon :as he found himself reinvigorated, he again set out for Lisbon, ■ himself to the study of philosophy. His success in •this department was highly creditable, for he disputed a public t esis, and won the applause of all those who assisted at this intellectual toiirnay. Having completed his philosophical ^studies, Comerford entered the novitiate of the Austin Hermits 212 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN in Lisbon, and at the close of the probationary term, his sn- periors sent him to their convent at Angra, capital of Terceiro, in the Azores, where he professed rhetoric for four years. At the close of that period he was recalled to Lisbon, where he prosecuted his theological course, and defended a thesis com¬ prising the entire cycle of divinity. His talents were now pro¬ nounced to be of a splendid order, and the Austin Hermits of Lisbon had good reason to congratulate themselves on having among them one who, although still very young, was, neverthe¬ less deemed amply qualified to quit the form of the pupil for the professor’s chair in any of the various departments of science which were cultivated at the time. Having attained his twenty-fourth year in 1610, Comerford was ordained priest, and as his services were required at BiTissels, he immediately set out for that city, where, on his arrival, he was advanced to the chair of theology in the school attached to the convent of his order. There can be no doubt that he spent many years thus employed in the Belgian capital, from which, however, he was summoned towards the close of the pontificate of Paul V., to assist at a general chapter of his order which was held at Borne. Comer- ford’s fame had preceded him, and the pope recognizing his merits, resolved that he should not leave the eternal city without receiving substantial evidence of the esteem in which he was held. Little, indeed, could a pontiff do at that period for the material advancement of any member of the religious orders in Ireland, where the conventual domains had been sacrilegiously alienated to lay proprietors; but as the latter did not care to invest themselves with the designation of prior or guardian, such titles, albeit honorary, were still in the gift of the supreme head of the Church, who bestowed them as he willed, with the twofold object of protesting against spoliation, and rewarding eminent merit. At the period of which we are writing, the ancient monastery of the Austin Hermits of Callan, founded by Bichard Butler in the fifteenth century, had no prior, and as Paul Y. was importuned to collate to the vacancy, he gladly availed himself of the opportunity to testify his appreciation of father Comerford’s worth, by advancing him to a place which although stripped of its temporalities, was, nevertheless, one of great respectability. Thus honoured, Comerford set out for Ireland; and passing through Florence, the far-famed Academy della Crusca enrolled him among its members, and conferred on him the degree of doctor of philology. On reaching his native land he immediately THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 213 - 2^resented liimself to Rotlie, bisIioi 3 of Ossoiy, and that learned l^relate welcomed and congratulated him on his ap23ointment to the priory of Callan. The once stately monastery, with its sj^lciidid church, was then little better than a mere ruin * but I the j 4 ,ustin biotherhood still continued to live in the vicinity, ^ where they toiled energetically for the preservation of the old ^ faith. ^ Lands and revenues they had none, but despite pro- . scription and oppression, the generosity of the persecuted Catholics sustained them, and on many occasions saved them from imprisonment and worse. Father Comerford discharged I the duties of his office with great zeal during the ten years\e , held the priory, residing almost constantly with his poor com- miinity, and occasionally^ going to Waterford to console and j': encourage the faithful citizens, who were still groaning under [: the vexatious tyranny of penal enactments. ; It was during one of those jieriodical visits that some one |i told him that a brother of his had been captured by an Algerine : cruiser,* who carried off his prize to Mogador, where the prisoners were to be sold in the slave market. Hearing this, I Father Comerford lost no time in ascertaining all particulars ■■ of the disaster; and having satisfied himself of its truth, he ! Resolved to go to Spain, to engage the charitable aid of the Trinitarian monks, whose grand mission was the redemption of ! captives out of the hands of those fanatic barbarians, from _ whose bloody raids no European seaboard was then secure. ; Being supplied by his kinsmen and friends with a considerable ' sum of money, he set out for Gibraltar, and a few months after I his arrival there he had the happiness of embracing his brother, for whose liberation a large ransom had been paid. IJnfortu- ^ nately, however, the latter died soon “afterwards, and Comerford ; had the melancholy satisfaction of seeing him laid in a foreimi ’ grave. ^ ^ After passing some time in Spain, Comerford proceeded to I Home, whither he was called for the arrangement of certain ^ matters relating to the Irish Augustinians; and when that [j^ business was concluded he learned that Urban Will, had re- 1 ^Ived to promote him to the see of Waterford and Lismore. I The late bishoj) of that diocese had been some time dead, and b bulls were expedited for the advancement of the Cistertian I abbot of Inislaunacht, commonly called ‘‘de Siiir,” to the r vacancy; but he, too, died before the arrival of the jiapal letters. I i, of Waterford then petitioned the holy see to bestow j * See Appendix l?p. 214 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN the bishopric on Comerford, and Urban VIII., after due de¬ liberation, granted their prayer. Indeed, Urban was well assured that Comerford possessed 8l11 the qualifications which should adorn the episcopal character, and that he was not only a man of irreprehensible life, hut truly zealous, and largely endowed with knowledge, both as a legist and theologian. The see to which he was about to be raised was poor and persecuted, and desirable as it might have been in other times, the dignity of chief pastor of Waterford and Lismore, at the period of his elevation, was one which exposed him to innumerable hardships and immment risk of liberty and life. No need had he to echo the prayer of Paulinus, bishop of Nola—“ Grant, Lord, that I may not be plagued with handling gold and silver ”—for the latter had been seized by the so called Peformers, but there still remained what was, in his eyes, far more appreciable—a flock whose fidelity had been tested in many terrible ordeals, and a clergy renowned for zeal and high attainments. As for Comerford, or as we may now style him, the bishop-elect of Waterford and Lismore, he belonged to an order which made solemn profession of poverty, and we may add, that if the alienated revenues of the diocese to which he was about to be promoted had been at his command, he would have used them in the same manner as Cardinal Frederick Borromeo, his generous benefactor, used those of the rich see of Milan. Poverty and persecution in their most revolting aspects had no terrors for a man so minded, and he accordingly accepted at the hands of Urban VIII. his advancement to the episcopate, with all the consequences which it might involve. Towards the close of March, 1629, there was a large assemblage in the beautiful church of St. Sylvester, on the Quirinal, to assist at the consecration of Patrick Comerford. Many of his countrymen were present on the occasion; some mere striplings who were pursuing their studies in the eternal city, and some gray-haired retainers of O’Neill and O’Donnell, who having been proscribed in their native land, elected to pass the residue of their years near the graves of those great chieftains on the Janiculum. But of all those who came to witness the ceremony, the most distinguished was father Luke Wadding, who laid aside his books for awhile, and went down from St. Isidore’s to congratulate his fellow-citizen, early play¬ mate, and school companion, on his well-deserved promotion. Comerford was then in his forty-third year, and Wadding was two years his junior; the one had attained the highest honour THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 215 the pope could bestow, but the other, had even then won for himself, in the world of letters, a celebrity which was destined to be perennial. What imagination could realize the emotions that must have quickened the hearts of these two men at that moment when the founder of St. Isidoro knelt for the bishop’s blessing? May we not fancy that visions of Waterford rose before their memories, and that they thought of the olden time when they conned their lessons in Peter White’s school on the banks of the Nore ? * Comerford set out for Ireland soon after his consecration; but before leaving Pome he had an audience of pope Urban, who charged him to do his utmost for tbe revival of the Irish houses of the Austin friars, and appointed him apostolic-vicar- general of the regular canons of St. Austin, whose establish¬ ments were very numerous throughout the island in those times when no one ever thought that the monasteries would be sup¬ pressed for the benefit of rapacious princes and their favourites. He was, indeed, grateful for this last proof of the pontiff’s esteem, but he hardly required any exhortation to stimulate him in behalf of his own order, for whose restoration he had already laboured with great success. On arriving in Ireland he fixed his residence in Waterford, and applied himself to the discharge of his episcopal duties, cautiously avoiding all demonstrations that could provoke the bigotry and intolerance of the lords justices, sir Adam Loftus, and Boyle, earl of Cork, who then held the reins of govern¬ ment in the absence of lord Falkland. To such men as these the life and liberty of a Catholic bishop was a matter of utter insignificance; for they affected to regard all such dignitaries as political agents, employed by Borne and Spain to efiect a counter-revolution in Ireland, which, if successful, would strip them of their unjustly acquired estates, and restore the church property to the “ papists.” To persecute, and if possible, to extirpate the Bomish prelates,” was therefore sound policy, not only consonant to the spirit of the lay supremacy, but dic¬ tated by the suggestions of self-interest. Long experience and close observation had made Comerford acquainted with the bigotry of men of this character, and consequently he did not neglect to fence himself about with such prudential caution as might keep him from falling into their murderous hands. But besides those who w^ere then governing Ireland from Dublin castle, there were others against whose malignity and * See Appendix Q q. 216 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN intolerance lie had to be, if possible, still more constantly on his guard ; those were the Protestant bishops of Waterford, Boyle and Atherton, who, during their usurpation of that see, harassed the unfortunate Catholics in the most cruel manner by levying tines for ‘‘ recusancy,” and obstructing the priests in the discharge of their duties. Indeed, it was no easy matter for one in Comerford’s position to escape the toils which were often spread for him by those two fanatical knaves, whose schemes for persecuting the less enlightened members of his flock, by the agency of schools and bribes, he invariably frus¬ trated. To such men, any Catholic bishop would have been a scandal and a stumbling-block, which they would gladly have swept from their path ; but one with his energy and unques¬ tionable hold on the hearts of the Catholics of Waterford, was something worse—a great difficulty to the progress of the novel doctrines, and a hinderer of truth, whom they could not regard but with feelings of personal hatred. Nevertheless, despite their unwearied vigilance, he contrived to keep the faith alight in the souls of his people; and notwithstanding all their crafty devices, he held synods of his clergy, ordained clerics, and confirmed multitudes of the young by day and by night, either in private houses or in the woods, whither he was often obliged to betake him in order to perform episcopal functions without interruption. At length, when the Catholics of Waterford joined the movement of 1641, and Atherton, their bitter enemy, had closed his career by a disgraceful death on the scafibld. Comer- ford employed his influence in repressing the violence of those who were but too well disposed to inflict summary vengeance on the professors of the new religion, at whose hands they had received nothing but cruelty and vexatious oppression, not indeed for disloyalty to the state, but for lealty to the church of their fathers. Indeed, Comerford’s charity and merciful interposition at that crisis, saved many from the wild passions of the populace ; and some of those who, before then, regarded him as an implacable enemy, had good reason to thank God for having sent them such a friend and deliverer, as he proved himself when their lives were in imminent peril. Being summoned to assist in framing the Oath of Associa¬ tion, and establishing the Confederacy in Kilkenny, he took an active part in all those preliminaries, and was one of the first of the Irish prelates to declare, that the war which the Catholics were about to wage, was not only just in the sight of heaven, but absolutely necessary for the welfare of the Irish Catholics. In THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 217 1642, tlie supreme council, of wliicli lie Avas a member, suc¬ ceeded in taking Duncannon fort, and in tlie same year -he bad restored to him all the temporalities of his see, which had been so long in the possession of Anglican intruders. He then lost no time in reconciling his cathedral church of the Holy Trinity, and replacing the sacred furniture of which it had been stripped by the schismatics ; and so great was his zeal for the honour and splendour of religion, that the faithful of Water¬ ford supplied him with abundant means to rebuild the altars, and furnish the holy places, the cathedral especially, with all necessary requirements. As a matter of course, he was fre¬ quently present at the deliberations of his compeers in the Confederate Assembly; but his chief care was bestowed on his flock, among whom he resided almost constantly, in order that he might repair the many injuries which religion had sustained during the intrusion of the heretic bishops, and confirm the faithful in their devotedness to the ancient faith, for which their fathers had endured such cruel persecution. Hone, indeed, could have loved the splendour of religion more than he did, and none could have laboured more indefatigably for the revival of the ritual in all its minutest details. Indeed, in the interval between the formation of the Confederacy and the nunzio’s arrival in Ireland, he succeeded in making his churches resemble those of Home, as far as ceremonies were concerned, so much so, that Hinuccini declared that he had nowhere seen functions more edifying or pompous than those which he witnessed in Waterford. As for the Augustinians, Comerford took special pains to benefit them when the means for so doing came into his hands ; and in order that he might be surrounded by members of the community he loved so well, he bestowed on them the church of St. Catherine and the oratory of the Blessed Virgin, which, in the olden times was a chapel of ease to the cathedral. In the midst of all these solicitudes he was not unmindful of sacred literature, for in his leisure moments he composed a work on polemical theology, and made an accurate transcript of the list of the deans of Waterford from the earliest period. Loved and venerated by his flock and clergy, he was justly styled the most popular bishop then in Ireland, and to confirm his claims to universal respect, the nunzio wrote to Borne that Comerford was a model whom all his colleagues might copy to advantage. This, indeed, is but a shadowy outline of the character of the bishop who impressed Binuccini so favourably, and who had excited the enthusiasm of his people in favour of that personage 218 THE lEISH HIERARCHY IN long before lie set foot in Waterford. Let ns now see what use the nunzio made of the influence he had attained in that city, and for which he was mainly indebted to the eulogies and honest prepossessions of its spiritual chief. It must be premised, however, that, long before Kinuccini’s first appearance in Waterford, a strong faction in the Confe¬ derate council, who were styled the moderate party, resolved to accept a treaty of peace, which lord Ormond had been nego¬ tiating, but which the nunzio and his party determined to to reject, because it did not give ample security for the free and open exercise of the Catholic religion. The moderates, or Ormondists, were fully satisfied with the viceroy’s overtures, but the entire body of the clergy, the Jesuits excepted, and most of the bishops, maintained that they would be unfaithful to the oath of association if they subscribed any treaty or cessa¬ tion of hostilities that did not restore them the churches, with their revenues, and abolish all penal statutes that had been enacted since the apostasy of Henry YIII. Rinuccini was also disposed to insist that the government of Ireland should be committed to a Catholic viceroy —a very reasonable stipula¬ tion, indeed, as the Catholics then, as well as now, formed the majority of the population; but all these propositions were looked upon by lord Ormond’s creatures, who were a strong element in the supreme council, as impracticable and unreason¬ able. Rinuccini, therefore, resolved to crush the latter faction if he could, and, after considering where he might with greatest safety assemble a meeting of the clergy, in order to carry out his intentions, he pitched on Waterford as the place best suited to his purpose. Indeed, the selection of that city proved that he was a man who did not act precipitately or without making amj)le provision for his personal safety, in case the latter might be endangered by the bold and defiant attitude he was about to assume; and surely, there was no spot in the whole island which could offer him greater security than that which Waterford was prepared to afford him. His popularity there had already driven away the herald who came to proclaim lord Ormond’s peace ; Comerford was his most enthusiastic admirer, and most ardently devoted to his policy ; the strong fort of Duncannon, with its Catholic garrison, would shelter him if he needed its protection ; and, finally, his frigate—the San Pietro —rode at anchor in the harbour, and was ready, at a moment’s warning, to carry him off, should any unforeseen accident drive him to that last and most humiliating alternative. Par, however, from apprehending any of those eventualities, the THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 219 nnnzio calculated on triumph, [foryat that moment he was flushed by intelligence of O’Neill’s victory at Benburb, the capture of Bunratty in the south, where he himself took part in the siege operations, and finally, by the success which general Preston had achieved at the head of the Leinster Con¬ federate forces in the west. Leaving Kilkenny and his enemies behind him, Binuccini therefore proceeded to Waterford, and at the synod which met him there the bishops and clergy, with the exception of the religious order already named, declared that the peace to which the Ormondists had consented was null, and that all those who had worked to bring it about, or should sub¬ sequently countenance or adhere to it, were ii )80 facto perjurers and excommunicate. Prom that moment the bishops, with the nunzio at their head, took on them the government of the country, after having by an extra-legal proceeding arrested and committed the abettors of lord Ormond’s peace to the prison of Kilkenny castle, where, as the nunzio tells us, they consoled themselves ‘‘ by toasting the ruin of religion, in flowing bumpers of beer.” Drink, however, and toast as they might, Binuccini’s power, whether for good or for evil, had then attained its culmination, and foremost among the twelve members of the hierarchy who took a leading paid in raising him to such a height and approving his future policy was Patrick Comerford, of Waterford and Lismore. It is almost unnecessary to remark, that notwith¬ standing this temjDorary triumph, the nunzio’s power gradually declined, and that, despite the simulated union between the two generals, O’Neill and Preston, a long series of reverses, the natural consequence of mutual distrust and personal rivalries, attended the government assumed by the congregation of the clergy. Withal, Comerford’s allegiance to Binuccini remained unaltered, and notwithstanding the many attempts made to alienate him from the latter, he continued faithful to him through every phase of his ill-starred mission. Such were the intimate relations that existed between those two personages, and such was the esteem they cherished for each other, that Binuccini passed many months of the year 1647 under Comerford’s roof, where he was entertained with splendid hospitality, and where, we may reasonably suppose, there was no lack of sycophants—for how could such a personage as a nunzio be without them?—to intoxicate him with the perfume of their flattery, and applaud that uncompromising policy in which he persevered to the last. To him, indeed, Waterford, with its religious pomps, devoted bishop, and ad- 220 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN miring inhabitants, was a city of ‘^perfect delight;”'^ and next to it, in his estimation, was that frowning citadel of Duncan- non,t for which he expended such large sums on the purchase of arms and gunpowder, in the full assurance that religion could never be wholly destroyed in Ireland as long as that place was held by an orthodox garrison. Accompanied by Comerford, he was in the habit of paying long and frequent visits, for relaxa¬ tion as well as business, to this his favourite fortress; and, in¬ deed, it would appear that some of the most anxious moments of his life were passed there in 1648, when, as we learn from his own narrative, he spent whole hours sweeping the horizon with a i:)erspective glass fixed in one of the embrasures to catch a glimpse of the ship in which the dean of Fermo was coming to his aid, with specie, ammunition, and fresh instructions from Rome. Having dwelt at such great length on what may be called Comerford’s gwivate life, let us now see how he acted as a public man towards the close of the nunzio’s connection with Ireland. Without recapitulating the history of the latter personage’s proceedings, it may suffice to mention here that early in 1648 lord Inchiquin, actuated by resentment to Lisle, the parlia¬ mentary lord-lieutenant, who had been sent to oust him from his command, changed sides once more, declared for the royal cause, and protested against the further exercise of the nunzio’s power. The supreme council then made a truce with Inchiquin, but as it did not give ample sureties for the freedom of religion, Rinuccini, and a large party of the bishops, comprising those whose appointment was made at his recommendation, set their faces against it. His next step was to summon a synod, as he had already done in 1646, and there, with the concurrence of the majority of the bishops, he pronounced sentence of excom¬ munication against the framers and abettors of the aforesaid truce, and laid under interdict all parts of the kingdom where priests or people would be found to accept it. We have else¬ where told how Preston’s soldiers, who were not excommunicor tion-proof went over to O’Neill’s standard, and how several * On the IStti February, 1647, the nunzio baptized four Mahomedansin the cathedral of Waterford, and committed them to the care of the Fran¬ ciscans of that city .—Rinuccini Rapers. t French, bishop of Ferns, urged the nunzio to fix his residence in Dun- cannon fort, when the Ormondists were about to have the upper hand, llinuccini writes, February 18th, 1648, “Ferns will report to your emi¬ nence that he has advised me to take up my abode in Duncannon, since treason has become universal, owing to intrigues of the malignants.”— Nunziatura, p. 298. “ar*. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 221 cities and many leading personages besought the niinzio and those bishops to whom he had given extraordinary faculties to absolve them from the censures, and how finally the great ma- joiity of the people still adhered to his policy. Nevertheless, the minority proved to be the stronger party, and the division among the bishops paralyzed, if it did not altogether destroy, Rinuccini’s power. The revolted supreme council forbade the people to obey the sentence of excommunication and interdict, and the lay authorities borrowed additional strength from the adhesion of eight bishops, a few of the regular orders, some deeidy read canonists, and the Jesuits, all of whom asserted that the censures were null, as resting on civil matters, and having been published without the sanction of the entire body I of the Irish prelates. In the midst of this conflict of opinions j Rinuccini established himself in Galway, to watch the result of ■; his extreme measures. I Comerford, we need hardly say, adopted his views, and en- foiced the sentence in AA^aterford, where he closed the churches, forbade the celebration of Mass, and all other ministrations,' accoi ding to the strict letter of the interdict. The supreme council, on learning this, summoned him to their presence; but ; on his refusal to comply with their mandate, they wrote ao’ain, de]3recating his conduct in denying the people access to the churches and the consolations of religion, which they purchased with the efiusion of their blood, during a war that had extended over seven years. “Your lordship should remember,” wrote they, “ how the people stood by you in the days of persecution, and how the venerable bishop of Ossory was not so uncharitable as to deprive his people of the use of his churches. You should also bear in mind that, along with the archbishop of Cashel, you pro- j fessed yourself satisfied with the appeal which we have forwarded j to Home, an appeal by which the sentence has been suspended; ! , nor can we account for your conduct otherwise than by ascribing it to your desire of gratifying the ambition of Owen O’Neill^ whom the nunzio patronizes at the instance of the bishop of Clogher. We, therefore, implore you to desist from this violent proceeding, and to give your people free access to the churches, I which were polluted till they had purified them with their 1 blood. Should you, however, persist in your present course, • we have no alternative but to deprive you of your temj^oralities, according to the obligation of your oath, and the laws which were observed here in the most Catholic times.” This letter was subscribed by Lucas Dillon, Robert Lynch, Richard Belling, j Ceiald Rennell, John AYalsh, and Ratrick Brien, all of whom 1 ^99 'i '< THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN were sworn enemies to Riniiccini, partisans of lord Ormond, and active agents in compassing the ruin of Ireland on the arrival of Cromwell. Two days, however, after its delivery, Comerford returned an answer which must have stung these traitors to the quick; for it not only justified his own action, but proved that he was not to be frightened by their threats :— ‘‘I have received yours of the 12 th instant, signifying that you will revoke my temporalities if I insist on enforcing the sentence of interdict in Waterford. I therefore inform you that, on re¬ ceipt of the nunzio’s command, I assembled the most learned of the clergy, secular and regular, and, after mature deliberation, without a single dissentient, we concluded that we were bound, under most grievous penalties, to observe the interdict, not, indeed, from a desire to favour any j^arty or individual, but rather to satisfy our obligation of obedience. 'As to your in¬ sinuation touching what I said about the suspension of the censures by an appeal to Rome, all I can remember is, that I expressed myself then merely in a discursive manner; and as to the model you propose to me in the conduct of the bishop of Ossory, with all deference to that prelate’s deserts, I may ob¬ serve that I have before me the example of other bishops as learned and charitable as he. Great, indeed, as are my obliga- ’ tions to this city, both as its pastor and son, you must bear in mind that there are others equally binding and stringent. As for my temporalities, which you threaten to alienate, all I need say is, that the enemy has anticipated you, for he is already seized of a goodly portion of same; and as for the remainder, it is in the hands of certain noblemen of the confederate council, as I have already notified to you in the return I have forwarded of the revenue of my diocese. But although I were to be stripped, justly or unjustly, of all the world could give, for my submission to the decrees of holy Church, I \yill, nevertheless, persevere in obedience' nor will I cease to pray God that you may well and faithfully guide the councils of the confederates of this kingdom.” This rebuke closed Comerford’s correspondence with the supreme council, nor does it appear that he took any part, by proctor or otherwise, in the proceedings of those bishops, who, steadfast in their adhesion to the nunzio’s policy, strove at Galway, and elsewhere, to maintain the cause of religion and country against Cromwell’s precursors. That he was sorely harassed by Inchiquin, who, with the sanction of his new allies, after reinstating the Puritan ministers in Cloyne and Ross, swept the county of Waterford with fire and sword, because its bishops observed the censures, is quite certain; but, hapjfily THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 223 ■i ^ for him, the fort of Duncaiinon sheltered him within its walls, and enabled him to set at defiance all the stratagems of his enemies. There, indeed, he was secure from Inchiquin’s vio- I lence ; for, notwithstanding all the eflforts which were made by ' Belling and his colleagues to get possession of the place and 1: . the bishop’s person, the garrison could not be bribed or forced . to surrender to them. " Meanwhile, Cromwell appeared before Waterford, in Novem- r ber, 1649, and although the city was but feebly garrisoned by some detachments of Ulster troops, commanded by O’Farrell, j the inhabitants refused admission to a strong force sent to their I: aid by lord Ormond, simply because that nobleman had declared j. against the nunzio and his censures. Nevertheless, the reso- jj lution of the citizens was such, that Cromwell, not wishing to J- lose time, struck his tents, and j)roceeded to invest Uungarvan, while Ireton had to retire from before Duncannon, whfch was ^ then commanded by Wogan, a brave officer, entirely devoted , to the old confederacy. As for Comerford, his conduct at this ' crisis was in every respect consistent; for, while attending j sedulously to the spiritual interests of his people, he did not , fail to exhort them to hold out to the last against the jiarlia- , mentarians, whom he justly characterised as enemies to God and man. As it is not our province to go into a'detail of the incidents connected with the siege of Waterford, or the stout resistance which its inhabitants offered to the Cromwellians, I we must content ourselves with stating that Cromerford’s care I of the people during the ravages of the plague was, in every I sense, worthy of his zeal and pastoral devotedness. Though ‘i feeble and worn out by anxiety, he was ever ready to minister I , _ lu y and his pecuniary resources, then j indeed very slender, were always at the service of the poor j and sick. At length, when the city had to yield to Ireton, I whose unmerciful character was even then proverbial, Comer- ford, knowing what fate awaited him if he remained in Ireland, embarked for St. Malo, where he arrived towards the close of August, 1650. After residing two years in that seaport, he ultimately removed to Nantes, where he closed his mortal I career on the 10th of March, 1652, at the ripe age of sixty-six. 1 His remains were interred, with great pomp, in the magnificent cathedral dedicated to St. Peter, and, seven years afterwards, P his friend and colleague, Bobert Barry, bishop of Cork, was laid in the same sepulchre.'^ * For two most interesting^ letters from Comerford to Wadding and F. Callinan, Hector of Irish College, Home .—See Appendix Hr. i . * ■ I ‘I . , 224 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN CHAPTER VIII. When Rinuccini arrived in Ireland he found several sees vacant, and his first and chiefest care was to have them filled. The candidates were proposed to him by the supreme council of the Confederates, and he recommended them for appointment by Innocent X., selecting those who were remarkable for their attachment to his own policy, and their devotion to the apos¬ tolic see. Towards the close of 1647, the bulls nominating the new prelates arrived from Rome, for the most part in accord¬ ance with his recommendation, although the archbishopric of Tuam, as we have seen, was given to He Burgh, whose political views were of the moderate order, and shaped by those of lord Clanricarde, his kinsman and chief of his name. The bishops, as a matter of course, took their places in the legislative as¬ sembly, and were admitted to vote in the right of their sees, and, indeed, there were only three excepted from this estab¬ lished usage—the most remarkable of whom was Boetius Egan, bishop of Ross, whose right to sit in the supreme council was questioned, as he had been appointed without the consent of the lay-lords ; some of whom refused to advance to their tem¬ poralities the prelates for whom the nunzio postulated ; but as the other bishops already in possession protested against such interference, the objection was overruled, not, however, without a stormy debate among the canon lawyers, who were always armed with countless precedents of rights and privileges vested in the English crown centuries before the sixteenth century schism. Rinuccini set little value on such special pleading; and far from admitting that either the king or his representa¬ tives in the supreme council had any inlierent right to nominate to bishoprics or benefices, he scouted all their pretensions, alleging that such right, although recognised in Catholic times, had been forfeited by heresy, and consequently reverted to the apostolic see; and that he, in his capacity of nunzio and rep¬ resentative of the sovereign pontiflf, was empowered to pro¬ nounce on the fitness of the candidates independently of the primate and the whole body of the Irish hierarchy. In order, however, to reconcile the ultra loyal members of the supreme council to his views, he told them that in case king Charles became a Catholic, the holy see would recognise his just claims, and adopt a course of action that would meet all their wishes. Till then, however, he would not abate a tittle of what he con- THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 225 sicleied to bo tlie ©xclusive right of ItoixLO, or enter into nny , compromise with those who were meddling in matters which were not of their competence. It is needless to observe, that I no member of the supreme council entertained the hypothesis I of the king’s conversion, and they therefore abandoned the con- I troversy about the royal veto. [ Towards the close of 1645, Rinuccini was informed that James O’Hiirly, bishop of Emly, had fallen into bad health; so much so, that it was absolutely necessary to provide him with a coadjutor. This infirm and aged prelate, a member of the order of St. Dominic, had made his religious profession ' before the altar of the ancient and once sj^lendid monastery of Kilmallock,* and after completing his studies in Spain, was I raised to the see of Emly, 1641. His tenure of the episcopate was comparatively brief; and all that we have been able to , learn concerning his character is, that, like the generality of , his order, he was distinguished for learning and zeal. His M illness, it would appear, was protracted; for it is quite certain ’ that he did not die till some time in August, 1646, that is to j say twelve months after the nunzio’s arrival in Ireland. The I wish of the dying prelate was, that his place might be filled by another Dominican; and the nunzio being of the same mind, VTote to Rome, recommending Terence Albert O’Brien, pro¬ vincial of the order in Ireland, as a j^erson eminently qualified for the coadjutorship, and to succeed O’Hurly whenever the I’ death of the latter might occur. Three months, however, after he had despatched that recommendation, he wrote again to , Rome in favour of William Burgat,t vicar-general of Emly, for whose appointment to the coadjutorship, it seems, many of the bishops were then extremely desirous ; but their memorial, although subscribed by the nunzio, was not entertained. Bur- gat, however, had the satisfaction of being allowed to retain the vicar-generalship ; and of being advanced, when O’Hurly died, to the more responsible dignity of vicar-apostolic, pending ^ the vacancy of the see. It seems strange, indeed, that the recommendation of the nunzio failed to jirocure his elevation il^ to the mitre ; but this may be easily accounted for, if we bear |j in mind that the pope’s representative looked with suspicion on II all candidates proposed to him by the supreme council. As a I matter of course, he forwarded to Rome the memorial signed * * Founded A.D. 1291, by the mite Knight. O’Hurly, who is described II as ‘‘ Vir doctus et eximie religiosus ” was an alumnus of this convent and jij m his mature years its sub-prior and prior. itj f See Appendix S s. 226 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN by the bishops and temporal peers, praying that Bnrgat would be appointed ; but although he stated that he was personally acquainted with the candidate, and knew him to be equal to the requirements of a bishop ; nevertheless, he was chary of praise, and his recommendation lacked that warmth and colour¬ ing, without which he was well aware it could not possibly succeed. It would, however, be a gross injustice to the nunzio’s memory, to suppose that he was capable of playing a double part; but it must be admitted that his conduct in the particular instance at which we have glanced, as well as in many others of a similar nature, proves him to have been weakminded, and somewhat inconstant—in fact one of those who are as sensitive to first impressions as they are quick to efface them, on dis¬ covering that they are nothing but shadow, surface, and outline. This peculiarity might have been a defect of temperament, and therefore pardonable ; but the traits which rendered his cha¬ racter unamiable, and gave umbrage to the frank and buoyant Irish, with whom he was constantly in contact, were frigid reserve, formal manners, immobility under most exciting cir¬ cumstances, and perpetual anxiety to mystify all his projects, in the hope of producing effects which he meant to be sudden and striking; but which, when realized, far from startling or amazing, proved to be nothing more than ordinary results of a plodding brain. We may also add that he lacked decision, treated friend and foe with the same impassibility, and allowed all suitors to leave his presence with a conviction that he in¬ terested himself in their schemes and aspirations, while in reality he had little or no sympathy with anything that did not bear directly on the object of his mission. This estimate of Rinuccini’s character, far from being fanci¬ ful or over-coloured, is, on the whole, faithful, and, indeed, nothing less than a reproduction of the portrait made of him by Belling, who was his companion on the memorable voyage from Rochelle to Kenmare, and had ample opportunity during the three years of the nunziature to make himself acquainted with his inner and outward man. Justice, however, persuades us to acknowledge that Belling’s was no loving hand, and this reflection might lead us to conclude that the charge of incon¬ stancy and want of decision was invented, if we had not from the nunzio’s own pen ample evidence to show that the broad shadowing of his picture was nowise exaggerated. Pretermit- ting many passages of his letters, which would not be pertinent here, we need only repeat that, on his arrival in Ireland, he urged the holy see to appoint Terence Albert O’Brien to the THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURV. 227 . coadjutorship of Emly, and that in three months afterwards he postulated in behalf of Burgat, who, he said, was fully qualified for the dignity; and, finally, after the lapse of six months, he wrote agam to Borne, to have Burgat superseded, and O’Brien I precomzed in his stead. The holy see, however, had already : anticipated the latter recommendation, for although Binuccini ft may have been ignorant of the fact, or wished to keep it a ! secret, ^ O Brien’s elevation to the diocese of Emly had been , determined in the last year of the pontificate of Urban YIII, i that IS to say, in 1644. Burgat, indeed, might have proved as ! good a bishop as O’Brien, but the biography of the latter forbids j us to suppose that he could have been excelled as a true and L eminently distinguished patriot. , ^ Terence^ Albert O’Brien was born in the year 1600, in the city of Limerick, of parents who were said to trace their descent from the princes of Thomond; but be that as it may I he was destined to refiect fresh lustre on the historic name he 1 bore, and to maintain its honour and integrity at a period when others ^ of the same ancient race were degrading it by j treason to religion and country. While yet a child he received ; the earliest rudiments of education from his pious mother, and ' priest who found constant welcome and protection in his fathers mansion, and who, in all likelihood, was the first , with the notion of devoting himself to the ministry. ^ As he grew to boyhood the desire struck deeper root in his heart, and^ he lost no time in placing himself in ^ communication with his uncle, Maurice O’Brien, who was then prior of the Dominican convent of his native city. The uncle ^ was not slow in seconding the lad’s wishes, and he accordingly ^ had him received into the poor novitiate of the friars preachers —for we need hardly say that the monastery of St. Saviour, founded in the thirteenth century, by Donat O’Brien, had lono- ^ shared the fate of the other religious houses in Munster. Bather Maurice was a tender tutor to the young aspirant during ^ the probationary term, and at its close he had the satisfaction . ot seeing him duly admitted— i- , j. “ One of the lambs of that blest flock ! “ Which Dominic so leads in righteous ways; I Si words, a professed member of the order of preachers. I le priors next care was to j)rovide for his nephew^s philo- ! ■ % 4 II 11 I ii * Dante, “ Paradiso.” 228 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN sopliical and- theological education, and in order to perfect hini in these sciences, he sent hini to the convent of St. Peter Martyr, at Toledo, where there was then a vacancy for an Irish student. Young O’Brien accordingly set out for the far-famed city of unrivalled swords, the seat of the Spanish metropolitan, and arrived there just as he had entered his twentieth year. The Dominican school of Toledo was then one of the most renowned in Spain, and the professors who filled its various chairs were far-famed for their erudition in every department of knowledge. Under such able masters, it was only natural to expect that one gifted with the genius and earnestness of purpose which had fallen to young O’Brien’s share, would make rapid progress, not only in the Aristotelian philosophy, which St. Thomas of Aquino had reduced to regular system, but also in the “Summa of Theology,” which for many centuries had been recognized as the grand code of Latin Christianity, embodying all the moral and dogmatic doctrines of the Church. It is to be regretted that we have only few and spare allusions to O’Brien’s collegiate career; but such as have come under our notice warrant us in believing that he distinguished himself as a student, and proved to his Castilian teachers that he pos¬ sessed an intellect to which the fine distinctions and subtle definitions of the angelic doctor were nowise impalpable. At length, after having passed eight years in the cloister of St. Peter’s, he was ordained priest, and as the exigencies of the Irish mission were then pressing, his superiors commanded him to lose no time in preparing for the homeward journey. Sad must have been the leave-taking when he bade adieu to the good fathers of St. Peter’s, and looked his last on the Alcazar and towers of Toledo’s rich cathedral—sad, no doubt, must have been his farewells as he turned from the banks of the Tagus towards those of the Shannon ; but what would they have been had some angel’s hand lifted the veil that mercifully hid the future from his eyes 1 On arriving in Ireland, the scene of his first mission was Limerick, where he abode with the Dominican fathers in a house which they rented in the city, and where they lived in community as well as the circumstances of the times allowed. It was a period of peril to all priests, but to those of the re¬ ligious orders especially; for Falkland,* the lord deputy, was then enforcing the penal enactments, and racking, and other- * See Appendix T t. • THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUKY. 229 , wise torturing various priests, supposed to be emissaries from the son of the late earl of Tyrone, who, if rumour could be be¬ lieved, was preparing to invade Ireland from Flanders. That the apprehension of the government in regard to this business I was puiely affected, is quite certain : but lord Falkland made it a pretext for setting a strict watch on such of the clergy as he imagined were corresponding with their brethren in Spain, or p elsewhere beyond seas. We can, therefore, conceive with what r cil’cumspection the priests, secular and regular, had to act in ‘ oidei to be able to discharge their duty to the people, and avoid ! the suborned delators, who were ever on the alert for the wao-e j,: of their infamy. Strange, however, as it may appear, the j. government at that period did not entertain so virulent a ^ hatied for the Irish Dominicans as it did for the Franciscans, ! and consequently the former were allowed to enjoy a comjiara- tive freedom of action. This, indeed, may seem anomalous, but ^ it will cease to be so, if we remember that the Franciscans were j, the most numerous of all the religious orders then in Ireland, ■: and the most notorious for their adhesion to Tyrone and O’Don- j nell during the late war. We may also observe, that the Irish I ■chieftains emjiloyed the Franciscans as their agents at foreign courts, patronised them as their annalists, and selected their churches in Valladolid, as well as in Home, for their place of sepulture. The Dominicans, on the other hand, took no de¬ monstrative part in the transactions to which we have alluded j and this single circumstance may account for the toleration ex¬ tended to them by Falkland and some of his predecessors. Availing himself, therefore, of the opportunities which were 1 thus afforded him for doing good, father O’Brien settled down ; in the little convent at Limerick, where, with the rest of his j. brethren, he toiled through many dreary years in the quiet j performance of the duties which belonged to his calling. Affable I and^ unaffected, he was universally esteemed for every good li attribute, but above all for that true modesty which has ever been the distinctive mark of steady heads and great souls. ' Carefully eschewing notoriety—that despicable ambition of I, vulgar minds he spent his time as became a true son of St. I Dominic, labouring for the preservation of the faith, inculcating I its morality, dispensing its blessings, and proving, however un¬ it consciously, that he was a living commentary on the holy rule ij, he professed. Most marked, indeed, was the contrast between , 1 . the humble chapel of the Limerick convent and those splendid ; temples of Toledo where he had passed his youth; but if the poverty and simidicity of the former ever caused him a regret. 230 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN he assuredly had wherewith to console him, when he reflected that the highest eflbrts of human genius could produce no orna¬ ment so worthy of God’s house as that true piety and faith of which he was a daily witness, and which his precept and ex¬ ample kept alive and active in willing hearts. The deplorable absence of all documents, manuscript as well as printed, relating to the Dominican community at Limerick, during the sixteen years father O’Brien spent there, must account for our silence anent that long interval, which we may easily conjecture, could not have passed without incidents and episodes of thrill¬ ing interest. Fortunately, however, there is evidence to prove that his abilities, zeal, and prudence were duly valued by his su¬ periors at home and abroad; so much so, that he was twice elected prior of his native convent, after having already held the same office in that of Lorragh.* But a far more responsible dignity was reserved for him in 1643, when the Dominican chapter assembled in the church of the Trinity f at Kilkenny, unani¬ mously elected him their provincial. A short time previously he had seen his native city identify itself with the Confederates, and we may readily imagine with what feelings of gratitude he and the other members of his order must have regarded the men who restored to them that splendid temple, which William Marshall, earl of Pembroke, in 1225, erected for the honour of God, and as a last resting place for his mortality. Towards the close of 1643, Father O’Brien was called to Borne, to assist at a general chapter of the Dominicans, which was held in the following year, when many ordinances were decreed for the better government of the Irish province, and the revival of the order in Ireland, where it had suffered so terribly during the persecutions of Elizabeth and James I. The Acts of this chapter, indeed, throw some light on the state of the Irish Church at the period, and it is only reasonable to sup¬ pose that we are indebted to O’Brien for the valuable information they contain. As provincial, he must have been consulted by the general on all matters afiecting the order in Ireland ; and, doubtless, it was he who, when a question was raised about * A village in the Barony of Lower Ormond where Walter De Burgh, earl of Ulster, and lord of Connaught, founded a monastery for Domi¬ nicans, A.D. 1269. t Vulgarly called The Black Ahhey, recently restored by the Dominican fathers. The earl of Pembroke was buried in its choir, 1231. De Burgo, (Hib. Dom. p. 205,) says that it was in a most ruinous condition when he was writing, and adds, that five Dominican bishops of Ossory were in¬ terred within its precincts. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 231 ^ precedency between the Irish priors, decided the point by a quotation from an ancient manuscript, preserved in the works of sir James Ware. In fact, there can be little doubt that the I council was mainly guided by Father O’Brien’s judgment in ' all its decisions regarding ‘'Dominican Ireland;” for, assuredly, there was no Irishman then present better qualified to deal with subjects of such importance. We may also remark, that n his inspirations are clearly perceptible in the projected revival i of Dominican schools in Dublin, Limerick, Cashel, Athenry, I and Coleraine ; and also in those decrees which have special , reference to the Irish Dominican institutions for men and . women in Lisbon. It was he, doubtless, who moved that the i, votive ofierings made to the far-famed miraculous image of the jj Blessed Virgin at Youghal, should be applied to the use of the I Dominican convent of that town ; and we may further state that it was he who recommended that the convent of St. Peter’s Cell, in Limerick, should be confirmed to dame Catherine || Duggan, and the other ladies who resided with her there. These few facts show that the council entertained profound respect for Father O’Brien’s wisdom and experience; and, in¬ deed, the general of the order was so thoroughly convinced of his deserts, that he would not suffer him to leave Borne with¬ out some sensible mark of his appreciation. He, therefore, sanctioned the decree which raised O’Brien to a mastership in theology, and further enhanced this honour by appointing him judge in Munster, with ample powers to decide all contro¬ versies that might arise regarding the ancient limits and boundaries of the Dominican convents in that province, t As soon as the council terminated its sessions, O’Brien set out for Lisbon, to visit the Dominican houses which had been I founded in that city by O’Daly, who was then engaged on his “ History of the Geraldines,” a work, we may observe, which is the best that has yet appeared on the subject of which it i treats. Would to heaven that O’Daly had left us a fuller ' biography of his friend, for, indeed, the notices he has given of 'f him in the “ Persecutions,” are meagre and most unsatisfactory. O Daly, however, could not have foreseen the fate that was re- j served for O’Brien, or assuredly he would have taken more pains to acquaint himself with all the particulars of his family j, and early life. i About the middle of July, 1644, while O’Brien was still in I Lisbon, intelligence from Borne led his friends to believe that ifc was the intention of Urban VIII. to advance him to the coadjutorship of Emly ; and, indeed, this announcement seemed 232 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN SO reliable, tliat lie at once set out for Ireland, to take part in the election of his successor in the provincialate. There can be little doubt that pope Urban did mean to have him consecrated bishop, but as his holiness died in the very month the nomina¬ tion is said to have been made, the bulls were not despatched ; and O’Brien’s promotion was consequently postponed, and did not take place before the third year of the pontificate of Inno¬ cent X. To difier with such a high authority as the learned Ue Burgo, on a matter-of-fact, may appear rash or presumptuous, but the documentary evidence on which our statement rests, is too well authenticated to leave any doubt that that most re¬ verend personage was mistaken as to the date of O’Brien’s consecration. On his return to Ireland, O’Brien fixed his residence in the convent of Limerick, where, as provincial and prior, he exerted himself indefatigably for the interests of his order, which had recently gained a large accession to its members from Borne, Louvain, and other places on the continent. The state of Ire¬ land at the period called for this influx, for it was looked upon as the fitting time for the reconstruction of all those vene- able corporations which had been scattered by the sword of persecution during the two preceding reigns. Now, however, a notable change had come over the entire island. The greater part of it was in the power of the Confederates, who led the re¬ ligious orders to believe that they should be speedily repossessed of their suppressed monasteries, and probably of a good portion of their lands, for which some of the lay-impropriators were disposed to compound. The people, it need hardly be told, were delighted at the prospect that unfolded itself to their imaginings; for they flattered themselves that they would soon exchange their inexorable lay-tyrants for ecclesiastical land¬ lords, who, in all ages, were proverbially the best and most indulgent. It was only natural that a man of O’Brien’s ardent temperament should have shared the general enthusiasm; nay, and persuaded himself that the religious communities were on the eve of being redeemed for ever from the trammels of those sanguinary laws which had heretofore doomed them to death and expatriation. May we not, therefore, suppose that he counted on seeing his own order re-established, its grand old sanctuaries restored to their rightful owners, and the youth of the land frequenting Dominican schools, as they did in those days when the friars-preachers built the first bridge across the Liffey for the convenience of their scholars'? At that moment, indeed, the course of events was calculated to confirm his belief THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 233 i' i ill these forecastings ; and if it ever occurred to him that they I Avere nothing more than pleasing illusions, surely all misgivings ! must have vanished when he heard that a high minister from I the holy see had already landed on the Irish coast, bringing with him arms, specie, and munitions for the encouragement and maintenance of the confederate Catholics. !. Although Hinuccini’s correspondence does not mention the ; fact, there is every reason to suppose that father O’Brien was i present at the grand reception given to that personage on his I arrival in Limerick ; nor can we doubt that he assisted at I another solemnity that took place there, when the nunzio, ac- y companied by Walsh, archbishop of Cashel, the clergy, secular and regular, and the entire garrison, walked to St. Mary’s, to 1 give God thanks for the signal defeat which the Scotch cove- p nanters had sustained at Benburb.* All Limerick was astir |j on this occasion, and the nunzio himself tells us that even the ,, windows were filled with groups anxious to get a sight of the i j tattered banners that were wrested from the covenanters on the ! ', victorious field. How could the provincial of the Dominicans j and prior of Limerick be absent at a moment of such thrilling j solemnity? A few days afterwards there was a display of a similar character in the streets of the ancient city, when the nunzio again went to St. Mary’s, to chaunt Te Deum for the fall of Bunratty,t where he himself directed the siege operations, and * See Owen Eoe’s letter from the battle-field in Appendix U w. I t Bryan O’Brien, sixth earl of Thomond,was persuaded by his wife, who thought the king’s cause desperate, to surrender Bunratty to the Parlia- ' mentarians in March, 1646. He then removed to his town residence in Limerick, which he found occupied by the Poor Clares, to whom it was ; • given by the Supreme Council in consequence of his defection and I. disloyalty. Writing to his brother, the nunzio says, “I have no hesita- i tion in asserting that Bunratty is the most beautiful spot I have ever I seen. In Italy there’s nothing like the palace and grounds of the lord I, Thomond—nothing like its ponds, and park, with its 3,000 head of II deer.” IMassari, in a letter to the same nobleman, speaks of the castle and [ its site as the most delightful place he had seen in Ireland. “Nothing,” he says, “ could he more beautiful, and the palace is fit for an emperor.” The Puritan garrison counted 2,000 men, and the commanders of the he- . siegers were lord Muskerry, Alexander MacDonnell, and Donogh O’Cal- j laghan, of Clonmeen. The nunzio appeared in the camp on the 1st July, and on the 13th the Confederate assault was crowned with success. The J Parliamentarians escaped to Cork, and the port of Limerick was happily relieved of the blockade. The Irish had abundant spoil, furniture of the most costly character, and silver plate. “ A young man,” says the . 'editor of the JRinuccini Papers, “ very remarkable for his comeliness and stature, who distinguished himself in many sorties, was wounded by one of ^ ours with a spear thrust in the throat. We had him conveyed to Limerick, I 234 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN father Collins, a Dominican, crucifix in hand, led the storming party to the breach, and drove the enemy out of their entrench¬ ments. The acquisition of this place was a matter of great moment to the Confederates, and as its capture was in some measure due to a simple Dominican priest, it is more than likely that his provincial did not absent himself from the solemnity which Rinuccini caused to be observed in honour of such an important event. As the foregoing notices of father O’Brien are at best only conjectural, we now turn to others that are beyond the reach of all doubt and cavil. We have already said that he was not consecrated in 1644, as De Burgo and O’Daly would have us believe, and this assertion is fully borne out by the nunzio,who, in a letter dated Kilkenny, January 1st, 1646, writes thus :— Bather Terence, provincial of the Dominicans, is a man of prudence and sagacity. He has been in Italy, has had consider¬ able experience; and the bishop who wishes to have him for his coadjutor is, I am told, in very feeble health.” Eight months after the date of that letter, that is to > say, in August, 1646, when the bishop of Emly was on the point of death, the nunzio again wrote to Rome, recommending various candidates for dioceses that were then either vacant or about to be so, and among others, he distinctly names O’Brien, “as one who de¬ served the highest advancement Rome could bestow, and whose claims and qualifications were duly set forth in a memorial which the clergy had forwarded in his favour.” The answer, however, did not reach Ireland till October, 1647, when Rinuc- cini had the satisfaction of learning that the holy see sanctioned O’Brien’s promotion, and that of the other candidates for whom he was interested. O’Brien’s consecration was solemnized in the following Kovember, but we confess our inability to name the church where the ceremony was performed. It is certain,. where he made his will, and bequeathed a sum of money to the man who dealt him the mortal blow. The unfortunate youth’s name was Wocles; he was a native of Tralee, and of English parentage. After parading the ten stand of yellow silk colours, taken at Bunratty, through the streets of Limerick, solemn Mass was sung in the Church of the Augustinians, and the clergy began to reconcile the other temples of the city.” On the 27th of August, when news of this victory reached Lome, Wadding wrote to the nunzio thus :—“ What! the most illustrious Rinuccini in the camp I In a clay hut I The nunzio transformed into a general! Who would have thought of such a fact ? Could he himself have foreseen it ? But God’s cause demanded this ; verily the finger of God is here. Led by a general so sanctified, God will give strength and power to his people.’ Bor the original Latin, see Appendix X x. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 235 however, that the nunzio acted as consecrating prelate on the occasion j and there is some reason to believe that the function took place in Kilkenny, either in the grand old Dominican church, or in the cathedral of St. Canice. Having now attained the dignity to which he was well en¬ titled, O Brien lost no time in taking possession of his see, and making provision for the flock committed to his charge. But the condition of his people at that period was truly deplorable, and the wild raids of the renegade Inchiquin aflbrded him little opportunity for tending his diocese as he would fain have done. The victory of Conoc-na-noss* fought 13th November, 1647, made Inchiquin absolute master of nearly all Munster for a while, and no part of it suflered so j fearfully as the district lying west of Cashel. Brief space, therefore, had the bishop for repairing and reconciling the dis- , * Sir Alaster Mac-Donell, after killing with his own hand four of the j enemy, was treacherously slain while parleying with his captors. The 1- looked on him as one of the most distinguished soldiers of his time : — Ausma dicere Alexandrum militem tunc praestantissimum sed etiam j vix or hem terrarum in nostra memoria peperisse similem.” His remains i piously interred by Donogh O’Callaghan of Clonmeen in his own j laxmly sepulchre—“Alexandri corpus ad suas aedes in vicinio positas, transportandum curavit nobilissimus Dynasta, O’Callaghacanus, et in ' majorum suorum sepulchro sepelivit.” AN EPITAPH ON SIP, ALEXANDER MAC-DONELL, Lieutenant-Oenerall of the forces in Munster. Stout Machabee from whom the double ty Of zeall and of unbounded loyaltie To early for us, on too black a day Inforo’d the tribut which we all must pay. Whyle thy sterne countenance and stronge arme press’d The fates, but for a single interest. Like lightning captiv’d fortune shott her smyles, J To waite on thee through Scotland and her lies; But when Ood added his, his cause and call Brought further merit to Mac-Donell’s fall. And here he ends thus these two kingdoms mourne That share the honour of his birth and borne. I Great prodigie of valour sent to engage Man to beleeve that in some former age f There have been heroes to these threadde of thee Not clothed as yet in immortalitie. I here do sacrifice these humble teares The emblem of the black my sad heart wears. , —Binuccini Fapers. 236 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN mantled and desecrated cliurclies; and as Inchiquin hated the nunzio, we may readily conceive Avith what feelings he must have regarded a prelate who, though of his own name and race, was devotedly and zealously attached to the policy of the Italian. Nevertheless, O’Brien did all he could for his poor flock, ex¬ horting them to patience and endurance under their hard trials, and labouring as well as the circumstances of the times allowed to keep the faith alive and active in their hearts. It is needless to observe, that in performing these duties he exposed himself to great risk, and had to be constantly on his guard against Inchiquin’s followers, many of whom, like their chief, were traitors to creed and country. Withal, he did his work earnestly and efficiently, breaking the bread of life to the young and old on the hill-sides and in the glens, till the Ulster Irish, under Owen O’Neill, came down on the plains of Munster, drove Inchiquin before them, and placed the Catholics once more in possession of their churches. Triumphs such as these, however, were short lived ; and the reverses that followed in quick succes¬ sion compelled the pastor to leave his flock in charge of a vicar, while he himself was absent at Kilkenny, advocating the nunzio’s policy, condemning the truce with Inchiquin, and approving that fatal recourse to excommunication and interdict against all abettors of that unsatisfactory measure. Antici¬ pating the consequences of this proceeding, the nunzio fled to Galway, to watch the course of events, and make prepara¬ tions for his departure from the scene of his ill-starred mis¬ sion.* Meanwhile, lord Ormond returned to Ireland, resumed the government, and intimated that the nunzio must leave the kingdom with all possible speed. As for Ormond, some of the bishops, French, of Ferns; O’Dwyer, of Limerick; and John, archbishop of Tuam, hailed his arrival as the harbinger of a new era, and employed all their logic to convince their colleagues that the salvation of Ireland could not be eflected till it accepted his dictatorship, or, in other Avords, submitted itself to his * The nunzio's guide and friend on this as well as on very many other occasions was Terence Coghlan, proprietor of large estates in the barony of Garycastle, King’s County. “This man’s prudence and abstinence from politics,’’ says Einuccini, “ endeared him to all parties, and I took great pleasure in conferring with him, because I found him devotedly at¬ tached to the Catholic religion.’’ Coghlan’s estates, forfeited by the Cromwellian government and partially restored in 1666, were again for¬ feited after the Boyne, and sold to the Hollow Sword-Blade Company. Terence’s will was executed 1st April, 1653, about which time he was buried in Clonmacnoise. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 237 i j, guidance. It was deemed expedient, therefore, to get up a I congratulatory address embodying this sentiment; and the prelates we have named wrote to Walsh, archbishop of Cashel, Comerford, of Waterford, and O’Brien, of Emly, inviting them to Kilkenny, to take part in the proceedings, which, as was alleged, had already been approved at Borne. O’Brien obeyed the summons; but on finding that the projected address was not autborized by the holy see, he made his escape from Kil¬ kenny, and set out for Galway, to give the unfortunate nunzio ‘ the last proof of his unaltered allegiance. He was not destined, however, to have that melancholy satisfaction, for on arriving ' at a village within three miles of Galway, word was brought him that the “ San Pietro ” had come round from Waterford, I and sailed with the nunzio and his suite for the coast of France. ! What could O’Brien do but wish his friend and patron a fair , wind to waft him on his way, and keep him clear of the parlia- j mentary ships that were then cruising in the Irish waters under j the command of the notorious Plunket 1 • Notwithstanding all the difficulties that beset him for his I devotedness to Binuccini’s policy, O’Brien returned to his dio- j cese soon after the former had taken his departure, and re¬ mained there toiling for his flock until May, 1650, when the progress of the Cromwellians compelled him to return to Gal¬ way. At that period Munster was a scene of desolation and carnage, and among those who sealed their loyalty with their blood was Boetius Egan,* bishop of Boss, heretofore diffinitor- general of the Franciscans, whom the nunzio first met in Drum- secane, on his journey to Limerick. Boetius Egan was a native of Duhallow, in the county of Cork, and when very young took the habit in the Franciscan , monastery of Louvain, where he was the contemporary and i friend of Colgan, Fleming, and other great men, whose names are famous in Irish literature. Having distinguished himself j' in all academic attainments, he was ordained priest, and sent l^ack to Ireland many years before the insurrection of 1641. He was appointed chaplain-general to the Ulster army, was present at Benburb, where he pronounced absolution over the k kneeling battalions before they went into action; and when ■I victory crowned the latter, Owen Boe commissioned bim to t carry the banners taken from Munroe’s Scots to the nunzio, ■j then in Limerick. The nunzio esteemed him highly ; thought him the fittest man for the see of Boss ; and despite the opposi- * ScQ Appendix Y y. 238 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN tion of Muskerry and others of lord Ormond’s partizans, had him consecrated in 1648. The Ormondists were loud in their outcries against his advancement, strove to withhold from him the temporalities of his see, and did their utmost to deprive him of a seat in the assembly, on the plea that the pope could confer no temporary barony in Ireland, All this clamour, how¬ ever, was overruled by Rinuccini and the Irish bishops, and Boetius Egan accordingly took his place in the senate. As matter of course, he remained unshaken in his fidelity to the nunzio, seconded all his views, and endeavoured to have them carried out in his diocese. His tenure of the episcopate was brief indeed ; for when the Cromwellians had overrun Carberry, he was obliged to betake himself to the fastnesses of Kerry, where David Boche, had cantoned some six or seven hundred confederate soldiers. Along with this force the bishop marched into the county Cork, and on the first of May, 1650, just as the vanguard had reached Macroom, lord Broghill attacked and routed it, and made the bishop prisoner. Broghill, we need hardly say, was a merciless scoundrel; for although he had pledged his word that no harm should be done the captive pre¬ late, he, nevertheless, caused him to be hanged with the reins of his horse, on a hill overlooking Carrigadrohid, and there left his remains till they were removed, at dead of night, by some commiserating peasants, who buried them in the ancient ceme¬ tery of Aghina.* In August of the same year, 1650, O’Brien acted with those prelates who, after repudiating lord Ormond, and insisting on the appointment of Clanricarde as viceroy, sent a deputation to the duke of Lorraine, offering him the protectorate of Ireland, on certain conditions, which, as we have seen in a former paper, were never realised. He then returned to his diocese, and after a brief sojourn there, made his way to Limerick, just as Ireton was marching on that doomed city. As the history of the siege is too well known to need repeti¬ tion here, our notices must be limited to such passages as have special reference to the bishop of Emly, whose conduct during that six months’ memorable struggle was honourable and heroic to the last. In the midst of the pestilence which carried off five thousand citizens, he proved himself a man of zeal and * The editor of the Einuccini Papers styles him a “ veritable Seraph of the Seraphic order, and most glorious martyr; ” ordinis seraphici diffinitor generalis vere seraphicus, et gloriosissimus martyr_ Rinuccini Papers, V. 2. fob 887. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 239 4 I !: I I I 4 'Charity, and in the council chamber, where a clique of traitors from time to time insisted on the necessity of capitulating, he protested energetically against all accommodation with Ireton. It has been said that the latter offered him a large sum of money, with freedom to go where he liked, provided he induced the garrison to lay down them arms and surrender; but although such assertion may be 'gratuitous, there are instances enough to show that he was as true as he was uncompromisino'. O’Dwyer, bishop of Limerick, and Walsh, archbishop of Cashel* "walls durin^ the siege, but neither of them acted the brave and manly part which earned for O’Brien the inexorable hostility of Ireton. The two former dio-nitaries indeed, laboured unsparingly in the pest-house for the^spiritual comfort of the plague-stricken, and in the hospitals, which were crowded by soldiers mortally wounded; but O’Brien, instead of confining himself to hospital or pest-house, made the ram¬ parts the scene of his charity, and there, like cardinal X!imenes, -and ^ other warrior prelates, with whose history his Spanish studies made him acquainted, he acted the double role of priest -and soldier, encouraging the faint-hearted, and absolvino- the dying as the plague slew them at his feet. ^ It must also be i ecorded to his honour, that he sternly opposed Ireton’s proposals from first to last, and did his utmost to convince the council of war that the city had abundant re¬ sources to sustain a more protracted siege; and, finally, that approaching winter, dearth, and infection must compd the parliamentarian general to break up his camp, and retire from before the walls. The divisions, however, that grew rife in the town, and above all, the treason of Fennell, whose life major-general O’Neill so unwisely spared at Clonmel, marred all his patriotic efforts, and gave Limerick to Ireton. The latter as might be expected, could not but regard O’Brien as his mortal and persistent enemy, and, notwithstanding all nego¬ tiations which were attempted in his behelf, nothing could in¬ duce the parliamentarian general to include' him in^the list of those who were “received to pardon.” Knowing the fate that was in reserve for him when the city suiiendeied, O Brien retired to the pest-house, not, indeed, for the purpose of secreting himself, as has been commonly thouo’ht, but rather that he might devote the last moments of his life to the benefit of his suffering fellow-citizens, and prejiare himself for death. The ofiicers who were charged with his arrest found him thus employed, and they instantly conducted him to the head-quarters of Ireton, who told him that he was to be tried 240 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN by a court-martial, and imprisoned till sentence was found. O’Brien heard this without moving a muscle; and when Iretoii demanded did he want counsel, he calmly replied, that all he required was his confessor. This boon was granted, and father Hanrahan, a member of his own order, was suffered to pass the whole day and night of the 30th October with him in his prison cell. On the following evening the finding of the court was announced to him, as he lay stripped on a pallet, and the officer charged with this lugubrious duty gave him to understand that the sentence was to be carried out on the instant. On hearing this he got up to dress himself, but, before he had time to do so, the provost-marshal’s guard pinioned his arms and thrust him out of the cell almost in a state of nudity. It was only natural that his fine sense of delicacy should resent this cruel insult, but findinsf that all remonstrances were lost on the ruffians who surrounded him, he paused an instant, as if to collect himself, and said, in a solemn tone, that “ the time was not distant when Ireton should stand before God’s tribunal to account for his bloody deeds.” Surely they must have jeered him as a prophet of evil ! It was a long way from the prison to the place of execution, and as the escoil proceeded it was encountered at every step by sights more appalling than that of a man going to the gallows. For two days previously Ireton’s troops had been allowed to pillage and slay as they chose, and there was hardly a house that did not bear witness to their fierce licentiousness. Windows shattered, doors wrenched from the hinges, corpses of men and women lying stark in the kennels, wares of every sort scattered and trodden under foot, showed that destructiveness had revelled to satiety. No living thing appeared along the route of that sad procession, and the universal stillness would have been unbroken, were it not for the heavy tread of the doomed man’s guard, and the ringing of their weapons as they clashed against the pavement. O’Brien, however, conducted himself with his accustomed firmness, and though distressed at being obliged to parade the deserted thoroughfares on that winter’s evening, in a state little short of absolute nakedness, his step was as steady and his bearing erect as either could have been on that memorable day when he followed the trophies of Ben- burb to St. Mary’s cathedral. On reaching the foot of the gibbet, he knelt and prayed till he was commanded to arise and mount the ladder. He obeyed, seized the rungs with vigorous grasp, and turned round, as if anxious to ascertain whether any of the citizens had ventured abroad to witness his death-scene. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 241 U S' Haying satisfied Inmself that a few of them were present and ivithm hearing, he exhorted them to continue true to the faMi of their fathers, and hope for better days, when God would look with mercy on unhappy Ireland. A momenrmo e and his soul was with the just. Thus did Terence Albert O’Brien pass out of this life, on All-Saints’ Eve, 16.51. As soon as life was extinct, the executioner lowered the body to the ground and after the soldiers had discharged their muskets a? it he hacked ofl: the head, and impaled it on the tower of St John’s !^n?rdil~A of ’ prie Js'lTthrOom- by that of sereral p ests of the Dominican order, among the most distinguished of whom were fathers Wolf and Collins. The one belono-eJ to th^rr* l“d already given a hSstave to the Church m the person of the celebrated legate of the same , name; and as for Collins, it was he who led the storming pm-ty 1 ^’ '’"i K Puritans evacuated the castle and^ neighbouring church. Both were sentenced bv court-martial, and both died as became them, with Christian ohnstian hope. Ireton, indeed, dealt unsparinvly lost faithful and uncompromising adherents, and that every membei of the order, with one solitary exception,! advocated his policy, not only while he was in Ireland, but when he was far away in his principality of Eeimo. Persistently heroic uimg the siege, they exhibited the same undaunted composure on the scaffold, and their conduct in the latter instance con toasted strongly with that of the temporizing maior-veneral Purcell t who swooned at sight of the halter? and had to be assisted by two musketeers while mounting the ladder. transaction Ireton wrote to Speaker + ‘ -1 liath pleased God, since the surrender,to discover and dpEV^ mto our hands two persons of principal activity and Tnfl?Lee 1 Z pie, munitus Sacramentis ecclesise eodem anno ” mortuus est th:;“dZeftt'*iL'*^"hTsfrr Hxscovery of Faction. i^ctviuur s cross. —Aphonsmxcal 242 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Among tlie laymen who suffered at this time there were two whom we may not pass over in silence. These were Dominic Fanning and a personage whom a contemporary manuscript styles the baron of Castleconnell, the same, perhaps, who basely abandoned the field of Cnoc-na-noss, Fanning, we need hardly say, was in the interest of the nunzio’s party throughout, and when the city surrendered, he fled and secreted himself in the tomb of his ancestors in the Franciscan church. While lying hid there, a picket entered the place, and lit a fire for the pur¬ pose of cooking ; and when Fanning saw them thus employed, he crept out, and half-frozen as he was, sat down to warm himself. The captain of the party kicked him off, and he then endeavoured to escape out of the city, but was arrested at the gate, brought back, and being identified, was immediately hanged. His servant, it seems, involved himself soon after¬ wards with the soldiers, and in a scuffle that ensued was killed on the spot by the captain who had driven Fanning from the fire. The writer to whom we are indebted for this information gives the following account of the baron of Castleconnell:— “ Being sentenced to die, he applied to Ireton for respite of execution till his return from his lodgings, Avhere he broke open his trunks, and finding there a new suite of white tafifetty, attired himself in it. He then rode gallantly to the place of execution, and behaved so jocosely that he caused wonder. Being asked about change of clothes, he replied, Hhat if to marry a creature he would have done no less, why should I not do so now when I believe I am about to marry heaven'?’ ” Of O’Dwyer, bishop of Limerick, and the archbishop of Cashel, we have only to add that Ludlow pleaded for the former, that he did not belong to the nunzio’s extreme party, and that the latter had the same extenuating circumstances in his favour. O’Dwyer was suffered to escape, and the archbishop went quietly away, “both,” says the author of the “ j 4 phorismical Discovery,” “ being protected because they were of the party of Ormond and Clanricarde.” It was on the 10th of November, when all this cold-blooded butchery was done, that Ireton was seized with the epidemic, which had been ravaging the whole island for nearly an entire year. In the course of a few days he gradually grew worse and more faint, and, at length, inflammatory fever supervened. “ In his delirium,” says sir Philip Warwick, “ he shouted repeatedly, ‘ blood ! blood ! I must have more blood ! ’ ” and if we may believe other writers who had similar opportunities for informing themselves concerning the last moments of this THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 243 I'"!-*?palpably before him, that he had to turn his face to the wall to avoid the ghastly apparition. In the wild outbursts of his frenzy he over and over again repeated that he was guiltless of the bishop’s death, that he had no hand in it, and that the court-martial alone was responsible for the sentence and execution. These, however were nothing more than echoes of a guilty conscience, unsoftened y a single expression of regret or repentance—unavailing protestations and arguments thrown away on the bloody spectre a nevei left his bedside till God called him to judgment, atter sixteen days of unmitigated suffering. Need we say that liens piophecy was fulfilled, and may we not suppose that he confronted his murderer at God’s tribunal ? There can be no doubt that Ireton’s conduct to O’Brien was merciless and exceptional, for he pardoned Hugh O’Heill who was as obstinate as the bishop in refusing to capitulate / nay, more, had Ireton been disposed to act considerately or im¬ partially, he surely would have discovered that the man by whom he was beaten at Clonmel, and who left him nothino- ere but '' a breached and bloody wall,” was less entitled to mercy than an ecclesiastical dignitary, who, as such, was nowise amenable to a military tribunal. The remonstrances of his olhcers induced him to cancel the sentence pronounced against lieutenant-general Hugh, Owen Eoe’s nephew, and O’Dwyer a tlmiigh excepted from the articles of treaty, received protection fv-D not extend the same benefit to U Brien we cannot say, but it may be fairly presumed that he was actuated by feelings of intense hatred and vindictiveness to that illustrious personage. In conclusion let us mention a fact not generally known, reton not only pardoned O’Neill, but conferred on him un- mistakable proofs of his esteem and friendship, for,” says e Mb. authority from which these particulars are taken, “ so tender was Ireton of O’Neill’s safety, that he charged his lieu¬ tenant upon pain of his displeasure, to wait on him ; and when he was on the point of death, he commanded his said lieu¬ tenant to use all good behaviour to the Irish general, and send him with his corpse into England. He also bestowed on him iiee orses, one for himself, the other two for two servants to wai on him with a lackey, all at his proper expense. And so It was, tor Hugh O’Neill accompanied the remains to London and he was there released.” The corpse, we need hardly add’ was buried with great pomp in Westminster abbey, but it does 244 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN not appear that O’Neill was present when John Owen, minister of the Gospel, delivered Ireton’s funeral oration, which he afterwards published under the title of “ The Labouring Saint’s Dismission to Kest.” CHAPTER IX. At the commencement of these papers we stated that the secret instructions given to Rinuccini, when about to set out for Ireland, charged him to select as his special and most con¬ fidential advisers, Malachy, archbishop of Tuam, and Heber, bishop of Clogher, whose zeal, clearsightedness, and ability in the management of public business, had won them high repute at the court of Rome. Having spoken of the former of these prelates, we will now address ourselves to the biography of the latter, whose fidelity to the cause of religion and country has made his name famous in popular ballads, as well as in those graver pages, where friend and foe have represented him as a grand historic figure. Heber, or Emeric, son of Turlough MacMahon and Eva O’Neill, was born in Monaghan, in 1600, a year memorable for the arrival in Ireland of the lord deputy Mountjoy, whose acknowledged ability as a statesman and general was destined to crush the Spaniards at Kinsale, and subjugate the entire island to English rule. Heber’s father had fought on the side of the northern chieftains, from the beginning of the war which the latter waged against queen Elizabeth; and on every field from Clontibret to the great victory of the Blackwater, he acted the part of a brave soldier, proving himself on all occasions a worthy representative of an ancient race, always renowned for valorous achievements. The child, Heber, was only seven 3 ^ears old when his kinsman, James Colla MacMahon, was obliged to join the earls in their flight from lough Swilly; and in the course of a few years afterwards his father was reduced to comparative poverty by the bill of attainder, which pro¬ scribed the fugitives and their adherents, and confiscated the best part of Ulster to the crown. Obliged to seek shelter with the survivors of O’Neill’s and O’Donnell’s clansmen in the then almost inaccessible glens of Donegal, Turlough, with his wife Eva, and their only child, fixed his residence in the vicinity of Kilybegs, and there lived as best they could, hoping THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 245 [} I that he would sooner or later, be restored to some parcel of those grand domains which were so cruelly and uniustlv wrested from him and his. News, however, reached Ireland towards the close of 1608, that James MacMahon and his com¬ panion in misfortune, lord Maguire, had died immediately after their arrival at Genoa; and the executive, acting on this wel¬ come intelligence, confirmed the grant of Turlough’s patrimony to the new occupier, and thus annulled all the claims of the rightful owner. At that period Turlough was too old to take service in the Spanish armies; and as he was suffering from wounds received on the disastrous day of Kinsale, he resolved to remain at home, and devote the remainder of his days to initiating young Heber, his sole hope, in the rudiments of the military profession, till the lad would be fit to sail for Flanders and there enlist into the Irish regiment, which was then com¬ manded by John, eldest son of the banished earl of Tyrone. Heber, indeed, did inherit the chivalrous instincts of his father • but his mother, it would appear, had no ambition to see hini railing halberd or lance, and she consequently resolved that his hopes and aspirations should take an opposite direction, and yearn for the still higher honour of serving in the weakened ranks of the church, then truly militant, in Ireland. Heber seconded his mother’s wishes, abandoned all thoughts of sword and target for book and pen; and that nothing might be wanting to forward his education, she called into her humble homestead a Franciscan friar of Donegal, who, in return for ^e bread and shelter afforded him, taught the boy Latin, Gremc, and Spanish, and made him thoroughly familiar with 1 unfortunate country. Towards the close of 1 Douay, and entered the Irish college, which Cusack, a priest of Meath, had endowed in that old hlemish town. Having completed his philosophical course there, he removed to Louvain, in order to avail himself of the lectures of the learned Franciscan MacCaghwell, who was then esteemed one of the most profound theologians of his time. What honours or distinctions he obtained during his collegiate career we know not; but it is certain that his application and industry were rewarded with the respect of his various profes¬ sors, and secured for him the congratulations of those truly eminent Irish ecclesiastics who then devoted themselves to educating priests for the home mission. At length, having gone through the prescribed cycle of studies, and attained his twenty-Mth year, Heber was ordained prie.st in the chapel of tlie Irish Franciscan convent at Louvain; John Colgan, Donatiis 246 THE IKISH HIERARCHY IN Mooney, father O’Cleary, and other celebrities assisting on the occasion. In the interval his parents had passed out of this life, after seeing their inheritance alienated to the thrifty colonists with whom James I. replaced the native population, and the ancient churches of Clogher given over to fanatical preachers, Scotch and English, whose aim was to outroot “ popery ” from the soil where it had flourished so vigorously during those days when O’Neill and O’Donnell would not suffer any Anglican priest or prelate to set foot upon it. At the time of his ordination, Louvain, and, indeed, every other garrison town in Flanders, swarmed with Irish troops commanded by Owen Koe O’Neill, Preston, of the house of Gormanston, O’Cahan, and others, who were destined to take part in the eventful vicissitudes of their native land at a future period. Had MacMahon wished to remain among his exiled countrymen, he could easily have found advancement at the hands of the archdukes, Albert and Isabella, then the steadiest friends of the Irish Catholics; but knowing that his services were required in the land of his birth, he hastened home, and devoted himself with heroic zeal to the duties of his calling. On his arrival in his native diocese, he found the Catholics deprived not only of their lands but of their churches, and obliged to assist at the divine sacrifice wherever it could be celebrated without attracting the notice of the ‘‘Undertakers,” in the recesses of the mountains, and oftener still on the hill sides which commanded a view of the surrounding districts, and enabled them to take precaution against being surprised or interrupted. Withal, the people clung steadfastly to the ancient faith ; and, notwithstanding the perils to which they were hourly exposed for the observance of its ordinances, nothing could induce them to abandon it or betray its ministers to the myrmidons of the executive, who were ever on the alert for their apprehension. The people respected MacMahon not only as a priest, but as one of the representatives of the ancient nobility of Ulster who had suffered so much for religion and country ; and we may easily imagine with what weight his words fell on their hearts, when he exhorted them to persevere in the same profession, and beseech God to take compassion on their endurance. Cautiously avoiding all overt acts that could provoke the intolerance of lord Falkland, and the deputies who succeeded him, he toiled as a simple priest twenty years in the diocese of Clogher; and so efficiently that O’Peilly, vicar- apostolic of Kilmore, and subsequently archbishop of Armagh, wrote to Rome that he deserved the highest honours to which THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 247 the holy see could advance him. The primate, doubtless, regarded him as eminently qualified to preside over the ancient see of Clogher ; in a word, as one whose election to that dignity would be hailed with delight by the people, who, in the midst of theii leverses, still maintained traditional reverence for the son of the Orgiellian chieftains. At the commencement of the agitation which heralded the insurrection of 1641, MacMahon signified to lord Ormond that the Catholics of the north, unable to bear the oppressions of the Scotch and English undertakers, would assuredly rise in arms, unless the executive took means to protect their lives against the repeated acts of aggression to which they were houily exposed j but this timely warning was utterly thrown away^ on Parsons and Borlase, whose aim was to goad the “ papists to rebellion, in order that they might share be¬ tween them the remnant of property that was still in the hands of the latter. At length, however, endurance reached its ex- tremest limit, the northern Catholics appealed to arms, and among those who were involved in the abortive attempt to seize Dublin castle and the persons of the lords justices, was Hugh J\4acJ\4ahon, the near kinsman of the subject of this memoir. ^ At the outbreak of the revolution, father Heber exerted all his power and influence to restrain the licentiousness of the multitudes who flocked to the standard of sir Phelim O’Neill and the other northern leaders, and such were his exertions in behalf of the Protestants, that many of them owed their lives and preseivation of their property to his charitable interposition. As soon, however, as the “rising” assumed the character of a general movement, he co-operated with archbishop O’Peilly and the other prelates who assembled at Kells, and finally in Kil¬ kenny, to direct the people in laying the foundations of the Confedeiacy. On all these occasions, the prelates and lay lords gave attentive ear to his suggestions, and regarded him as one whose wisdom was only equalled by his well-known courage. At length, when the Confederacy was fully organized, and the prelates had resolved to fill those sees that were vacant, a me¬ morial was forwarded to Home, praying his holiness, Urban VIII., to promote MacMahon to the bishopric of Clogher,* as no other could be found more deserving of such advancement, either by ancient descent or grand services rendered to the new govern¬ ment. The holy see granted the prayer of the petitioners, and MacMahon was consecrated at Drogheda, early in 1642, after * See Appendix Z 5. 248 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IH having held the see of Down and Connor as hisliop-elect for two years previously.* The 'motives that determined this selection were twofold— spiritual and temporal—for the holy see not only appreciated the services which MacMahon had rendered to religion, but set due value on his acknowledged influence with the people of his province, who recognized him as the representative of their ancient chieftains, and were nowise loath to follow him to the field, whenever he might find it imperative on him to lay aside crozier and mitre for sword and helmet. In fact, he was the fittest man for the dignity to which he was elevated, for it is likely that no other could have been found possessing so many attributes of a militant prelate. His first essay in that capacity was made a year before he received the bull appointing him to the see of Cloglier, when he marched at the head of a strong detachment of troops to congratulate his early friend, Owen O’Neill, on his arrival in Ireland, and tender to that dis¬ tinguished general the aid of his sword whenever he might need it. Strange as such a proposition may appear to us, it could not shock or surprise O’Neill, who, doubtless, was aware that many Spanish and Italian prelates, and Pope Julius II. especially, had dared death upon the field, and he therefore accepted the chivalrous offer with a soldier’s thankfulness. But what O’Neill desired most at that juncture was the removal of his kinsman, sir Phelim,t from the command of the Ulster forces, and to have at his disposal large levies of stalwart youths, who, when disciplined after the Spanish fashion, were to be officered by those gallant and experienced men who had seen service witli him in many a campaign, and shared his laurels at Arras. It is most unnecessary to say, that father Heber voted Owen Boe, general-in-chief of the * See Appendix A aa, + The editor of the Rinuccini Papers states that Owen O’Neill was in Kilkenny on 23rd March, 1646, and that he then and there, at the urgent instance of the nunzio and Heber MacMahon, bishop of Clogher, pardoned sir Phelim, who on the last day of same month wrote to the nunzio from Charlemont thus :—“ Dispose of me and my regiment as you like, for I’d rather he without regiment or commission than continue on had terms with my kinsman. I renounce all enmities that have existed between him, Clogher, and myself; and from my heart I pardon both. My lieu¬ tenant-colonel, Sandford, having heard that he has been cashiered will wait on your lordships ; he is a distinguished soldier and deserves well of this country, although he has never received a single penny of pay. In case I am deprived of my regiment, I pray you to amply provide for him.”— Rinuccini papers^ vol. 2, see Appendix B bh. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 249 noitliGin Gonf6cl6rRtGS, ciiid. sparGcl no effort to procure recruits for that chieftain’s standard, till he had the satisfaction of see¬ ing him at the head of a large and highly disciplined army. Such truly valuable services were fully recognised at Rome, where father Wadding, and others not less influential, com¬ mended them to the notice of the holy see; and we have glanced at them here in order to explain why it was that Rinuccini was instructed to make a confident of Heber, bishop of Clogher. The first meeting of these two personages took place in the castle of Kilkenny, immediately after the nunzio’s arrival in that city, and then commenced that friendship and continuity of intercourse, which lasted through so many years of triumph and reverses. Indeed, one of the nunzio’s earliest despatches shows that MacMahon realized his ideal of a true and energetic . bishop; for when enumerating the many difficulties he had to encounter from the opposition of the older prelates, who made small account of “the splendour of religion, through fear of not being able to maintain it,” he reports to the holy see, that the recently consecrated bishop of Clogher was most anxious for the restoration of the splendour and publicity of ecclesiastical ceremonies \ and that that personage, although guided by political precedents, afforded a marked contrast to the old bishops, who, having passed through the days of persecution, were constantly haunted by a dread that such times might come again. They lacked resolution and boldness, but in the person of MacMahon he found all that he could desire—a will conformable to his own, and a spirit of daring that was always prepared to encounter the most formidable emergencies. With such an ally, Rinuccini flattered himself that he would be able to overrule the wide-spread feeling of opposition to his rehgio-political projects; and, indeed, there can be no doubt that he would have succeeded, had he been able to reconcile conflicting parties and interests, and unite all in opposition to the common enemy. He failed to accomplish this; and although representing the delegated majesty of Rome, his efforts to bring about a union of Iiish politicians were utterly unavailing. MacMahon, although occupying the place of a spiritual peer in the supreme council, was not advanced to the temporalities of his bishopric till after the battle of Benburb, when that victory gave the Confederates a short-lived triumph in Ulster; but even then, he resided less frequently in his diocese than in the immediate vicinity of the nunzio and the camp of Owen 0 Neill, who was entirely directed and influenced by his counsels. As might be expected, the bishop subscribed the rejec- 250 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN tionof the peace of 1646, and took an active part in the congre¬ gation of the clergy at Waterford, where the clergy assumed the government, under the presidency of the nunzio, and committed the sad blunder of calling O’Neiirs army from the pursuit of the Scotch Puritans to support the new regime. Thenceforth he became, if possible, still more devoted to the nunzio, ap¬ proved all his projects, and maintained that his policy and Owen O’Neill’s sword were the sole means for rescuing Ireland from present and future oppression. Acting on this conviction, he caused O’Neill to signify to the nunzio that the preponderating military power, which the victory of Benburb had secured for him, was entirely at his service, and that the XJlster forces were ready to march on Dublin whenever he might think fit to sanction that enterprise. The reduction of the capital was one of Binuccini’s most cherished projects, and as MacMahon was well aware of this, he insisted that no time should be lost in making the attempt. The nunzio hesitated, not, indeed, through apprehension of failure, but rather from fear of giving umbrage to queen Henrietta Maria, then at Paris ; and it was not till after several weeks of inaction he resolved to summon the metropolis to surrender. In the beginning of autumn, 1646, O’Neill advanced with his Ulstermen through the north of Leinster, and being joined by the forces under Preston, they pitched their camps at Leixlip and Newcastle, while the nunzio and MacMahon took up their * MacMahon memorialed The Holy See to advance the nunzio to the Cardinalate. “ Tot et tanta ejus merita ut ego humillimus servus sedis apostolicm ah eadem petere hand erubescam cardinalatum.” This petition which was sent from Kilkenny to Eome, 15 Feb. 1648, was accom¬ panied by another of the same tenor from O’Neill, whose devotedness to the nunzio caused him to reject all the offers of lands and honours which Ormond made him, provided he would desert Rinuccini and his partizans. The following passage of O’Neill’s letter, dated “ Loghanna,” August 1646, will show how entirely he identified himself with the policy of the supreme council under the presidency of the nunzio and clergy, when the latter broke with the old council sitting in Kilkenny. “ Nullius alterius sententim adstrictus, aut addictus, a vestra solius Illmae Dnis nutu dependens. Quod autem ad me attinet, non divitiarum cupi- ditas, non honorum ambitio, sed zelus domus Dei, et fastidium duri jugi, sub quo fatiscentes, et gementes conterraneos meos, animadverti, me hue inde, ubi meos dies in majore tranquillitate et securitate quam hie, finire poteram, adigerunt, neque (per Dei gratiam) prospera aut adversa fortuna de horum affectuum alterutro quicquam in me unquam diminuet, sed in hac confessione me si fractus illabatur orbis impavidum ferient ruinse .”—Rinuccini Fapers^ v. 2. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 251 quarters in the immediate vicinity, to hasten the operations of the two generals. Acting on the advice of Castlehaven, Or¬ mond wasted the country all around before he retired into Dublin, and as the winter had set in with unusual severity, the Confederates were but ill supplied with provisions. Worst of all, the old jealousies between Preston and O’Neill had broken out afresh ; and to add to this complication of diffijjulties, lord Clanricarde, a Catholic, and hitherto neutral, appeared on the scene to tamper with Preston, whose hatred of O’Neill was only equalled by his want of firmness. Preston would not advance, and a rumour reached O’Neill’s quarters that the former had concerted measures with Ormond for falling on his army in front and flank. O’Neill, therefore, had to take precautions against surprise, for he was led to believe that Preston meant to destroy him and his. As for the citizens of Dublin, they were terrified by the proximity of the nunzio’s armies, and as they gazed, night after night, from the tower of Christ church on the numerous camp fires that blazed along the north bank of the Liffey, from Castleknock to Lucan, they prayed God to deliver them from those wild Ulstermen, who boasted, how¬ ever unwarrantably, that they were the pope’s chosen soldiers. Little, however, did the good burghers think that bickerings were rife in the Confederate camps, and that the two armies which had come to seize the city were more disposed to fly at each other’s throats! In the midst of these dissensions, the nunzio felt himself bewildered, and apprehending that he must lose all chance of taking Dublin if he failed to unite the two generals, he went, accompanied by the bishop of Clogher, to Preston’s quarters, to effect a mutual understanding. The Leinster general behaved on this occasion with marked reserve, and though he had been urged to arrest the bishop of Clogher, he refused to do so. The conference, however, did not bring about the desired reconciliation; and much as the nunzio plumed himself on his courage in traversing the level country north of the city, ‘‘ where a few straggling horsemen might have picked him up and carried him to lord Ormond,”* all his efforts went for nothing, so that on a rumour of a parliamentary squadron having dropped anchor in the bay, O’Neill and Preston struck their tents, and retired hastily in the direction of Kil¬ kenny. After tarrying some days at Lucan, to examine articles of accommodation which Clanricarde proposed on Ormond’s behalf^ * “ Nunziatura in Irlanda.” 252 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN the nunzio and the bishop of Clogher hastened to rejoin the Confederate generals in the hope of bringing them back to re¬ sume the siege of Dublin. This, however, they found utterly impracticable ; and the only result of all their jjleading was to induce O’Neill and Preston to subscribe a document, by which they bound themselves to be true to each other on all future occasions ^hen the interests of the Confederacy might require their combined action.* Having aided in effecting this temporary reconciliation, Mac Mahon retired to his diocese, and there passed the greater part of 1647, holding conferences of his clergy, administering con¬ firmation, restoring churches, and zealously performing all the ■other functions of his episcopal office. At length, however, when news reached him that Preston had been defeated at Trim by Jones, to whom lord Ormond surrendered Dublin for a sum of thirteen thousand pounds, he wrote to Owen O’Neill to march with his army, and save Kilkemiy from the parliamentary forces. The Ulster general gladly obeyed the summons, marched rapidly on Trim, occupied the ground where Preston had been so shamefully routed, and kept Jones’s troops in check for fully four months. This bold manceuvre was, indeed, the salvation of the Confederates; for O’Neill’s sudden appearance on the scene of the late disaster caused Jones to retire within the walls of Dublin, and abandon his design of reducing Kil¬ kenny. MacMahon joined the Ulster general at Trim, and re¬ mained constantly in his camp till summoned by the nunzio to Kilkenny, to take part in the momentous debates which at that time distracted the Confederate councils.! At the close of 1647, the Ormondist faction resolved, if possible, to get rid of the nunzio and his adherents, and, in order to accomplish this, they gave out that the recent losses and wide-spread poverty from which the whole country was suffering could not be remedied, except by appealing to the * See Appendix C cc. t On the 23rd Jul}", 1647, while O’Neill was encamped in Trim, he sent a strong detachment to reduce the castle of Maynooth, then garrisoned hy the parliamentarians. The editor of the Jtinuccini Papers states that the castle was one of the strongest in Ireland—“ fortissimum et antiquissimum comitis Kildariae Augustale.” The Ulster soldiers scaled the walls, and got into the hawn through the windows, losing sixteen of their men in the operation. Finding twenty-six Irish deserters in the castle, the Ulstermen hanged them, hut spared the English women and children. A rich booty, among the rest three standards, fell into the hands of the conquerors, who immediately afterwards levelled Jiggenstown and forti¬ fied Naas. See Appendix D dd. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 253 > % t * pope, and other foreign potentates, for assistance in money and munitions. It was also suggested that the terms projoosed by Ormond, in 1646, should be reconsidered and accepted, provided the guarantees for religion were amplified ; and, finally, that deputations should be sent to the various Catholic courts, to represent the miserable condition of the Confederates, and ob¬ tain whatever aids they might be disposed to advance. This, indeed, was an adroit ruse to get shut of Rinuccini’s partisans, and, according to the programme, it was voted and carried in the assembly that MacMahon should proceed, with lord Mus- kerry and Doctor Brown, to the court of queen Henrietta Maria at Paris. The bishop, however, saw through the scheme, and resolved to defeat it. He therefore besought the council to substitute some one in his place; ‘‘ For,” said he, “ I am ignorant of the French and English languages, and the queen has conceived strong prejudices to me, as it has been told her that I took an active part in promoting this war, and rejecting the peace of 1646, Moreover, I have reason to think I would be hazarding my life were I to undertake this mission ; for Digby, the queen’s secretary, and her special favourite, St. Germain, are my sworn enemies. Find some one else for this business ; for nothing shall induce me to embark in it.” This declaration surprised and confounded the Ormondists; and so indignant were Muskerry, Taaff, Preston, and others, that they waited on the mayor of Kilkenny, and charged him to have the bishop of Clogher placed under arrest for contumacy and breach of privilege. The mayor, however, instead of doing as they commanded, made the bishop an offer of his protection, alleging as his reason for¬ doing so, that he did not feel himself bound to obey the order of the assembly in this instance. On hearing this, Preston left the city to assemble his troops that were encamped in the neighbour¬ hood ; detachments of the garrison were turned out to patrol the streets, and the gates were closed to keep the bishop or any of his friends from communicating with O’JSTeil], whose tents were visible from the ramparts of the city. Next day, how¬ ever, MacMahon took his place in the assembly; but such was the excitement provoked by his appearance, that he was forced to retire while the Ormondists were gravely discussing the legality of committing him to prison. That, indeed, was a serious question ; and those who were for incarcerating him cited countless precedents, furnished by history and the statute book; but, as the bishops then present demurred to such special pleading, the Ormondists insisted that a written order should be sent'to MacMahon, forbidding him to leave the city. The 254 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN bishops, however, would not sanction this ; and so strenuous was their opposition, that the assembly caused their written order to be cancelled, and commissioned their speaker to wait on MacMahon, and request him not to go beyond the walls. Irritated by this untoward proceeding, the nunzio insisted that the Ormondists had “ violated ecclesiastical immunity,” and were, consequently bound to make reparation for their error, if they were not prepared to encounter the resentment of Owen O’Neill, who, in his camp at Maryborough, told the agent of the French court, that he would never set foot in Kilkenny till ample apology'had been made to the offended prelate, who was his especial friend and adviser. Alarmed at this, the assembly made the required atonement, and appointed the marquis of Antrim to be one of the deputation in lieu of the bishop of Clogher, whose presence in Ireland was indispensably necessary at that moment, when Kinuccini was about to resort to those extreme measures, for the enforcement of which he required the aid of the carnal weapon.* It is almost superfluous to say that the bishop of Clogher figured prominently in the council of prelates who rejected Inchiquin’s truce, and from fourteen of whom Kinuccini pro¬ cured a conditional power to excommunicate all favourers of that overture, in conjunction with four specified bishops, or in case of their non-attendance, with four to be named by himself. Indeed, in this instance, MacMahon did nothing more than what might have been expected from one whose antecedents * Owen Eoe at this time was in possession of the two-handed sword of the Great Earl of Tirone, which Massari got from Wadding when about to return to Ireland, in February, 1647. “ Eecuperavi,” writes the Dean of Fermo to Einuccini, “ illius Celebris bellatoris Tironiae comitis ultonien- sis ex O’Neillorum familia, gladium duarum manuum quern generali Don Eugenio destinavi.” This gift created considerable excitement among O’Neill’s enemies, one of whom vented his spleen in the subjoined verses— “ Porro super prsefato Tironiae comitis gladio, ad Eugenium misso, quidam cemulorum suorum exoneravit bilem his carminihus Anglicanis.” The sanguine hands of the O’Nellian scept Have now received the papal gifts long kept. Earle Hugh to whom the phenix plume was sent Among the birds on earthe most eminent, And to his nephew Owen a sword is come, The Hercules of both the world and Eome. And expect a further present !—what ? The imperial scepter of O’Neill’s lost stat. Left with the j)ope to keepe, with reason then The pope should not restore the same again. —Minuccini Tapers. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 255 i x^roved that he was devotedly attached to the nunzio throughout, i and the more so as the latter had always shown a decided I ju'eference for Owen O’Neill and the Catholics of Ulster. Actu¬ ated by such sentiments, he aided the nunzio in effecting his escape from Kilkenny, and accompanied him to O’NeiH’s camj) at Maryborough, where he tarried some time meditating what 1 was best to be done at such a moment, and how he might be able to make his final exit from Ireland, Sad and perilous, in- j deed, was Kinuccini’s sojourn with Owen Koe, for the forces i* which were then at his disjDosal could not cox)e with the united j armies of Preston and Inchiquin, had they marched on Mary- j, borough ; but far more poignant than the apprehension he enter- j, tained of being surprised and utterly routed by his sworn h enemies, was the intimation which Einuccini gave him of his apxmoaching departure from the kingdom. O^Neill implored him to abandon his intention, and MacMahon urged that the ' great body of the clergy, notwithstanding the political defection ; of eight bishops, and three-fourths of the entire population, still !: adhered to his policy. But all in vain, for Einuccini clearly j saw that no permanent benefit could come of his presence in J Ireland, and that he was utterly powerless to bring about a union of the conflicting parties, who were more intent on sacri¬ ficing each other than acting in concert for the common good. Pull of this conviction he took leave of O’Neill, and ftroceeded to Athlone, where, on the refusal of the four authorised bishops ■ to sanction his last and most daring measure, he summoned four others in their stead, and with their consent pronounced sentence of excommunication against the abettors of Inchiqiiin’s [ truce, and laid all x)arts of the kingdom, where it would be ac¬ cepted, under interdict. The bishop of Clogher subscribed the ; sentence, and had the gratification of learning soon afterwards, that two thousand of Preston’s soldiers terrified by the Church’s ^ ■ thunders, had deserted that general, and ranged themselves < under O’Neill’s standard. Elated by this momentary success, j and exasperated by the Ormondists, who joronounced him guilty of high treason, O’Neill broke uj) his camj) at Maryborough, I and proceeded northwards, in order to reinforce his little army. ^ On this expedition he was accompanied by the bishop of Clogher, and such was the enthusiasm of the Ulstermen for ‘ both chieftain and prelate, that O’Neill soon found himself at , the head of ten thousand infantry and fifteen hundred horse, j indifierently armed, but ready and willing to follow wherever '} their general might be disposed to lead them. With this con- I tingent O’Neill and the bishop returned to Leinster, routed 1 256 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Preston, and then advanced by forced marches into the county Tipperary, where four thousand brave peasants enrolled them¬ selves under the Confederate banners, and solemnly pledged themselves to stand by the cause of the “ old Irish ” and the Church. Nenagh, Banagher, and other strong places on the Shannon were speedily in the power of O^Neill’s troops, and in this brief but brilliant campaign, the nunzio tells us that the Ulster chieftain defeated seven generals who were opposed to him, and thus, for the fifth time, saved religion and Ireland from the enemies of both. Having accomplished all this, O’Heill and MacMahon returned to the north, to protect the people of that province from the raids of the parliamentarians. Meanwhile, lord Ormond had resumed the government, and signified to the nunzio that he must quit the kingdom without further delay. The intimation was soon followed by that personage’s departure for the shores of France, and O’Neill and his faithful adherent, the bishop of Clogher, were left to take whatever course they deemed best for the good of the country and their own preservation. Finding himself thus abandoned by his former friends, and driven to desperation by want of provisions and military supplies, O’Neill was con¬ strained to accept the overtures of sir Charles Coote, who pro¬ posed to give him a considerable quantity of powder and ball, on condition that he would march to the relief of Derry, then besieged by the Scotch, under lord Montgomery. O’Neill ac¬ cepted the offer, marched against the Scotch, who fled across the Bann at his approach, and was splendidly entertained at Derry by Coote, who professed himself under lasting obligations to his deliverer. This unnatural alliance, which nothing but extreme necessity could justify, was not destined to last, for the English parliament rebuked Coote for treating with O’Neill, and the latter, disgusted at the hostility he experienced from those whom he had so generously relieved, resolved to break with them, and make a tender of his services to lord Ormond. During his short sojourn at Derry, O’Neill was seized with a mortal malady, occasioned it was said, however unwarrantably, by poison, with which Coote caused his wine to be drugged,* or, as others would have it, by a pair of poisoned * The conjectures about the cause of O’Neill’s death were nothing but most worthless gossip. Many, however, believed them at the time; for the unfortunate are invariably credulous. Sundry passages in Owen Eoe’s letters show that he was almost always very infirm of body, very aged, and haunted by presentiments of approaching death. &eo Appendix E ee. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 257 , russet boots, sent him by one Plunket, of Loiitli. In tliis con¬ dition lie bad to be carried in a horse-litter to Cloiighoiiter, the j residence of his brother-in-law, colonel Philip O’Peilly. I O’NeilFs sufferings were painful, and, despite the science of j the many physicians who strove to save him, he sank ; gradually—“ his hair and nails falling off,” and expired on ] the sixth of November, 1649.* The Hshop of Clogher never p left the gallant patient’s bedside during his protracted illness, I' but remained constantly there preparing him for the doubt- ; fill transit,” and receiving his last instructions for the main- 1 tenance of the TJlster army. Two days after the melancholy event, O’Peilly, the primate, Magennis, bishop of Down, and i Heber, of Clogher, accompanied by all the kinsmen and officers || of the deceased, followed his mortal remains to the Franciscanf J . monastery of Cavan, and there committed them to a grave which, from that time to the present, has not had a single stone to dis¬ tinguish it as the last resting place of a great Irishman, i Being thus deprived of their general, the officers of the ’ Ulster army resolved that no time should be lost in electing j some one to fill his place, and they accordingly assembled for ' that purpose at Belturbet, early in March, 1650. The meet- I ing was held in the house of MacSweeney, bishop of Kilmore, who was named to preside on the momentous occasion. Among , those present were the marquis of Antrim, sir Phelim O’Neill, * “ Aphorismical Discovery.” See Appendix F//. t O’Neill entertained special rei^ard for the Irish Franciscans, and ] deprecated the conduct of some members of the order who, for some I reason best known to themselves, endeavoured to divide Ireland into two . provinces. On this subject he addressed the following letter to the cardinal protector of Ireland:—“ Erne, princeps : Intelligo ex prelatis i tarn Ecclesiarum hujus regni, quam ordinis St. Francisci innovationem j quam intendunt quidam fratres, indiscrete zelo, aut levi ambitione decepti, I ejusdem ordinis, nempe divisionem Ibernise in duas provincias, futuram i nocivam, et perniciosam turn religioni, turn reipublicse confederatorum || Catholicorum, quod eo facilius credo, quia expertus fiii hactenus plerosque magnates, et nobiles hujus regni consilio, et opera maxime fratrum , ejusdem ordinis in communi amicitia, in ordine ad bonum commune promovendum, perstitisse. Atqui cum ilia ipsa divisio, et separatio quam modo intendunt, ortum habeat ab alienatione quadam animorum, et diversitate opinionum, studiisque partium; et cum tantum valeant apud I omnes in regno opinione doctrinse, et famae, plane timendum est ne periculosam causent rupturam ; nisi ejusmodi studiorum propere et » vigorose obstetur principiis. Inde rogo enixe ut V. Emnia. dignetur sua auctoritate efficere ut in hac re nihil innovetur, donee a Dno. Nuncio Apostolico existente in hoc regno plenius Curia Eomana in- formetur. Datum in Castris nostris die 12 8ris 1647. “ V. Em. Servus Don Eugenus O’Neill.” ^ —Hinuccini Tapers, S 258 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN Henry 0’1'Teill, Coii MacCormack O’Neill, lieutenant-general O’Farrell, Philip MacHugli O’Pceilly, Pleber, bishop of Clogher, the bishop of Down, and many other ecclesiastics. The O’Neills contended that the generalship belonged of i-ight to them, and that it was hereditaiy in their family. O’Farrell, on the other hand, maintained that he, as lieutenant-general to Owen Roe, was entitled to the command; and the marquis of Antrim ])ressed his own claims, which he grounded on the intimacy that had so long subsisted between himself and Owen Roe, to whom he had rendered many signal services. The debate was protracted and stormy, and the assembly considering the danger that was likely to ensue, by electing any of the aforesaid, even Ilenry, son of the deceased general, and the most deserv¬ ing of all, resolved to put an end to further discussion, by nomi¬ nating Heber, bishop of Clogher, to the vacancy. As matter of course, this selection could not please all parties, for some as¬ serted that MacMahon was not equal to the requirements of the situation, and others, not having the fear of the consequences before their eyes, and affecting to be scandalized, did not shrink from asserting, that the combination of crozier and sword was an anomaly of which no true Catholic could approve. Withal, as there was no remedy for this seeming incongruity, they resolved to follow whithersoever the bishop would lead them, for they knew that he was the depository of Owen O’Neill’s confidence, and fully cognizant of the treaty which the latter had concluded with lord Ormond just one month before his decease. Having now assumed the command, MacMahon lost no time in mustering his troops, and being joined by detachments of Ulstermen, drafted from the garrison of Waterford, and several regiments which had seen service in Leinster and Connaught, under O’Cahan ' and other distinguished officers, he marched into the county Monaghan at the head of an army numbering about 5,000 foot and 600 horse. The influence of MacMahon’s name and lineage in his native province caused multitudes of young recruits to rally round his standard, and, in the course of a few months, he had the satisfaction of seeing his available force largely increased, and well-disciplined by O’Farrell, whose commission of lieutenant-general had been confirmed by the Belturbet council. Leaving that officer in temporary com¬ mand, the bishop proceeded to Loghreagh, in order to take counsel with lords Ormond and Clanricarde, and procure from them such aids as were required for carrying on the war against sir Charles Coote, V^enables, and other rebels who, notwithstanding the recent murder of Charles I. and the pro- TPIE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 259 A ^ claiming of his successor, still stood out in open revolt against monarchy. Ormond received the bishop cordially, condoled Avith him on the death of O’Neill, in whose honour, he said, lie always placed implicit trust ^ and after congratulating him ,, as successor to the deceased general, confirmed the appoint¬ ment Avith a commission of the folloAving tenor :_ “ To our trusty and well-beloved bishop. Ever MacMahon. “ Ormond, i ’ “Whereas, upon the treaty with general Owen O’Neill, deceased, it Avas, amongst other particulars, concluded and agreed upon, that in case of death or removal of him, such other general or commander-in-chief should be authorised by 1 commission from us to command his majesty’s forces of the province of IJlster, natives of the kingdom,'as should be by i general consent of the gentry of that province elected and I made choice of for the same, ^nd, whereas, in a general I meeting lately held by the gentry for that purpose, it Avas j agreed upon, and so represented unto us, that you should I exercise that command over the said forces. We, therefore, ( upon the consideration thereof, and of the care, judgment, valour, and experience in martial affairs, as also of the readi¬ ness and good affections of you to do his majesty service, haA^e nominated and appointed, and Ave do hereby nominate and appoint you, the said bishop. Ever MadyTahon, to be general of all his majesty s said forces, of horse and foot, of the province of Ulster, natives of the kingdom.” Having concerted with Ormond and Clanricarde the plan of , the approaching campaign, and obtained from them assurance of plentiful supplies of field artillery, victuals, and ammunition, MacMahon returned to Monaghan, and placing himself at the ^ head of his army, marched on Charlernont, where he and his 1 chief officers published a manifesto, in which they iiiAuted the Scots to forget the animosities that had hitherto existed be¬ tween them and the Irish, and to sink all distinctions of nation and religion for the sake of the royal interest and service, j Many of the Scots were converted to royalism by this appeal, but the great majority of Coote’s forces revolted at the idea of » serving under the standard of a “ popish bishop,” no matter : what side of the quarrel he might take, and therefore resolved to share the -fortunes of their old leaders. Seeing there was no hope of detaching the Scots from Coote / and Venables, the bishop resolved to attack them in detail, and. 260 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN if possible, prevent the juncture of their respective forces, as neither of them would have been able to fight him single-handed. With this object, he marched northwards along the Bann, stormed Dungiven, Ballycastle, and other places of no great importance, and finally crossed the Foyle, near Lifford, in order to main¬ tain a communication, through Ballyshannon, with Connaught, whence he expected the supplies promised by Ormond and Clanricarde. This, however, proved to be a disastrous man¬ oeuvre, for it enabled Yenables to send Coote, who was then en¬ camped at Skirfolas, in the neighbourhood of Letterkenny, a reinforcement of one thousand veteran soldiers, who had seen service under Munroe from the commencement of the Irish war. On the twenty-first of June, 1650, the two armies were within an hour’s march of each other; and as both were pretty equally matched, the bishop resolved to risk a battle, contrary to the advice of his most experienced officers, who insisted that he should hold a council of war, and abide by the decision of the majority. To this he submitted reluctantly, and while he and his chiefs were engaged discussing the momentous question, a woman * of uncommon stature, gaunt, and dressed in white, forced her way into their midst, and quoted an old prophecy which foretold that the Irish were doomed to sustain an awful defeat on the banks of the Swilly. MacMahon, however, paid little heed to the weird virago, and, perhaps, less to the un¬ answerable arguments of Henry Boe O’Neill, who urged, that instead of engaging the enemy on broken ground, where the Irish troops could not act with precision, it would be more pru¬ dent to wait till the former should be obliged, through want of provisions, to shift their quarters, when it would be easy to fall on them, and cut them up in detail. It was also urged, that the force at the bishop’s disposal had been weakened by the absence of a large body which he detached to seize Castle Doe; but, all arguments were thrown away upon him, for he was obstinate as he was rashly brave. The other officers concurred with Henry O’Neill, and besought the bishop to act on their unani¬ mous opinion, but, far from doing so, he taunted them with cowardice, and more than hinted that they were over squeamish in shedding their own or the enemy’s blood. Smarting under this rebuke, the chiefs summoned their men to arms, and de¬ manded to be led against Coote. The attack of the Irish was impetuous, but, as Henry O’Neill had foretold, the rugged and stony nature of the ground would not suffer them to act in * “ Aphorismical Discovery.” - THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 261 compact masses, and, notwithstanding all their chivalry, they were taken in flank and rear by Coote’s forces, who, in the course of a few hours, routed them with slaughter. Eighteen captains of the O’Farrells were slain on the fatal field, and fifteen hundred of the common soldiers perished before the fire of Coote’s musketeers. Henry O’Neill, and many others of his name and kindred, were captured, and brought to Derry, where Coote had them summarily executed, after quarter given, and notwithstanding the heavy ransom which was ofiered for their lives. It was, indeed, a disastrous battle to the Irish—ill- advised as any could have been; and the long train of cala¬ mities which followed it was altogether attributable to the 2 :»hlegmatic obstinacy of the prelate, whose only qualification for a commander was animal courage. The army of tllster, which had been so long the mainstay of the war, was thus entirely broken up, and the Cromwellians were left at liberty to parcel out the land among their adherents, who, doubtless, could not but be grateful to the rashness of Heber MacMahon. As for him, he contrived to make his escape from the bloody field of Letterkenny, in company with lieutenant-general O’Farrell, and some squadrons of horse, riding day and night, without meat or drink, for twenty-four hours, till he and his jaded followers reached the neighbourhood of Enniskillen, where tl^ey were set upon by a detachment from the garrison. The bishop’s escort ofiered what resistance they could, but were soon obliged to yield to superior force, and surrender at discre¬ tion. He himself was severely wounded in this last action, and so was O’Farrell; but less fortunate than the latter, who made his escape, MacMahon was carried prisoner to Enniskillen, and there committed to the common jail, to wait Coote’s final sentence. At that period, John King, afterwards raised to the peerage by Charles the Second, was governor of Enniskillen, and, it must be told to his honour, that he treated the captive bishop with singular humanity ; for he not only visited him frequently, but was so charmed by his frank, soldier-like bearing, that he resolved, if possible, to save his life. Actuated by this gene¬ rous impulse he wrote to Coote that it would be disgraceful to tram^Dle on a fallen enemy, or shed the blood of a man whose followers were crushed and scattered, and could no longer bear arms against the parliament forces. This representation, how¬ ever, was useless, for Coote replied, that MacMahon must be hanged forthwith. The despatch that brought this order en¬ closed the death-warrant; and on perusing it. King thought he 262 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN detected some legal informality wliicli justified him in postpon¬ ing execution till he had made a last appeal for the prisoner’s life. He, accordingly, again wrote to Coote, beseeching him to revoke or commute the sentence ; but all in vain, for he re¬ ceived an angry reply, rebuking him for remissness, and charg¬ ing him to lose no time in consigning the “ Popish bishop” to the gallows. King was sorely grieved at being obliged to com¬ municate this sad intelligence ; and when the bishop signified that he needed some priest to prepare him for his doom, he found no difficulty in obtaining that favour. King took leave of him, and rode away from Enniskillen, that he might not witness the revolting death of a man whom he had learned to esteem. The close of MacMahon’s career was such as might have been expected from one a goodly portion of whose life had been divided between the church and the camp; and much as the Cromwellian troopers admired his undaunted resolution, they never were so deeply impressed by it as on that July evening when they escorted him to the ancient castle of Enniskillen— the place appointed for his execution. Marching some paces in advance of the musketeers, his bearing was calm, dignified, and martial; so much so, that a casual wayfarer might have mis¬ taken him for the officer in command, were it not for the presence of an ecclesiastic, with whom he conversed in tones inaudible to every one else, and a small gold crucifix that he kept constantly moving between his lips and eyes. On reach¬ ing the scaffold he knelt and prayed in silence for awhile, and then, turning to the troops who kept the ground, told them that he thanked God for having given him that opportunity of laying down his life in the cause of religion, king, and country. MacMahon’s soul had scarcely gone to its account, when the executioner, in compliance with the barbarous usage of the time, flung the corpse to the ground, hacked off the head, and spiked it on the tower of the castle, where it remained till birds of prey, rain, storm, and time destroyed every vestige of the ghastly trophy. The mutilated trunk, however, had a happier fate, for major-general King allowed some sympathizing Catholics to convey it to Devenish island, where it awaits the resurrection, under the shadow of St. Laserian’s oratory. Hugh O’Eeilly’s successor in the primacy was Edmond O’Eeilly, a native of the county Dublin. He studied in Douay^ with Lynch, the learned author of Cambrensis Eversus,” “Icon Antistitis,” &c. lieturning to Ireland in 1635, he was arrested at Dartmouth, but being enlarged after some months’ THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 263 IT. i . I i i; 1 I i I I I ( I i imprisonment, he reached Dublin, and was appointed rector of a parish. Resigning the latter, he went to Louvain in 1637, and, although advanced in years—serus studiorum—applied himself to the study of Moral Divinity and Canon Law' in the school of the Jesuits. He subsequently was appointed prefect of the Irish Secular College, and became very intimate with father Thomas Fleming, eldest son of the baron of Slane, who, as we have already stated, exchanged his barony for the cowl and cloister. Being warmly recommended by this Thomas to his uncle, then archbishop of Dublin, he set out for Ireland, and was appointed vicar-general soon after the insurrection of 1641. During the archbishop’s absence in Kilkenny, O’Reilly administered the spiritualities of the diocese, and continued to do so until 1648, when he was removed for a time to give place to father Laurence Arclibold. In 1650 he was restored to the vicar-generalship, and took an active part in the proceedings of the prelates assembled in Jamestown. We find him in the synod held in the woods of Clainnaliere in 1652, when the un¬ fortunate Peter Walsh was declared excommunicate. The latter tells us that he owed his life to the influence of the vicar-general, who dissuaded colonel Fiach O’Tool from seizing and murdering him ; ” but Walsh requited this merciful interposition by calumniating his benefactor, insinu¬ ating, without shadow of proof, that O’Reilly caused several murders to be committed between 1644 and 1645, and that he connived at the burning of the Black Castle—the Dunluce of Wicklow—with the garrison, composed of Protestants and Catholics. “I know not,” says Walsh, “whether this was true or false ; but, at all events, O’Reilly was arrested in the Tholsel, Dublin, and flung into prison, from which he was discharged after a brief detention, and then proceeded to the Irish College at Lile, in Flanders. His enlargement,” says his unscrupulous defamer, “ may be attributed to the services he rendered the Cromwellians by betraying lord Ormond’s camp at Rathmines, and thus securing the victory for Jones, Cromwell’s precursor in Ireland.” The holy see, however, did not view O’Reilly’s character in this light, for he was advanced to the primacy on the recom¬ mendation of Massari, dean of Fermo, and secretary to the Congregation de Propaganda, in 1654, when he was consecrated in the Jesuits’ church at Brussels, by the archbishop of Malines, the archbishop of Ephesus, and Antony MHeoghegan, of Meath. In 1658 he appeared in London, but was obliged to return to France, whence he passed over to Ireland about 1659 or 1660. 264 THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN His stay, however, was not protracted ; for, on the restoration, he was commanded to leave without delay. He then went to Rome, where he remained till 1665, when he wrote to lord Ormond, praying his excellency to be favourable to him, and promising, “ in the sight of God and His angels, that he would endeavour to comply in all points with his sovereign majesty’s will and the viceroy’s commands, as far as shall become a modest, faithful, and thoughtful servant.”* Ormond granted the required permission some time in 1666. Withal, the unfortunate primate had to suffer severely from the pre¬ judices of the viceroy, who could not forget or forgive his de¬ votedness to the nunzio and Owen O’Neill. For these and some other analogous reasons, he was once more imprisoned in Dublin. Some sympathising and influential friends, however, interfered for him, and obtained his liberation on the strict understanding that he would at once leave and never set foot again in Ireland. He then went to Paris, where he lived on the alms of some French prelates. Travelling from Paris to Nantes, he was seized with mortal illness at Saumur, where he closed his chequered career, in peace with God and man. The Oratorian Fathers gave him honourable sepulture in the church of Notre Dame, but there is no monument to mark his last resting-place. Keeping within the limits which the editor of these pages prescribed for himself at the outset, he concludes them with a brief notice of two prelates who highly distinguished themselves among the Confederates. And first of Boetius Egan, bishop of Elphin. He was a native of Park, county Galway, and, when very young, took the Franciscan habit in St. Anthony’s, Lou¬ vain, where he made his religious profession in 1611. A year afterwards, that is, in 1612, Redmond Galvin was slain by the heretics, and the see was governed by vicars-general apostolic until 1626, when Florence Corny, archbishop of Tuam, then all- powerful in the Vatican, recommended Egan as eminently qualified for the mitre of Elphin. After his consecration, which took place in 1626, he resided almost constantly with Dlic Burke, of Glinsk, until the Confederate government ad¬ vanced him to the temporalities of his see. He was highly esteemed by the nunzio, whose policy he appreciated as sincerely as any other of that personage’s adherents. He rebuilt and inhabited the episcopal palace of Elphin, and was singularly re¬ markable for the episcopal virtue of hospitality. Lynch, from * Walsh’s History of the Remonstrance,” p. 611 . THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 265 whose MS. ‘^History of the Irish Bishops” these meagre notices have been taken, states that Egan was profoundly learned, a great patron and encourager of learning, and of most affable manners. So fond was he of the rule of his order, that he in¬ variably wore the Franciscan habit under the episcopal apparel, and lived, as far as circumstances allowed, the austere life of a true son of his j)atron, St. Erancis. He was a good linguist, and cherished a special love for his native Celtic tongue; so much so, that Michael O’Clery dedicated to him his ‘‘Treatise on Obsolete Irish Words,”* which was published in Louvain, 1643. He passed the closing days of his earthly career near the convent of Kilconnel, within whose chapter-house he erected a monu¬ ment for himself. Having outlived most of his contemporaries, he passed out of this life in 1650, aged seventy, having completed the thirty-fifth of his episcopate. In Marsh’s library there is a fine copy of the “ Acta SS. Hib.,” with the author’s autograph, and that of Egan, who presented it as a gift to the library of Kilconnel. O’Mullally, archbishop of Tuam, who died in Galway, 1536, and was buried beneath the grand altar of Bosserilly, was a munificent benefactor of the Kilconnel community; and the author of “ Cambrensis Eversus ” tells us that, when a mere boy, he copied the following words, which he saw richly emblazoned above the chancel arch of its chapel : “ D. Thomas O’Mullally, Archiepiscopus Tuamiae singularis benefactor nostri ordinis.” The second prelate to whom allusion has been made was Arthur Magennis, of the Cistertian order, and nephew to Owen O’Neill, who, five years after the translation of Emer Mac- Mahon from Down and Connor to Clogher, which occurred in 1642, was consecrated bisho23 of the former see by the nunzio at Kilkenny. Another of the same name, Hugh Magennis (in religion, Bonaventuref), governed Down and Connor from 1629 to 1640 ; and in the interval between 1642 and 1647 Arthur, while only bishop-elect, sat in the Supreme Council, and distinguished himself by his steady devotedness to the nunzio’s policy. In this respect he was very like his uncle, who employed him on many occasions as his most trusted con¬ fident in frequent missions to the nunzio. It is almost un¬ necessary to state that he approved Binuccini’s policy, and refused to listen to those prelates and laymen who accepted * There is a fine copy of this most rare work in the Franciscan archives, Dublin, t See Appendix G ffff. 266 THE IRISH HIERARCHY, ETC. Inchiquin’s armistice. He was present at the death-bed of his gallant uncle, in 1649 ; and in 1652 the prelates assembled at Jamestown elected him their representative to proceed to Rome, and lay before the holy father the deplorable condition of Ireland. He accordingly sailed from Innisboffin, with Lynch, bishop of Kilfenora, and some other ecclesiastics who availed themselves of that opportunity to escape from the Cromwellians. They were not more than a few days at sea. when a parliament cruiser gave them chase, and, coming within range, fired into their ship. The shot, which crashed through the bulwarks and into the cabin, where the bishop lay sick, gave such a shock to his nerves, unstrung as they were by illness and anxiety, that he expired a few hours afterwards. More fortunate than his companion in misery, the bishop of Kilfenora escaped un¬ hurt, although the ball sent a shower of splinters into the berth which he occupied. Magennis’s corpse was consigned to the deep, because the wind blowing off the land, would not allow his shipmates to turn the vessel shore wards to procure him a grave in mother earth. Tor upwards of twenty years after¬ wards Down and Connor had no Catholic bishop, till the ap¬ pointment of Daniel Mackay, who succeeded in 1672, and dying in 1675, made way for James Shiel. APPENDIX TO THE lEISH FEANCISCAN MONASTERIES. - ^ -- Appendix A—p. 6. The Four Masters, recording the decease of the founder of Donegal convent, describe him thus : “ O‘Donnell, Hugh Doe, died, A.D. 1505. He was the best protector of the.Church and the learned; a man who had given great alms in honour of the Lord of the elements; a man by whom a castle was first erected at Donegal, that it might serve as a sustaining fortress for his descendants ; and a monastery for friars de Observantia in Tirconnell; a man who may be justly styled the Augustus of the north-west of Europe. He died after having gained the victory over the devil and the world, and after Extreme Unc¬ tion and Penance, at his own fortress in Donegal, on Friday the 5th of the Ides of July, in the 78th year of his age, and was interred in the monastery of Donegal.”' As everything associated with this venerable edifice must interest the reader, we may add that the lord deputy, sir H. Sidney, visited Donegal in 1566, and mentions the monastery thus : “We left behind us a house of Observant Friars, unspoiled or hurt, and with small cost fortifiable, much accommodated with the near¬ ness of the water, and with fair groves, orchards, and gardens which are about the same.” In 1612, five years after the Flight of the Earls, Montgomery, first schismatic bishop of Derry and Paphoe, advised James I. to turn “the partly rebuilt house” into a proselytising seminary, but his majesty disre¬ garded the suggestion. In the neighbourhood of their once beautiful convent the Four Masters compiled the famous Annals, for which Ireland is everlastingly indebted to the Franciscans. Assaroe, the Cistertian monastery in Ballyshannon, has in- 268 APPENDIX TO THE spired one of Mr. Allingliani’s most charming lyrics, and the ruins of Donegal convent have been sung in pathetic numbers by T. D‘Arcy M‘Gee, and more recently by J. F. O’Donnell. Aee “ Memories of the Irish Franciscans.” Dublin—J. Duffy. Appendix B—p. 12. In 1593, during the deputyship of sir William Fitzwilliam, the lords of the juivy council, alarmed by a prophecy supposed to relate to young Hugh Hoe 0‘Donnell, requested Daniel, schismatic archbishop of Tuam, to interpret for them its myste¬ rious import—Who more lit for this task than the cogno- minal of him who explained to Baltassar the handwriting on the wall ? “ Concerning O’Donnell and his country,’' wrote sir W. Fitzwilliam, “ this is to be noted : First, this young O’Donnell, who brake prison from Dublin, is born of a Scottish woman, James McDonnell’s daughter, by whose forward means her son, now O‘Donnell, hopeth to be fully assisted out of Scotland to bring to pass some old prophecy which flieth amongst them in no small request, importing that when two Hughs lawfully, lineally, and immediately succeed each other as O’Donnells, the last Hugh shall forsooth be a monarch in Ireland, and banish thence all foreign nations and conquerors. This prophecy setteth this young O’Donnell in great conceit of himself, and doth much allure the people, wedded to such fancies, to flatter, follow, and favour him; the rather because the Bomish bishops, glad to take any occasion to further their intended innovations, persuade the poor people that this prophecy was first revealed to and uttered by some holy saint, whom not to believe were damnable. This should be considered of and presently pre¬ vented, lest such as they are, persons both believed and almost honoured as gods, be long tolerated and permitted to wander abroad.” There can be little doubt that the foregoing political prophecy was the expression of a desire fondly cherished, in Ulster especially, to prevent the establishment of English rule in that province. The deputy’s account of the reverence enter¬ tained by the Irish people for their bishops and subordinate clergy, although artfully exaggerated, proves how ineffectually he and many of his predecessors laboured to detach the people from their spiritual guides. The subjoined letter, dated Bochelle, 22nd September, 1642, and written by Edmund O’Dwyer, subsequently bishop of Limerick, shows that even he did not discredit the prophecy-mania of his time :— “ Here arrived, out of St. Sebastian’s, colonel Wall’s man. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 269 , and relates three weeks agoe departed from thence two shippes for Galway, with good guns and munitions, where one Hugh O’Neill, a young man, with Irish souldiers, went; also out of St. Malo went two strong shippes for Limerick ten days agoe. If all these did arrive salf, we shall not ever agayne be in the misery we have been in. This colonel Wall’s man tells for [ certain Tyrconnell is not dead, and avowes to have seen one of P: his captaynes at St. Sebastian’s, who said he was well recovered, ' although by all men thought a lost man ; and that he prepares f himself homeward. God grant it be true; by reason, beside his own valour, and that the prophesyes seem to speak of him, ' it will hinder the jarrs of many pretending to that place.” We need hardly add that Hugh Balldearg O’Donnell was hailed by I the Irish Jacobites in 1690 as the son of prophecy. i' i Appendix C—p. 14. < t The following letters from some of the chief actors in the I ' burning of Donegal monastery, now for the first time published, I lend additional interest to father Mooney’s narrative. I Hon. Sir— I am right sorry, and very loath to certifie ' you of that great mischance which hath here happened unto us, but sith ytt is soe chaunced yowe shall understand that this morninge before daye, all our abbaye was sett one ffiare, butt by what occasion cannot be knowne as yett. The fiiare was soe sudden and soe vehiment, as wee could preserve but iiij barrels of powder with some match and led, the rest was all blowin upp, and thereby many of our men slayne and much of our victualls wasted. So soone as O’Donnell had notice thereof he drewe downe with all his fibrces supposinge to have taken the abbaye butt with much travell and a longe fieght wee bett him backe againe when they had gotten and mayn- tayned the wall of the stoare howse ; capten Rand amongest ’ the reste is slayne, I would desire your worship to send us your present directions, and a speedie supplye. Mr. HalVs shipp is alsoe this morninge cast awaye and most of his men, himself with some fewe of his men are hether escaped. My j brother Coyne (Con.) Cage is greevously hurt with the fall of an howse, and I feare, will scarce recover; wee have been \ occasioned to spend some part of that munycion we preserved with the skirmishe and I suppose wee shall daylye be lykewise occasioned, althoughe this daye many of O’Donnell’s men are I alsoe slayne and hurte, I have lost all my goods here, and there- I; fore doubt nott butt my service with my true loyallty this 270 APPENDIX TO THE llaye shewed, will occasion yowe to carry a better opynion of me then Hughe Boye to Davett’s false informacons nrgeth you unto, whose councell I praye you nott to give eare unto jigaynst me, butt lett mee iutreate you as you tender her Ma¬ jesty’s service and our safetyes to supplye us both with men, munycon, victualls, apparell, and all other necessaries with all speed I pray you, for that I stand destitute of all means, lett this beau’er be well recompenced for his paynes, even soe I take leave comending your worship to God’s favor. At the abbaye of Donagall this present Satterday night the 20th of Sep¬ tember, 1601. Your worships most assured, [Addressed,] NAILL G. O’DOHHAILL. To the honorable sir Henry Docrae, Knisht cheife commander of her ■ Majesty’s forces at Loughfoyle, be these dd. Post, Post, Post-haste for her Majesty’s service. You may trust and credytt this bearers relacon. I Hon. Sir— Although I have written many letters unto your worship of late yett I suppose our ill foidune is such as none of them hath been delyvered whereby I thincke you rest not fully certified of the miserable misfortune which by tfiar happened unto us here on Satterday last in the morninge by which most part of our munycion with our utencills and ne- cessaryes, a great part of our victualls ccxli of our mony and all our bedds were burnt, and blown upp : and a great many of our men slayne. The particularies of our losses together with our remaynes of either sort of our iirovisions (which here lest my letter should be intercepted I forbeare to write) I vrritt unto you of by ensigne Disney, whoe yesternyghte departed from hence with the master of the Yarmouth barque and some other passengers in a small boate, supposing to have found that barque rydinge att the harbore’s mouth where the master left ytt and with her to have gon to the Derry : butt as I suppose Mr. Hall whoe on Satterdaye alsoe lost his shippe by reacke and cominge upp hether had gotten some stoar of such things as here was lost, most unhonestlie and unconscionablie had before taken awaye the barque to seas, whereby being disap- poynted, and returning this morning’s tyde they were sett uppon by the rebells, and as we are informed either taken or slayne. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 271 ■ ^ Soe soone as I shall have seciiritie of sendinge my letters, I will certifie you both of our losses and remaynes. But let me intreat you to be very carefull to supplie us with all necessarie provisions so speedyly as possiblie you may, for otherwyse we are lyke^to be in a most dangerous and myserable case. All the provisions sent by Mr. Hall and Huminge 2000 of ffishe onely excepted weve well and in good condition, landed and layed 1 upp, so had been preserved had nott God layed this greivous I crosse upon us.^ XJppon the blowinge upp of our munycion the enymy came with all his forces uppon us, and had almost gotten the^ stoarhouse_ wall (the onely remayn thereof) from us from , which with longe and daungerous skirmish they were driven and ever since most contynewally skirmisheth with us whereby you \ may gesse the great need we have of supplie. Niall Garvy ; writt unto you formerly hereof, whose letter I hope you have receyved, since that tyme wee could gett noe messenger by ^ land, and I fear the letters we sent by sea are miscarried.* Even I soe I humbly take leave. Att Donagall, this 24th of September j Your worship’s most humble to command, ! [Addressed] JOHH FOBTHE.^ To the Honorable Sir Henry Howcrae, knight, chief commander of her Majesty’s fforce att Loughfoyle, be these dd. ( i HioNORABLE SiR The case wee stand in, I have partly tould you in my last letters and now I will repeate it. Throuo-h that unhappie accident of fyre, our losse hath bene very grit both of myne owne people and the Englishe. Our victual! but especially munition is little. Yf you will have us contynue the place it behoueth you with speed to supplye us with men foote and horse, municon and victuall, otherwise I must entreat you not to take it ill, if I come unto you, for here is no abyding without meanes as you may well ymagin. Wherefore I beseech you as you tender our good or your estimacon that you will send speedy releefe. This request I hope will suffice, otherwise I would use more vehemency to move you. The pticulers of my losses this messenger can report, but what most toucheth me I lost by the fyre and in fight my brother €on Ogge and 15 men. I hope by this tyme vou have had * He was chief of the Commissariat. APPENDIX TO THE sufficient tiyall of my loyaltye. Once more for releife, if you take not care for our present reliefe, it ^vill (besides the losse of our lyves) be a great dishonor to the Queen, but especially to you. Concerning the pryvate matter betwixt me and you, I can at your pleasure dispatch wherof I praie you send spteedy answeare. I have many tymes opened my whole mynde concerning many thinges unto you, but have had slowe answeeares. Wherefore I beseech you to give answeare to all. And nowe I commend my dutie to you, and wishe you health and honor. NAILL G. O’DONNAILL. Capt. Paule Gore’s letter dated and sent at the same time. Sir.— I thinke you have heard of the ill accident that befell us the last Saturday morning in which this abbay tooke fire, and thorough the unmeasurable vehemency of the wynde, it was without controll whereupon we used our best helpes to remove the municon, and could no soner gett awaie part but the reste tooke fyre, in which blast a great part of the walls were shivered, Capt. Randes slaine and one of his soldyours. Of my companie were slaine and yrrecoverably hurte 2 ser¬ geants and 20 soldyours, of Capt. Chydley’s one sergeant and some 6 soldyours. Then sodainly we betooke us to armes to provide for the enemie, who quickly fayled not with his best might to assault us. The places we defended were the castle, the storehouse of victuall (which was almost free from the fyre) the fort (newe made “for the munition) and the provost house of good strength. The greatest attempt they gave was at the storehouse, from whence they were repulsed to their losse. Some parte of the abbey they pillaged. The losse to Neale Garve and me hath bene much for our particular, besides the generate cause of greatest moment, by this meanes the number of our men both English and Irishe are lessened. All the places above spoken of we contynue supplie of men, munition and victuall we will expect, as you in your better judgment shall think fit to send, and requisite to the cause. How it shall please you to dispose of this companie of Captaine Randes I knowe not, but if it be dissolved to supply others I wish it might please you in the This private mat¬ ter is touching his agreement with O’Donnell under color whereof he assureth me by oath he wyll gett Lough Eske into his handes, and delyver it to the 0,., and I freely have permitted him to deale in the mat¬ ter. [This note is in sir H. Docwra’s handwriting.— H.C.H.] IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. I 273 “y liatli bene then of all the rest but it and all thinges else I referre to fo“ W ^ •e®''® tlien dutie tifv«nn b ft ^T^n ^ y°" tliis ill newes cer- titjed in better fasbvon and nowe I commend my best endevours to your good opinion and rest Yours, &c., Appendix D— p. 15. PAUL GOEE.* Notwithstanding father Mooney’s statement of the destruc- lon ot the precious books, some of the most valuable of the literary monuments belonging to the library of Donegal have come down to us. The Book of Hymns (Liber Hymnorum) and a part of the Psalter, ni the autograjih of St. Gamin of mscaltra, who flourished in the seventh century, are now in the archives of St. Francis’, Merchants’ quay, Dublin after more ^^lan two centuries’ sojourn in Louvain and S. Isidoro, Home. The Book of Hymns with its glosses is said to be over a thousand_years old; and the Psalm (118th) ‘‘Beati imma- culati in via, all that remains of St. Gamin’s caligraphv ex- cited the admiration of the erudite Ussher, who describes it thus. Habebatur Psalterium, cujus unicum tantum quater- monem mihi videre coutigit, obelis et asteiiscis diligentissime distmctum collatione cum veritate Hebraica in superiore parte cuj usque paginae posita, et brevibus scholiis ad exteriorem marpnem adjectis. Atque illud S. Gamini manu fuisse des- criptum communi traditione ferebatur.”—Usserii, op. v. 6 i). r M 7 • testimony to the exquisite penmanship and philological attamments of an Irish saint, who, more than eleven centuries ago, in the little island of Iniscaltra on lough Derg was abl^e to collate the Yulgate with the Hebrew text, and ennch his work with a lucid interj)retation of obscure words and passages. The celebrated Golgan, who examined the frat^- ment, writes : “ Among the books belonging to the convent of IJonegal are preserved some most ancient commentaries on the 118th Bsalm, which tradition says were written by the hand of fet Bamin. ^ “ Habentur inter libros conventus Dungalensis scholia antiquissima in _Ps. 118, qu^ propria ipsius Gamini manu exarata fert traditio.” The Dublin archives contain also i, -nn* bequeathed twenty i to^the sclatmg and fynishing of Donegall abbey church as it y now stands. The place was afterwards used for Protestant worship. T I 274 APPENDIX TO THE the ten folios long missing from the Book of Leinster (compiled by MacGorman, bishop of Kildare, 1160), which is now in Trinity college library, but formerly belonged to Donegal convent. Among the other Gaedhelic MSS. in the same depo¬ sitory, of which our metropolis may be justly proud, will be found the Martyrology of Cathal MacGuire, and that of Donegal, together with the autograph of the first part of the Annals of the Four Masters brought down to a.d. 1169, with all the approbations, introductory matter, and autograph notes by father John Colgan. Appendix E—p. 26. Lord deputy Fitzwilliam, in a letter to Burghley, dated 1591, December 30, states that ‘Hhe Erie since his marriage hath bestowed grete coste of building at Dungannon, as also at London, to furnish and deck that house, which are good tokens, and argue great good hope of his dutifull lief hereafter.” Appendix E—p. 30. “ The erle of Tirone,” writes Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Dec., 1591, “went down a little before Christmas with his ladie to Dongannon, and at the least of gentlemen and other well- willers of his and his ladies out of the English Paale, to the numbre of a hundred or two went with him as I am told.” On Mabel’s death six years after her marriage, sir W. Bussell, then lord deputy writes :—“ It is further to be con¬ sidered seeing the countesse of Tirone is dead, as was certefyed by my last; what likelyhood there is that the erle will seeke to strengthen himself by some match in Scotland, yf some present course bee not taken for prevention thereof.” Knowing how closely and jealously he was watched by the government, O’Neill at a subsequent period had good reason for complaining that he could not enjoy a carouse with friends in his castle of Dungannon, without having it reported to the executive in Dublin. Appendix G—p. 39. The tomb erected by James Nugent still exists in the church, and bears the following inscription: Sumptih^is Jacobi Nugent, F. Richardi Nugent de Donower, qui ohiit, 18 Feb. A.D. 1615.” There is also a monument to a descendant of William Delamer, the original founder. There can be little doubt that the venerable edifice was considerably restored in 1644-5, when IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 275 Richard Ni^ent, lord Delvin, sat in the upper, and Piers Nugent, of Ballyimcorr, in the lower house of the Catholic Confederates in Kilkenny. The Nugents of Donore, have always proved generous friends to the Franciscans of Multifer- nan, nor should we forget that the rev. Mr. Conway, who was guardian in 18^8, took great pains to preserve the monastery. • ^ entitled de Monte Fernando,'' were written in Multifernan as is clearly proved by Dr. Aquila Smith in his learned Introduction ad Annal. de M. F., published in the Arch^logical Tracts relating to Ireland. Sir Henry Piers, in his Description of Westmeath,” states that the rebellion of 1641 was planned within the walls of Multifernan, and that the convent was, at that period, a flourishing establishment. Kittle reliance, however, should be placed on the baronet’s assertion, for, although we were to accept his statement, we remember that Multifernan was visited in 1642 bv Tmhbourne,. governor of Drogheda, who after burning, as he himself informs us, “ all the corn and houses in the neighhour- hood, was not likely to spare the monastery, had it been then ^ike its ancient beauty. We may also add that Jones, the parliament general, made a raid on the place about the beginning of 1648, when he was stoutly en¬ countered by the Franciscan fathers, who, aided bv the peasantry and some soldiers beat him ofi*. - Franciscanis cum nonnulhs militibus^se generose defendentibus.”— Fapers. In the admirable memoir of Gabriel Beranger, contributed by sir W. Wilde to the Journal of the Kilkenny Archaeological Society, we find that the distinguished French artist visited Multiternan in August,^ 1779, accompanied by Bigari whose picture of the ruined edifice is engraved in Grose’s Antiq. vol, 1 ., plate 121. The abode of the Franciscans was then “a small thatched convent.” ‘^The rev. fathers came out,” says Beran- ger ‘^and invited us to refresh ourselves; went in; drank some bottles of good claret with them; found them learned gentle¬ men, well versed in antiquities.” ^ Appendix H —p. 259. In addition to what we have already said about Timoleague 5Cl 1 particulars from the Calendar of State Papers 1611 , 1614 , will not be unacceptable to the reader. In a brief relation of passages in the parliament of 1613, it is set forth tiat on the death of Elizabeth, and accession of James, the 276 APPENDIX TO THE Catholics “in contempt of the laws re-edified monasteries—Fore, Kilconel, Koserk, Bntevant, Kilcrea, Quin, Muckrus in Des mond, Kilkenny, Waterford, wherein friars publicly preach and say Mass ; and the cities, towns, and counties swarm with priests and Jesuits more than in former times ; and in the fields seditious sermons are ^^I'eached, whereunto thousands resort. The law fee, 12d., for not coming to church on Sunday, the Papists resist; and their sons they send to be educated in Spain, France, Italy, and the archduke’s dominions.” From the same valuable source we extract some passages of a sermon preached on the 11th October, 1613, by Turlogh MacCrodyn, a Franciscan friar, at a place called Poodan, in the barony of “ Loghenesolyn,” in county of Londonderry, where one thousand people and fourteen priests assembled to hear him :—“ He prayed long, exhorting them to reform their wicked lives, telling them of drunkenness, and lack of devotion and zeal; he willed them to take heed that they were not tempted for fear or desire of gain to go to the English service, telling them ‘ that these were the devil’s words which the English ministers spake, and that all should be damned that heard them.’ He willed them to stand on their keeping and go into rebellion rather than go to the English service, and to suffer death by hanging and quartering sooner than submit themselves to their dam¬ nable doctrine ; exhorting them in the name of God to fast and pray. He stated that the pope had sent him unto them, and that his holiness had a care both of their souls and bodies, and that they should not despair nor be dismayed, though for a time God punished them by suffering their lands to be given to strangers and heretics, as this was a punishment for their sins; he wound up by assuring them Ghat it should not be long before they were restored to their former possessions.’ ” At the end of the sermon MacCrodyn got, according to the de¬ position of MacGlone, who reported the proceedings to Chi¬ chester, “60 cows and 100 sheep; the poorer people giving him 12d. each.” In the congregation were two merchants, Patrick O’Coshegie and Edmond MacPhelomy O’Hagan, who bought the cows, which he, MacGlone, “ thinks is but a colour, and that they do but convey them to Dundalk and Tredagh [Drogheda], where they are salted to be sent away to Louvain for use of the friars resident there. The sheep are disposed among the priests of the country till they can be sold and con¬ verted into money.” The delator subsequently tells us that the moneys thus levied were for the maintenance of the recusant lords who went to London in the hope of being able to obtain IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 277 from the king toleration of the Catholic religion. MacCrodyn, it appears, was entertained in the house of Owen Oge O’Hagan, where he said Mass every day, many resorting to him. As for the 'personnel of the preacher, here it is : ‘‘ He is about 30 years old, a native of Tyrone, within three miles of Dun¬ gannon. He wears English apparel over his friar’s weeds, and a rapier by his side.” The same preacher, according to another informant, appears on a Sunday in a glen in Bryan MacGuire’s country, where he said Mass, and preached to 1000 people, all of Fermanagh, that they should rather go into rebellion than change their religion. On this address of the friar, O’Neill, of the Largye, spoke aloud, thanking God for having sent him— the preacher—among them, and pledging himself to go into rebellion sooner than renounce the faith. He then spoke to them of a collection for the expenses of men going into England for the cause of religion, and of the knights of the shire, at 4d. on each couple, and exhorted them to pay it cheerfully, as it was the cause of God. The concluding passage of the sermon must have been cheered to the echo in that Fermanagh glen when MacCrodyn told his hearers ‘‘that Tyrconnel was coming at the head of 18000 men sent by the king of Spain, and that, according to a prophecy in a book at Borne, England had only two years more to rule in Ireland! ” But, despite the prophecy, Chichester’s government had resolved to expel all friars, monks, and nuns, out of the dissolved houses, “ where for the most part’ they still keep and hover ; ” and it was also enacted, “ that if these persons to whom the king had let or given these houses or lands shall, by negligence or otherwise, suffer them, the said friars, monks, and nuns, to continue there contrary to his law, or shall participate in their abominable lures, supposed offerings, or oblations, as many do, they shall forfeit their estate to the king, and endure fines and imprisonment.” Confronted by such obstruction, how could the friars think of re-edifying their venerable houses. Timoleague was one of those which the Franciscans strove to restore; and the serio-comic incident re¬ lated at p. 53 suggested the following graceful and vigorous ballad by T. D. Sullivan :— TIMOLEAGUE. In Timoleague’s old convent pile. By Courtmasherry’s placid bay, A monk sat in the bell-tower, while Down sunk the sun of a summer day; 278 APPENDIX TO THE Tlie waters caught the roseate glow— The swelling fields of Barryroe, And all the westward Carbery heights, As evening faded soft and slow, Smiled warmly in the tender lights. The good man saw the scene was fair— He felt the calm of sea and land. He heard his brethren’s hymn of pray’r Float upward on the balmy air; Then clasping in his bony hand His large black bead, he bent and swayed With deep emotion, while he prayed That Ireland’s trouble soon might cease— That soon might come the days of peace, When the dear land, from shore to shore. Would see her wealth and joy increase. Her Church still loved, and honoured more. Her temples safe, her shrines secure. Her holy monks and priesthood free For their sweet work of charity. To save and bless the rich and poor. But almost ere the prayer was sped From his pure lij)s, a sense of dread Thrilled through him in that quiet hour; And casting round a furtive glance, O Christ! he saw the quick advance Of Saxon troops. He scarce had pow’r To call, to shriek, to strike the bell. To rush below from cell to cell. To summon all his startled freres. When crash ! in splinters went the door— The soldiers tramped across the floor. Burst to the chapel, laughed and swore A goodly prize was theirs. Who prayed, who pleaded, spoke in vain— They struck the babbler to the earth ; They rode their steeds into the fane— They battered out each picture-pane. And cheered their hearts with brutal mirth. The carven panels from the walls They hacked with halberd and with sword— They riddled through with musket balls IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 279 The altar of the Lord. Down from the ebon cross they tore The slender golden crucifix— They tumbled out upon the fioor The chalice and the pyx. With brawny hands, with thick-shod feet, With heavy musket ends, they beat The gold to lumps upon the fiags ; Then vowing Twas a lucky treat. They packed it in their saddle-bags; And as the humour of the place Was evermore to praise and pray, Before they went they’d show their grace By pausing just to say— That was a generous saint indeed, Who, in their day of real need. When wine was scarce and cash was slack, Had set them on that blessed track, And after hours of sore fatigue Had led them safe to Timoleague, By Courtmasherry bay. Oh ! monks of God will bend and bear. And, when the heart’s wild storms would rise, Calm words of Christ their ears will hear. His cross will loom before their eyes. But in the holy house, that eve. One stern old man—no monk was he— While they could only groan and grieve. Spoke from his hot brain hastily— “ O great Saint Francis ! sitting now Full in the smile of God’s bright face, You see this ruin—you allow This cruel wrong—this sad disgrace ! You see your monks thus beaten, bruised. Your house profaned and ravaged thus— You see the holy things abused. You hear those words so blasphemous ! And will you let the robbers go Bejoicing back the way they came. Weighted with precious spoil, to show To many another greedy foe The profits of their easy game ? Oh ! I have laboured gladly here 280 APPENDIX TO THE While many a tranquil year went round, To carve and shape and polish fair What now lies wrecked upon the ground. But if the sacrilegious hands Of Saxon troops may ruin all— If, when they please, those ruffian bands May shatter altar, window, wall— If this base crew before me now Shall pass from hence unhurt away, O great Saint Francis ! hear my vow— I’ll not work here another day. I’ll cast my well-loved tools aside. I’ll tramp and travel far and wide. And let your monks as best they may Befit their convent by the side Of Courtmasherry bay. As though the words, so rough and quaint. Of that old workman touched the saint. And lifted God’s resistless hand Against the ruthless robber band. His vengeance came. The monks looked out Through door, and chink, and broken sash— They heard the Irish battle-shout. They beared the meeting weapons clash. Oh ! sight of joy !—they saw ’twas he. The valiant Donal of Dunbuidhe ! A generous friend, a champion true, As their loved Order ever knew. And for whose weal, by Bantyr’s wave. Upon the lands his fathers gave, Franciscan brothers, as the light Of morning touched the mountain grass. Bowed down in prayer and sacred rite. And offered Christ His holy Mass. The clansmen by the chieftain’s side Were few indeed, but trained and tried In many a fierce and bloody fight On sea and land, by day and night; And never since they battled first Against the foes they held accurst Bushed they into the battle’s din With rage like that which flamed within Their bosoms now, as on they burst IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 281 •I To smite the ruffians in their sin. Short was the combat. Fiercely well The troopers fought, and loud they swore j By twos and threes and tens they fell I. Beside the walls, before the door. The leader, of the ribald jest f And mocking prayer profanely bold. Fell, cloven downward to the breast, j Nor longer clutched the beaten gold. And hearts that late were all adance To shameful laughter’s ringing peal. An instant felt the keen advance I And quick retreat of icy steel 1 Then throbbed no more. The few who sought '' flight to ’scape the fatal thrust i Were quick pursued and sudden brought I Low as their brothers in the dust, j One horseman only, faint and pale, j Sped from the field of death away— j Spared to make known the dreadful tale, I And shout the warning on the gale— ^ Beware the abbey in the vale By Courtmasherry bay.” Appendix I—p. 58. ^ The convent of Moyne is still the burial-place of the O’Dowds. Sir B-ichard Musgrave, in his notice of captain James O’Dowd, who was executed at Killala in 1798, states, “that they (the O’Dowds) have a burying-place in Moyne, where may be seen the gigantic bones of some of them who have been very re- ^ markable for their great stature, as some of them exceeded seven feet in height.” Appendix J —p. 66. ( As this is the only account we have of the personal appear¬ ance of the gallant Hugh Boe O’Donnell, it occurs to us that ' some of our readers might wish to see the original text, which I is as follows : “ Hie erat statura mediocrem excedente, corpore |i robustus, vultu et forma ac aspectu decorus, voce canorus. In actionibus vivax et celer, justitise cultor, et malefactorum aceri- ; mus vindex. In propositis constans, in promissis verax, laborum ifi 282 APPENDIX TO THE patientissimus. In disciplina militari rigidus et severus. In aggrediendo quociinque arduo negotio animosissimus, in bello fortis. Erga omnes urbanus, et afFabilis. Restitutionis catbo- licse fidei magnns zelator. Mundi etiam magnns contemptor, quern ssepe audivi dicentem si semel bello finis bonus impone- retur, se futurum religiosum ordinis S. Francisci. Non erafc conjugatus. Erat magni animi, sed non superbi. Zelabat multum ecclesiasticam disciplinam et reformationem, ita ut zejo forte immoderato, quibusdam sacerdotibus gravem se ostenderet. Ordinem S. Erancisci singulariter amabat, et in omnibus acti- onibus erat valde sincerus. Nunquam de incontinentia notatus. Ssepe volebat virorum spiritualium consilio regi. Tandem moriens babitum S. Francisci petiit, in eoque sepultus est, eumque petiit cum proposito si convaluisset, nunquam in sseculo manere.” Appendix K—p. 67. Tbe entire territory of West Connaught having been con¬ fiscated in the seventeenth century, the O’Flaherties were ousted from their lands and thrown penniless on the world. In his dire distress, Brian, son of Murchad-na-maor (of the Stew¬ ards), having got possession of the chalice and certain vest¬ ments belonging to the monastery of Kilconnell, made his way to Brussels, where he placed the sacred objects in the hands of some Irish Franciscans of Louvain, whom he met in the former city. The history of this incident is best told in Brian’s acknow¬ ledgement* of a sum of money given him by the friars, who, as it appears by the contemporary Latin document subjoined, were obliged to borrow, from one Patrick Hugoin, 200 florins, to compensate the dispossessed O’Flaherty : I, Brian O’Flaherty, son of Murchad-na-maor, acknowledge that I have given into the hands of father Patrick O’Hea, of the friars minors of Erin, in Louvain, the Mass-chalice of the convent of Kilconnell, and that I received from the fathers twenty pounds for my trouble and expenses therein ; and I ac¬ knowledge in presence of my God, that if I was not in great want, I would ask nothing of the beloved friars, to whom I was a friend and benefactor during my power; and in token thereof, I impose obligation on myself and my heirs after me, if we ever come unto the power or rule of our country, that they shall * The original, in Irish, is now in the archives of St. Francis’, Dublin. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 283 give return and satisfaction to tlie convent of friars aforesaid of Kilconnell ; in confirmation whereof I write my name in Brussels, this 13th July, 1654. BRYAN OTLAGHERTY.” “ Infrascriptus coram subsignatis testibus attestor, et obligo meipsum nomine conventus de Kilconnell ord. S. F. strictioris observantiae provinciae Hib., eruditissimo D.D. Patricio Huogo- nino exponenti 200 fiorenos pro sacris ornamentis dicti conventus depositis in manibus generosi domini Bernard! O’Flaherty— Murchad-na-maor—respondere et satisfacere, eumque per omnia indemnem reddere, et pro majore securitate attestationis eadem paramenta in ejusdem praefati Patricii manibus deposita re- linquo, in cujus rei fidem propria manu subscribo. Datum Bruxellis, 13 Julii, 1654. S. MORRISHY, Eccl. Kilm. pastor. THAD. KELLY, sacerdos. Fr. HUGO THADEI.” In 1678, the castle of Bunowen, and the adjoining lands once the domain of the O’Flaherties, were granted to the Geoghegans of Castletown, county Meath, in lieu of their estates forfeited by the Crown. The Geoghegans changed their name and religion; and the last possessor of Bunowen levelled the castle, and in his turn was made landless by the Landed Estates Court. The ancient line of the O’Flaherties is well represented by Martin F. O’Flaherty, Esq., Lidecan, a worthy and dear friend of the present writer. We are indebted to Mr. Dermod Fox of Kilconnell for some interesting facts in connexion with the more recent history of the convent, which merit a formal record here. In 1865, in consequence of the growing dilapidation of the place, a public subscription was set on foot with a view to arrest further decay. This appeal having met with a liberal response, from Protestants as well as Catholics, sufiicient funds came to hand to enable the committee to replace all the mullions mis¬ sing from the windows, and also to restore some portions of the fine tracery which had been greatly injured by time. Many of the principal objects of interest in the convent, and amongst others an arch missing from a cloister have been thus pre¬ served. The work having been carried out under the superinten¬ dence of a competent architect, there are good grounds for 284 APPENDIX TO THE hoping that this timely, and by no means inconsiderable outlay of money, has secured one of the most beautiful of our national monuments against further decay for many years. It is a pleasure to add, that the initiatory movement which led to such a gratifying result is due to an English clergyman, the Rev. E. Muriel, who, in virtue of his office of rector of Kilconnell, was then the legal guardian of its ancient convent. Having already mentioned the book presented by Egan to Kilconnell we take this opportunity to state that Marsh's library preserves the autograph copy of the Latin and Irish Vocabulary compiled by Richard Plunket of the Franciscan convent. Trim, in 1662. The caligraphy of this small folio MS. volume is very beautiful, and its author is lamented in the following verses by Patrick Dardis, a member of the same religious house. IN OBITUM D. RICARDI PLUNKET. “ Non sibi parturiit pereundum morte Ricardum Mundus, qui superis non moriturus obit. Luce bonus ; linguae verus lustrator lernes: Ingenii isque sagax vixit; et interiit. Mortis atrae dira, coeli sublimia scandit, Non sibi, sed nobis, falce peremptus, obit.” Appendix L—p. 68. There is a local tradition that O’Donnellan of Ballydonnellan built a portion of the church and monastery ; and it is certain that Tully O’Donnellan, in 1412, erected the mortuary chapel which to this day is called Chapel-Tully. Kilconnell is stdl the burial place of the O’Donnellans, and there is a cross on the roadside leading to the monastery, erected in 1682, with the following inscription : “ Orate pro D. J. Donnelano ejusque familia qui hanc crucem erigi fecit.” Appendix M—p. 70. In 1611, Valentine Blake Fitz-Thomas, then mayor, built a mortuary chapel for himself and his posterity on the south side of the choir; and in 1642, Richard Martin, of Dungorie, be¬ queathed a considerable sum for the erection of a chapel in the same monastery of Galway. In 1643, father Valentine Brown, then guardian, caused the ancient church to be re-opened, and Mass was sung for the first time since the suppression. The IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 285 i r 1 same guardian, whose name figures in Rinuccini’s despatches, repaired the founder’s tomb, and spared no pains to restore the sacred edifice, from which the friars were ultimately ejected in 1652, when Cromwell’s soldiers, under governor Stubbers, destroyed the church and its rich monuments. Stephen Lynch, Francis Birmingham, and Francis Burke were members ^ of the Franciscan community of Galway, and distinguished themselves by their learned works, published at Borne, where ^ they died about 1690. , Appendix N—p. 73. Oliver Bourke, Esq. barrister-at-law, has given us a beautiful little volume treating of Bosserilly, for whose restoration he , has laboured lovingly; the work to which we refer has been i published by Ponsonby, Dublin. The late sir William Wilde I has treated the same subject in his beautiful work, Lough- I Corrib. Appendix 0—p. 75. ’ This arch hypocrite and apostate Franciscan was appointed by Pius V., in 1566, bishop of Down. A year afterwards he conformed to the new religion, and queen Elizabeth was so pleased at this that she promoted him to the see of Clogher in 1570. In 1571 he was translated to the archbishopric of Cashel which he held until 1622, when he died, aged one hundred years. The career of this wretched man is too well known to ! require more than a few brief notices here. He at one time held four bishoprics, was avaricious, profligate, and unfaithful 1“ to the government that promoted and patronized him. He i married twice, and had many children, about whom Andrew, i I bishop of the Isles, wrote to the archbishop of Canterbury^ ;—• July 4, 1611, “The archbishop of Cashel is old and unable, and wife and children will not accompany him to the church,” his paramour reared her offspring Catholics, and Miler en¬ riched them with the spoil of the see of Cashel, which he I dilapidated for their sake and his own sordid gratifications. In July of the year 1611, Knight was appointed his coadjutor, ‘ with all profit arising from said jurisdiction of Cashel; but growing weary of the employment, and frequently appearing drunk in the streets, he resigned and returned to England, i r- ♦ “Calendar of State Papers, Ireland, 1611, 1614.” 286 APPENDIX TO THE leaving his chief enormously rich and possessing numerous benefices in various dioceses. Did Miler ever think of the vow of poverty, and the other vows which he made before the altar of Aracoeli? His sons became very wealthy and succeeded to the large estates which their father contrived to make “ out of robberies on the churches.’’ James I. strove in vain to compel them to make restitution. Miler was a long time a crippled and helpless invalid before he left this life. There is some reason for believing that he made his peace with the Church and died penitent. O’Kearney, archbishop of Cashel, obtained, in August 1608, from Paul V. faculty to absolve him, and we may reasonably suppose that his Holiness would not have been asked to grant this privilege if the dying centenarian had not requested to be received back into the Church. The whole life of Miler is as enigmatical as the closing couplets of the epitaph which he composed and set up for himself in the cathedral of Cashel. MILERI MAGRATH Archiepiscopi Casheliensis ad viatorem Carmen. Venerat in Dunum prime sanctisimus olim, Patricius, nostri gloria magna soli. Huic ego succedens, utinam tarn sanctus ut file, Sic Duni prime tempore proesul eram. Anglia, lustra decern sed post tua sceptra colebam, Principibus placui, marte tonante, tuis. Hie ubi sum positus, non sum, sum ubi non sum; Sum nec in ambobus, sum sed utroque loco. Dominus est qui me judicat, Qui stat timeat ne cadat. William Casey, another apostate, was advanced to the see of Limerick by Edward VI. This personage, who figures in a satire composed by Owen O’Duffy, a Franciscan priest and famous poet of the period, was deprived on the accession of queen Mary, but restored in 1571 by Elizabeth. In 1587, four vears before his death, he made the subjoined palinode, for the publication of which we are indebted to the right hon. lord Emly. “ The reconcilement of bishop Casey to the Catholic Church, sent from Dublin in 1587 to sir F. Walsingham, secretary of state, by Andrew Trollope, his friend and correspondent:—‘ I William Cahessy, priest, sometime named bishop of the diocese of Limerick, yet nothing canonically consecrated, but by the schismatical authority of Edward, king of England, schismati- IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 287 cally preferred to the bishopric of Limerick aforesaid, wherein I confess to have offended my Creator, my soul, and my neio-li- bours, and to have suppressed the Catholic faith, not without great offence of all men and danger of their souls; have openly in the cathedral church, before the people, preached against the sacraments and rites of the Church, and in my sermons have called the same Edward (to the intent I might obtain his o-ood will), against my conscience, the supreme head of the Churdi of England and Ireland. The altars dedicated to God I have destroyed; the communion of heretics I have set forth to the clergy and people, and have compelled the Catholic priests thereunto against their consciences; and the name of the sacrifice of the Mass I have abolished. Alas ! wretch that I am—I have committed many other evils ; wherefore I, wretched sinner, desirous to repent and to beware hereafter, beinf^ smitten inwardly with the sorrow of my heart for my wicked deeds, I will, if I may, be numbered among the sons of the. Holy Mother of the Church, and be united and received to the same. And because that I know that that most gentle mother doth not shut her bosom to any that returns, neither doth she receive any man which doth not acknowledge himself to be hers by his confession; therefore by this my confession, not comjoelled thereunto but by mere good will, my conscience accusing me, for the satisfaction of my offence I do confess and believe,^ as a Christian and a Catholic man ought to believe, all the articles of the faith and all the sacraments of the Church j and I believe that the Eoman Church is the head of all churches, and that the bishop of Home, Pius the Fourth, or any other being rightly and canonically elected and ordained in the Catholic see, is the "V"icar of Christ on earth. I believe that he hath all power of binding and loosing by Christ; and do believe and hold whatsoever the Catholic Church doth believe and hold; and do detest all the errors, opinions, and ceremonies of Lutheran heretics or their sects, being estranged from the Catholic faith and instructions of old fathers. I renounce also •—if I might have the same—the bishopric of Limerick; the charge and administration of the said cure j also other benefits and privileges received from the said Edward and other heretics and schismatics. And I draw unto the said holy and universal Church and do bow myself unto her laws; and I embrace the rev. lord David Wolfe, appointed the apostolical messenger for all Ireland from the most holy lord the pope; and I pray and beseech that as a lost child he receive me again into the bosom of the Holy Mother of the Church ; and that he will absolve 288 APPENDIX OF THE me from all the ecclesiastical sentences, censures, punishments, heresies, rules, and every other blot—dispense with me and reconcile me again to the unity of the same Church. In assurance of which reconciliation, submission, and confession, I have put and caused to be put my seal, together with my own hand subscription.’ There being witnesses—David Arthur, dean; John Lynch; Edmond Arthur; Thomas Fanning, and others. This was done about sixteen years sithence.” En¬ dorsed—A copy of a reconcilement which, as I am credibly informed, was within these sixteen years made by the now bishop of Limerick, in the presence of the now dean of Limerick, whereof some of their names are thereunto written.” The authenticity of this retraction is confirmed by a passage of a memorial presented by Thornburgh, Anglican bishop of Limerick, to lord Cecil in 1594 : ‘‘That the late bishop dis¬ claimed his title by publique recantation in the church before the pope’s legate, to the great offence of her majesty’s blessed government, sayinge that by schismaticall authoritie he was schismatically preferred.” Petitioner prays that all leases made by Casey be declared void ; and winds up by begging her majesty to bestow on him all the lands concealed in Ireland to the yearly value of XI00 sterling. In another memorial Thorn¬ burgh desires, “ that the commission for causes ecclesiastical established for four dioceses in Munster—Limerick, Cloyne, Cork, and Roscarberie—be renewed for the whole province, because the churches lye waste for the most part thro’out that province, being not againe very well peopled, and chieflie because semi- naires and dangerous recusants shift from the places alreadie subject to the commission, to Emlie, to Cassell, and to Water¬ ford, diocesse exempt from that authoritie.” Another passage shows how steadfastly the citizens of Limerick resisted the tyranny of Thornburgh, who invokes the aid of the secular power thus : “ That letters be written from her majestie’s honorable council in England to the mayor and aldermen of the cittie of Limerick, requiring them to bring their wives and families and children to the bishop’s sermons, who hitherto hath painfully preached to them every sabaoth dale, and whom her majestie purposely sent to them for their instruction and soul’s health; and that the said mayor assist the bishop for exeqution of justice according to her majesty’s laws.” The unscrupulous character of this solecism on the name of a bishop is best shown by the following letter, in which he begs Cecil to aid him in procuring the assassination of Hugh, earl of Tyrone :— “ My good lord —My desire for the good of the state IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 289 makes me trouble your lordsliip ; and toucliiiig tlie earl of Tirone I am persuaded hereof lie will venture not only credit but^ life. He practiseth peace onelie to gaine better oppor- tiuiities to serve liis turne, for he stayeth in meane while for direction from Rome and for supplie from Spaine. This peace IS more dangerous than war, except his courses can by spiall be jDi evented, which shall be done by XJdall, as he promiseth me, upon his enlargement, he is well able to do it, and I per¬ suade myself he is most willing and wil be most faithfull. I had taste hereof at my last being in England, where by his meanes I tooke Gravener, who had he lived could have spoken much—for he knew all. Udall’s desier is, if your honour thinke fit to send him some one from England to consort with him who may seme religious with him, and then it shall well appeare what speciall service he will the rather with helpe per- foim, whatsoevei Tyrone plot or practise. This is a great secret, and it is desired that your honour acquaint her excellent majestie therewith. Divers of great sorte as yet in supposed loyaltie, expect to heare Tyrone’s directions and authoritie to be sent from Rome ; which if it come, as the great number of popish bysLops and seminaries in this land assure them, then actum est. “ Tirone is the hope of all Irishrie. If he were not they should be all overthrown and undone ; and when they be satis¬ fied from Rome they are all determined to participate with him. They^ say they labour by Tyrone only for liberty of conscience ; but if to much liberty had not been given heretofore they had no siitch conscience nowe. The priests and byshops confes that Tirone was a traytor, but yet lawfull for him to rebell; but both they and the whole Irishrie are taught now a new lesson ‘ —OHeill is no traytor; Tirone was one, but O’Heill none. What this meaneth judge you.”'^ Appendix P—p. 77. A silvei chalice, of fine workmanship, now in the possession of an Irish priest in Quebec, bears the following inscription in Irish: ^ ‘‘ Mary, daughter of Maguire, wife of Brian Oge O Ruairc, caused this chalice to be made for her soul, for the friars of Donegal, the age of Christ, 1633.” Inside the pedestal ‘‘John O’Mullarkey, O’Donel’s silversmith, made me.” * This letter was written in 1595. u 290 APPENDIX TO THE Appendix Q—p. 78. A memoi-andiim in Harris’s MSS. Collections (R.D.S.) says that Ballyrourke monastery was never wholly finished; and that the princess Margaret, wife of Owen O’Rourke, was in¬ terred in the wooden church—“ ecclesia lignea ’’—which she caused to be built for Franciscans near Hromahaire, in West Brefihey. Sir W. Betham states that a gentleman residing in Thurles possessed a reliquary bearing the following inscription in Irish : “A prayer for MacKir—, who made this reliquary for Brian, son of Owen O’Ruairc, and Margaret, daughter of the lord O’Brien, and wife of Brian, son of Owen O’Ruaii’c, the age of Christ, 1509.” F. Francis Ward, in his notice of Ballyrourke, written about 1630, says the heretics 2 :)reserved the church to make money by interments within its walls; and that the friars had a residence near it in 1618, under the guardianship of father Eugene Field. “ An. suprad. ecclesia occupata fuit ab hiereticis qui spe lucri earn ad sepulturam Catholicorum integram servaverunt.”* Appendix R—p. 82. Besides the Butlers, barons of Cahir, many of the gentry of Clonmel and its neighbourhood had sumptuous tombs in the Franciscan church. The Prendergasts of Newcastle—one of whom, about 1555, married Joan, daughter of the first baron of Cahir—were accustomed to bury within the same precincts. J. P. Prendergast, esq., the distinguished barrister and his¬ torian, holds the original of the subjoined will, executed by one of his ancestors in 1626 :— “ In Nomine Dei. Amen. I, Thomas Prindergast fitz Gefiery, of Newcastle in the county of Tipperary, though sick of bodie, yet, praysed bee God, of perfect witt, and memorye. Doe constitute, ordaine, and appointe this as my last Will and Testament in manner following. First, I commit my soule to the Holye Trinitye, to the Blessed Virgin Marye, and to all the Saints in Heaven, and doe appoint my body to bee buryed in Saint Francis’ at Clonmelle with my ancestors.” * In the above yeai' the church was held by heretics who for lucre’s sake let it as a burial place for Catholics, IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 291 Appendix S —p. 86. Father Baron, whose true name was FitzgeraJd, descended from a branch of that family settled in Burnchurch, county Kilkenny, and was born in Clonmel, 1610. He received the hrst rudiments from a certain Saul who taught in his native town; and was afterwards sent to Waterford, where he made great progi-ess in the seminary of one Flaccii.% a nickname, 1 ^’ scholars to their flap-eared teacher. In 1 ’ plkland, then viceroy, accompanied by Boyle, first earl of Cork and OiTery, visited Clonmel, whose citizens elected young Baron to compose an address in honour of the occasion, which he himself read in presence of Falkland and his retinue. Iinpresswl by the youth’s admirable manner and gi-acefiil eniin- ciation, Boyle proposed to take him into his household ; but on learning that he was a Catholic his lordship would have nothiim to do witli liim. * Baron tells us in his autobiography (MS.) now in St. Francis’, iJublin, that when far advanced in life the clergy of Cashel* elected him for the bishopric of that see, but it doeJnot appear, however, that Rome preconized him. Before producing the patents of his appointments in the court of Duke Cosimo we need make no apology for presenting the reader with’the tollomng stanzas, which besides their literary merit are valua¬ ble, because relating to a priest of Baron’s order slain by Cromwell in Clonmel. ^ DEEMITIUS MOLEONIUS, O.S.F. HIB. CLONMELIENSIS, PRO FIDE CAPITE PLEXUS, SAXGUINEM SISTIT. “ Qua suos Hyblaeo dignos agnomine cives Surius angustis ornat et armat aquis, Ne qua tuae proli, Francisce, trophea deessent, iutulit armatas mors violenta manus. Non tamen arma viro, non mors violenta volenti, VIX satis in sectam sseviit ansa cutem. ^ Nempe ubi ferali collo caput abscidit ictu, Abstinuit medio cruda cruore manus. Stagnavit tumidis sanguis per vulnera venis Et caro purpureo substitit uda vado. ’ Gemmis inquis erat dignus cruor ; ast ego, nulla Gemma reor tali digna cruore fuit.” _ *‘‘A civibus postulatus et similiter oneri et honori. __ Ms. penes Franciscanos Dublinienses. . antistibus; sed non respondi, et cessi illi impar, boc mdignus.’’—Baron, biographia, 292 APPENDIX TO THE Revmo. Padke Sigee. mio Sigre. e Peon. Colmo. Non Sara forse ingrato a VP, Rexma. die le avvisi a proposito deir ottimo, e dotissimo Padre Baronio, come adesso appiinto, lio riceviito il seguente Libretto, mandatomi dal suo Antore. “Patris P, Bonaventurje Baronii Ord.' Fr, Minor. Observ. Hyberni etc Miscellanea Epigrammatuin Lib. Ill cui acces- sernnt Elogia aliquot illustrium Virorum. ColoniaB Agrippince 1657 in 12. Grande e I’afFetto cli io porto al Padre Baronio, uomo di innocenti costunii, e di gran letteratura, ed ancorclie quest’^ opera passa i sei fogli, I’lib registrato, per render grazzie, sic- come fo, a quel degnissimo Beligioso, degli onori, per sua mera bonta, compartitimi. Con che supplicandola dell ’onore de ’suoi stimatissimi comandamenti, e riverendola, mi confermo. Di VP. Bevma. Firenze li 5 Maggio 1696. AfFemo. Devmo. ed Obbmo. Servo ANTONIO MAGLIABECHI. [Endorsed.] Al Bevmo. Pre. Sigre. mio Pron. Colmo. il Pre, Cio Neylan Francescano Observante Ibernese, Sant’ Isidoro, Boma. CosiMO Terzo per Crazia di Dio Gran Duca di Toscana, etc. Le chiare prove cbe ha date al mondo della propria erudizione e dottrina il Padre F.” Buenaventura Baronio Ibernese del Sac. Ordine de’ Minori, per mezzo delle stampe, e delle scuole, nelli studi piu celebri d’ Europa, come ci fecero concepir di lui una stima non ordinaria cosi ci indussero ad annoverarlo tra gli uomini di lettere, compresi nella nostra Corte, in qualita di Teologo, e d’Istorico. Che perb adesso lo dichiariamo tale, concedendogli tutti gli onori, preeminenze, e privilegi, che godono gli altri di simil carattere, ascritti al nostro attual servizio, ed ordiniamo in vigor della presente a tutti i nostri Ministri Dffiziali, e servitori di riconoscerlo, e stimarlo secondo richiede la sua religiosa condizione, ed il grade sudetto da Noi conferitogli di nostro Teologo, et Istorico. IRISH FRANCISCAJf MONASTERIES. 293 Per 1 effetto di che il Marcliese Incontri nostro Majordomo dovra metterlo a Ruolo, e far che gli sia resa in ogni occasione la convemente onoranza, e rispetto, tale essendo la nostra volonta. in tede della quale sara questa firmata di nostra mano, impressa col nostro sigillo, e contrassegnata dall’ infrascritto nostro segretario di stato, e delF afiari della nostra Casa. Dat. in Firenze, li 15 Sebtembre, 1676. II Gran Duca di Toscana. C.+S. [On cover.] Del P. Baronio FIlANCE>SCO PANCIABICHI. Messo al Buolo a C—63. [Catalogued] Patentes quibus P. Baro fit Theologus et Historicus Magni Duels Hetliruriae. Of his minor prose works, The Siege of Duncannon ” is entitled to a place in these pages ; and we will merely premise that he dedicated his Latin translation to his friend, sir Patrick O’Moledy, Spanish ambassador at the court of Charles II of England, 1666.* SIEGE OF DDNCANNOH. Eleven ruiles south-east of the city of Waterford, near where the Siiir, Nore, and Barrow fall into the sea, stands the tort ot Duncannon, on a site so elevated that it commands all ships approaching either Waterford or Boss. Hence, when the Spaniaids threatened a descent on our shores in 1588, it was thought worth while to strengthen the fortifications’ of the place. From the fort a narrow neck of land runs out into the sea, and on it there is a tall slender tower or lighthouse, said to have been erected by merchants of Boss in the days of’their commercial prosperity. The fort itself covers about three acres, and on the face looking seawards is defended by three batteries, while on that opposite the land it is protected by a deep dry ditch; behind this there was a massive and precipi- * Father Baron was sent by his uncle Luke Wadding to aid the em- harkation of the Irish soldiers who, in 1642, sailed with general Thomas Preston from Rochelle to Ireland. The diary of the siege in English was sent to_ him by his brother Geolfrey, who served under the commander of the Leinster army of the Confederate Catholics, and was a distinguished member of their House of Commons. 294 APPENDIX TO THE tons rampart liollowed out of the living rock, and on it were two watch towers. There were also two sally-ports, and be¬ tween them a drawbridge which could be raised or lowered as occasion required. Behind the latter the English constructed another rampart, parallel to the first; and close to the citadel of the fort they raised a third, faced with earth, and amply furnished with all appliances for maintaining a vigorous defence. In fact, the fort was j^rovided with every requirement, for the English had resolved to hold it to the last when they discovered that we were bent on taking it; and indeed it was well worth taking, for its site, as we have said, was commanding, its struc¬ ture solid, and whosoever was master of it must also be master of the neighbouring seaports and the entire circumjacent country. “ As soon therefore as the supreme council of the Confe¬ derates had made every preparation for the siege, and appointed two of their own body. Calf rid Baron and Nicholas Plunkett, to act as commissioners during the operations, they ordered general Thomas Preston to proceed with the forces destined for the enterprise. He therefore marched from Waterford, after the feast of the Epiphany, at the head of twelve hundred in¬ fantry, some of which were draughted from the regiment of Bichard Butler, lord Mountgarrett, and others from that of the Wexford regiment commanded by colonel Sinnott. A troop of horse numbering eighty, belonging to Bobert Talbot’s calvalry, accompanied this little army, which appearing before Dun- cannon on Monday, January 20th, lost no time in pitching tents within musket shot of the fort, where the cavity of the valley afforded shelter against the wind and severity of winter. Early in the morning the general ordered the soldiers to prepare for work, and he also sent a detachment to take possession of the windmill (then in ruins,) which, as it stood on an eleva¬ tion, commanded an extensive view of the low grounds. “Next morning (Jan. 21) the English opened fire on our men, and made a sortie with a view to reconnoitre our strength, but they were soon driven back over the narrow intervening space by our engineers, who with their spades repulsed them gallantly. During the remainder of the forenoon the enemy kept up a brisk fire from the ramparts, till, seeing that they were only wasting powder, they deemed it wiser to desist. Next morning, they renewed their fire immediately after sun¬ rise, and then hoisted their vari-coloured ensigns—a very pompous display, indeed; but, warned by their j^revious defeat, they did not venture to interrupt us any further. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 295 “ Towards nightfall the general ordered our engineers to erect a battery near the mouth of the harbour, from which he could cannonade the enemy’s ships; for the latter lay so near the land that they could easily pitch their balls and bombs amongst us. Our engineers, therefore, commenced throwing up works to protect us against all such mishaps ; while another detachment of the same arm carried on the approaches most industriously, the darkness of the night aiding them beyond our , expectations. Next morning (Jan. 23) the enemy’s ships fired on us, in order to demolish all the works we had thrown up during the preceding night; but their balls fell so wide of the mark that most of them passed over the camp. As soon as the English perceived this they got together sixty men, and made a sortie from the sally-ports on our lines, but were repulsed, and had to run for their lives. During the whole of the follow¬ ing night our engineers toiled indefatigably to complete the ship battery ; and indeed, considering the difficulties with which they had to contend, nothing could exceed their earnestness and alacrity. “ Next morning (Jan. 24) that battery directed its fire on the enemy’s ships, and with such effect that captain Bell (the commander of the squadron) was compelled to cut his cables, and make for the open sea, without raising his anchor ; three other ships, also under his command, were obliged to adopt the same course, losing their anchors, and affording our men a most agreeable spectacle ; for at that moment a light breeze springing up and the tide rising, prevented the vessels from getting off, and exposed them to our musketeers, whose steady and well-directed fire seriously damaged the yards, tackle, and hull of the commander’s ship, so much so that the very beauti¬ ful ensign of the parliament was literally shot away. During this action two young sailors went aloft to hoist the Irish Harp, but they were compelled to retrace their steps, and were actually precipitated from the shrouds to the deck. At length, captain Bell, availing himself of a favourable wind, got beyond our reach, and cast anchor m safe moorings. Meanwhile a detachment from the fort itself attacked our men in the trenches, but they were beaten off instantly. ^'Two days afterwards, Sunday (Jan. 20), the enemy’s flag¬ ship, so terribly crippled in the late action, unable to weather the rough sea, went down with all on board. ‘‘ On the following day (Jan. 27) our engineers had worked with such good will and emulation at the approaches that all access to the fort on the land side was blocked up ; so much so 296 APPENDIX TO THE that the besieged could not receive supplies of food or water. “On Tuesday (Jan. 28) three of the ships already mentioned sailed with the early tide for Milford, to announce how roughly they had been handled by our people. This we learned from a Frenchman, who escajied in a boat from the flag-ship, and was picked up close to our battery. He told general Preston that our fire had done incredible damage to said ship, and that ten of its men had been killed, and many others wounded by the falling of the spars, and the balls of our gunners and muske¬ teers. “ Next morning there was continuous firing on both sides, the English thundering from the fort, and we from our works, where one of our guns was struck on its carriage by an iron stake over four feet long. “We were now in the beginning of February, a month of incessant rains, which jwoved a great obstacle to the progress of our field-works. On Saturday (Feb. 1) towards nightfall, the besieged made a sortie on our nearest approach, but were repulsed, after losing five men killed, and we two. “ The remainder of the week was spent in carrying on the works, notwithstanding the intensity of the cold, and the strong winds that marred our progress. In the meanwhile general Preston had recourse to an admirable stratagem. He ordered four of his men to proceed at nightfall to the gate of the fort with a large heavy chest, pretending that they were deserters, and begging to be let in, our men firing blank cart¬ ridge after them. Being refused admittance, they laid down their burden, and then hastened back to our lines. “ Next morning (Feb. 10) a considerable number of the enemy, seeing the chest, came out to seize it, and indeed they had reason to rue their rashness ; for, after carrying the heavy load into the fort, they proceeded to break it open, and thus in their hot haste caused it to explode—for Laloe, the chief of our engineers, had filled it with powder and grenades. Many of the enemy were blown to atoms in an instant, and the chest itself was reduced to a heap of charcoal and ashes. “ Towards midday the enemy sallied out to attack our camp, but they were driven back with loss by our people, who watched all their motions incessantly. “ Early on the following morning we opened a heavy fire on the works of the fort, which so shook the walls, that our general thought it time to send a drummer to the governor, lord Esmonde, demanding the surrender of the place. Esmonde, IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 297 liowever, not only indignantly refused the proposal, but, con¬ trary to all military usage, caused his men to fire on the drummer. “ During the following three days a continuous fire was kept up on both sides, and, to heighten the enemy’s con¬ sternation, a storm arose which swept the thatch off many of their huts. Astonished at this, they were hardly able to reply to our guns ; and their case was rendered still more desperate by one of our bombs, which fell on some inflam¬ mable matter, and set fire to three or four of their houses, the thatch of which they were obliged to tear ofi* and fling into the sea. “ The enemy’s guns, though loaded with light shot, pre¬ vented our engineers from completing the approaches, the more so as the stony nature of the soil retarded the zealous 'ofibrts of our men in the trenches. As for the besieged, they were in high spirits, deeming themselves safe in the fort, and calculating on supplies from England, although they must have known that our batteries were ready to open on their transports. “ On Wednesday (Feb. 19) five ships hove in sight, and cast anchor at Creden Head. This, indeed, was a most welcome spectacle to the besieged, but the vessels durst not approach the fort lest they might be sunk by the fire of our guns. “ Seeing this, Preston ordered some boats to be manned for the purpose of boarding the said ships ; but the dense darkness of the night frustrated the gallant generals design. The enemy, nevertheless, with the aid of torches and other lights, contrived to throw a quantity of provisions into the fort—that is to say, thirty or forty barrels of salted meat, a large supply of English and Dutch cheese, together with some tobacco, etc., etc. This grieved our men overmuch ; for if they had had a sufficient number of boats they never would have allowed the said supplies to be thrown into the place. Nevertheless, heaven was pleased to turn this circumstance to our advantage. Two days afterwards the enemy made another attempt to beat our men out of the approaches, but they failed to do so, and we concluded that their courage was not increased by the recently received supplies. “ On the 26th they made another and more serious attack on us, but met a resistance for which they were not prepared ; for after a hand-to-hand fight they were repulsed, the loss on either side being equal. Towards sunset we made an attempt 298 APPENDIX TO THE on their enter wall, and drove a strong body of their men into their sally-ports. In this affray they lost a considerable num¬ ber of men and a goodly quantity of arms. “ On the 1st of March Preston despatched a second drummer with a letter to Esmonde, demanding the surrender of the fort for the king’s use and service. The general in said letter in¬ formed Esmonde that if he did not yield on the favourable terms which were offered him, he (Preston) would be obliged to proceed to extremities. To this Esmonde replied that ^ he deemed it unworthy of him to treiit with such a man ; that he held the fort for the king’s majesty, and the maintenance of the Protestant religion ; and that the king had already pro¬ claimed Preston and all his abbettors rebels. My honour and my conscience,’ wrote Esmonde, ‘ revolt at the idea of surren¬ der, and I would fain learn what letters you can produce to show that you have been authorized to demand possession of the place, which I am resolved to hold to the last.’ On the following Tuesday there was a fierce storm, which did serious damage to the ships, but towards evening it grew calm, and the vessels were enabled to take up safe moorings. “ March 13, the enemy came out from the sally-ports, intent on beating down our gabions, but our men repulsed them valiantly. Next day Esmonde despatched a drummer vdth a letter to our general, stating that ‘ he wondered much at his conduct, the more so, as he (Preston) professed loyalty to the king. Take heed,’ ran the letter, ^ lest you incur the guilt of high treason ; but if you can show any instrument annulling the patents by which I hold the fort, let me see it, and I will surrender the place without further delay.’ To this Preston returned answer, ‘ that although the king’s Irish Catholic sub¬ jects had agreed to a cessation of hostilities with lord Ormonde, his majesty’s lieutenant, they had no notion of making terms v/ith the parliamentary forces then in possession of Duncannon.’ He fuidher reminded him (Esmonde) that, not satisfied with dis¬ missing major Capron and others who were loyal to the crown, he had also received supplies from the rebel parliament, and concluded by telling him that, ^ by surrendering the place he might clear his name of the stain of disloyalty, and that if he would not do so, he (Preston) had ample means to compel him.’ “ Saturday and Sunday (March 15, 16) were spent by us in completing the trenches, which gave us command of the enemy’s ramparts, and also in laying a mine right under the northern sally-port, which being fired on the following morning, caused a wide breach in the wall. Seeing this, our men rushed out of lEISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 299 the trench and engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict with the enemj, who fought very valiantly, many falling on both sides. Laloe, the chief of our engineers, however, plied the besieged so vigorously with balls and bombs, that 'their granaries and thatched huts were set on fire and burned down, notwithstanding the efforts which were made to save them. This fight was maintained by besiegers and besieged for three hours, till our general, seeing his men overpowered by the shower of stone halls which the guns of the fort discharged, caused the retreat to be sounded, after we had lost ten gallant fellows in that fierce conflict. Preston now pushed his brass and iron guns to the very brink of the ditch, and battered down the tower v/hich lay nearest to the inner gate of the fort. This occurred on St. Patrick’s day, and no sooner was the tower demolished than Preston commanded a detachment of one hundred and forty choice men to dash into the ditch with scaling ladders and hurdles covered with hides. Some of them were shot down as they hastened onwards, but there were not wanting stout fellows to take their places, and mount into the tower which the enemy had deserted. After maintaining themselves in that perilous position for upwards of an hour, they were obliged to make the best of their way out of it, driven back by a shower of ball and iron stakes, which cost us the loss of fourteen killed, and twenty- five dangerously wounded. The very women and children in the fort took part in this bloody contest. As for the enemy, they too lost a considerable number of their men, and among others a captain Pussell, the deputy-governor of the fort, who succeeded captain Larken, killed five days before. As for Esmonde, he was then in very weak health, and very deaf. ‘‘Next day Preston demanded a suspension of hostilies, in order that both parties might bury their dead. The enemy consented to this, provided our general would allow the corpses to be carried out of the fort. He, however, would not listen to such terms, as all the ground outside the place was now in his power; but on reconsidering the matter, the enemy adopted his view, and the remainder of the day was passed in peace. “ Meanwhile the enemy, seeing their garrison diminishing* <^^yj knowing that they had no chance of getting- further supplies of provision, began to lose heart; so much so, that they soon afterwards demanded a parley, which being granted, Esmonde despatched a drummer with a letter to Preston, requiring him to name those whom he would give as hostages till the articles of surrender were perfected—he (Esmonde) proposing to give a like number. Our general instantly ,300 APPENDIX TO THE named father Oliver Darcy,* prior of the Dominican convent of Kilkenny, and Captain Dungan. Esmonde sent as his securities his nephew Kichard, and the deputy-governor of another fort. On the next night both parties subscribed the following articles : “ That Esmonde should, on the 19th of March, surrender to general Preston the fort of D uncannon for the king’s service. Secondly, that the garrison would be allowed to march out with baggage, and colours unfolded. That each of the common soldiers should be allowed to retain the third part of a lance, and the officers all the insignia of their rank. Fourthly, that all of them should be provided with a safe conduct to proceed to Dublin or Youghal. Finally, that Preston should hold Dun- cannon against all enemies of the king’s majesty. Of the garrison forty expressed a wish to be conducted to Youghal, one hundred and twenty to Dublin, and the remainder to Wex¬ ford, whence they were shipped to England. In the interval Esmonde remained in the fort awaiting a carriage to take him to Dublin, and on its arrival he set out, but had not proceeded far on his journey when he died, and was buried near his manor of Limerick, county Wexford. On the day agreed upon Preston took possession of the fort, where we found great store of arms, twenty-two battering guns, and some of brass, one of which was so heavy that the English could not move it to the embrasure, from which it might have galled us severely. Of powder there was not much, but there was abundance of corn, cheese, and tobacco. We found little or no wine, for as the besiegers could not cook their meat in sea water, they used the wine for that purpose. ‘^During the siege we lost one very brave officer, who dis¬ tinguished himself on various occasions, one lieutenant-colonel, three captains, and twenty-six common soldiers. We expended during the 02 :>erations 176 iron balls, 19,000 pounds of powder, and 162 stone balls. The enemy’s loss, as they themselves .admitted, was very great. “This memorable siege, commenced on the 20th of January, terminated gloriously for us oil the 19th of March, 1645, owing to the valour and skill of general Thomas Preston, who learned the art of war in Flanders—that far-famed academy of Mars.”t * Afterwards made bishop of Dromore at the instance of Rinuccini. t A very beautiful plan of the siege was engraved at Kilkenny, by Gasper Hubert, chief of the engineers, who came with Preston from the Low Countries. This diagram represents the fort as it was during the ojierations—with its three towers facing the land, the trenches, the IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 301 MONASTERY OF THE TRINITARIANS, AD ARE. Although it does not come within our scope to speak of the Trinitarian convent hard by that of the Franciscans in Adare, the subjoined details regarding the former establishment will be read with interest, because they determine the precise date of its foundation, and tell by whom the order was brought into Ireland. For these particulars we are indebted to father Bona- venture Baron’s rare work, “ Annales ordinis SSse. Trinitatis pro redemptione Captivorum.” In the year 1230,” writes the learned Franciscan, “ during the pontificate of Gregory IX., the order of Trinitarians was introduced into Ireland, by the agency of certain Scots fathers, chief of whom was John Comyns, minister of Dunbar. The splendid monastery of Adare was erected by the earls of Kil¬ dare, who endowed it with ample revenue. The fathers of that house devoted themselves to the object of their institute—- the redemption of captives—so earnest^, that some were found, who not only sold their lands, but their silver plate, nay, and their chalices, to supply the necessary funds. The nobles of country, and the people, gave the Trinitarians considerable sums of money. At the time of the first redemption, for which six of the principal magnates of Ireland made large advances, the earl of Desmond (of whose family I come) con¬ tributed the entire of his table service, great part of which was solid gold, and the remainder silver gilt. The countess gave her rich gold bracelets, and her earrings, set with stones of priceless value, nay, all her ornaments, for the same pious purpose.” A brief account of the origin of this order will not be out of place here. In 1198 Felix De Valois, and John De Matha, waited on Innocent III., and submitted to him their j^roject for ransoming captives from the Saracens, who at that period made frequent raids on the shores of the Mediterranean, and carried off mul¬ titudes of prisoners to Tunis and Algiers. After hearing the apostles of this merciful undertaking. Innocent commanded them to assist at his mass, on the 28th of January, when he celebrated before his entire court, and in presence of his cardi¬ nals. At the words “ elevatis oculis,” his holiness looked quarters of Butler, Synnott, Warren, and other officers who acted under Preston, of whom it gives a very finely-engraved medallion likeness, with the following legend :—“ Illustrissimo nobilissimoque Domino D. Thomae Preston, Lageniensis exercitus in Hibernia generali, arcis Duncannon ex- pugnatori gubernatorique.” 302 APPENDIX TO THE upwards, and saw an angel, in an atmosphere of celestial light, wearing a scapnlaiy with the image of a cross, partly red, and liartl}^- blue, and holding in the right hand the chain of a Christian prisoner, and in his left that of a captive Moor, On concluding the august sacrifice, his holiness declared to all present -v^hat he had seen, and affirmed that the Lord had raised up Lelix and John for the redemption of captives from the bondage of cruel infidels. He then caused them both to lie clothed with scapularies, and white habits—exactly like the angel’s—whereon was a cross, resembling that worn by the heavenly apparition. Addressing John and Lelix, the pope said : “ One half the cross you Avear is of the colour of blood, to teach you that you must be prepared to lay down your life for the ransom of your fellowman. The colour of the other is blue, to remind you that it is in heaven you are to find recom¬ pense for your toils, and sufierings ; and the habit and scapii- lary are white, to teach you that devotedness and self-denial like yours, can spring only from hearts pure and simple.” Such was the inception of this merciful order, Avhich, forty years after its institution, counted six hundred convents in France, Italy, Spain, and elsewhere. Father Baron, quoting the Book of Adare, states that the Irish Trinitarians ransomed 6,300 captives, and that forty of that devoted fraternity Avon the Martyr’s palm, “ Arthur O’Neill,” says our authority, “twice provincial of his order in Ireland, after founding some convents in Scotland, Avent with tAvo companions to Egypt, where they died martyrs, in the year 1282. One Gerald Hubert met the same happy death in Palestine, in 1291. The Book of Adare commemorates Gregory, Cormac, John, Bedmond, Thaddeus O’Higgin, and other tAventy- seven martyrs, all of the convent of Adare, Avho laid doAvn their lives in distant lands for the redemption of their fellowman.” Father Baron gives us the folloAving account of the evils that beleaguered him in his old age :— Senio pronus, laboribus fractus, jam enim caligant oculi, aures obturantur, dentes molire renuunt, crura fatiscunt. Fas sit abstergere calamum tot voluminibus tritum,” [“ Prostrated by years, broken doAvn by toil, mine eyes fail, my ears are dulled, my teeth refuse to masticate, my nether limbs have lost their strength. It is therefore time to lay aside the pen worn out after so many volumes.”] This brings to one’s mind the truthfulness of Dr. Webb’s exquisite poem— “ The mortal a\Fo yearns for the years Which lengthen the shadows of life.” IRISH FRANCISCAlSr MONASTERIES. 303 Appendix T—p. 87. Fra Tomaso de Celano, author of “ Dies Irse,” was one of those illustrious literati whom St. Francis received into his order in the little church of Portiuncula about the year 1213. In the year 1221, he was appointed by St. Francis to found the Province of Germany. In 1223 he returned to Italy, and was witness of the remarkable deeds of St. Francis during the last years of his life. By order of pope Gregory the Mnth, he wrote the life of his holy father, the first life written of the saint. He begins the work thus :—Decus et vitam beatissimi patris nostri Francisci pia devotione, veritate semper magistra, seriatim cupiens enarrare. . . . jubente domino et glorioso Papa Gregorio, prout potui, verbis licet imperitis studui expli- care. Sed utinam ejus essem discipulus qiii semper locutionum vitavit lenigmata, &c., &c.” Fra Tomaso is also the writer of three Sequentke —one for the Mass of St. Francis, beginning Sanctitatis nova signa; one beginning Fregit victor virtualis F and the famous Dies irce, dies illaF The latter hymn has been ascribed to other writers, but the weight of MS. authorities is entirely in favour of Celano. Bartholomeus Pisanus, the oldest writer who men¬ tions the “ Dies irce,’’ unhesitatingly attributes it to Fra Tomaso. This remarkable hymn has been translated into several of the modern languages. The first Italian translation was made by the great Florentine poet, Girolamo Benivieni.* Jacopone de Todi, a barrister of noble family, took the habit of St. Francis ten years after the sudden death of his wife, which happened in 1268. She was crushed to death by the fall of a platform from which she was witnessing a public spectacle in the piazza of the little town where her husband was born. The catastrophe smote him like a thunderbolt; and he thenceforth devoted himself to works of penitential austerities, till he closed his chequered career in the convent of Collazone, at midnight of the Christmas of 1306, at the moment when the priest commenced the Gloria in Excelsis. Jacopone has left us a great number of spiritual poems ; but that which must perpetuate his fame till the end of time is, the “Stabat,” * We may add that the late learned father Tosti of Monte Cassino, in his splendid “ Storia di Bonifazio VIII.” (v. i. p. 55), quoting Cardella, “ Stor. de Card,” t. 2, c. ii., observes that some attributed that most prophetic and solemn poem to cardinal Latino Malabranca, who figures so conspicuously in the biography of Boniface VIII. 304 APPENDIX TO THE V wliicli is best described by Ozanam in his “Poetes Francis- cains.” “Catholic literature,” says the distinguished and devout writer “has nothing more pathetic than this sad wail, whose monotonous strophes fall like tears, so sweet that one sees in it a sorrow all divine consoled by angels ; in a word, so simple in its popular Latin, that women and children comprehend one half of it by the words, and the other half by the air and by the heart.” T]ie best translation of the “ Stabat” appeared in the “Messenger of the Sacred Heart,” March, 1870, from the pen of D. F. MacCarthy, Esq. Another of Jacopone’s Poems,, which Ozanam styles the “ Stabat of the Cradle ” id>e la creche), and is not so well known as the “ Stabat of Calvary,” will not be out of place in this brief notice of its author :— Stabat Mater speciosa, Juxta foenum gaudiosa, Dum jacebat parvulus, Cujus animam gaudentem, Lsetabundam et ferventem, Pertransivit jubilus. O quam Iseta et beata Fuit ilia immaculata Mater unigeniti! Qu 80 gaiidebat, et ridebat, Exsultabat, cum videbat Nati partum inclyti. Quis est qui non gauderet, {sic) Christi Matrem si videret In tanto solatio ? Quis non posset collaetari Christi Matrem contemplari Ludentem cum Filio ? Pro peccatis sum gentis, Christum vidit cum jumentis, Et algori subditum. Vidit sum dulcem natum Vagientem, adoratum Vili diversorio. Nato Christo in praesepe, Cceh cives canunt Isete Cum immenso gaudio. Stabat senex cum puella. Non cum verbo nec loquela, Stupescentes cordibus. Eia Mater, tons amoris, Me sentire vim ardoris, Eac ut tecum sentiam! Eac nt ardeat cor meum In amando Christum Deum, Ft sibi complaceam. Sancta Mater, istud agas: Prone {sic) introducas Plagas Cordi fixas valide. Tui Nati coelo lapsi, Jam dignati foeno nasci Poenas mecum divide. Eac me vere congaudere, Jesulino cohaerere, Donee ego vixero. In me sistat ardor tui, Puerino fac me frui, Dum stim in exilio. Hunc ardorem fac communem, Ne facias me immunem Ab hoc desiderio. Virgo Virginum prseclara, Mihi jam non sis amara: Eac me parvum nipere. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 305 Fac ut portem pulchrum fantem, Qui nascendo vicit mortem, Volens vitam tradere. Fac me tecum satiari, Nato tuo inebriari, Stans inter tripudia. Inflammatus et accensus, Obstupescit omnis sensus Tali de commercio. {sic) Fac me nato custodiri, Verbo Dei prsemuniri, Conservari gratia. Quando corpus morietur. Fac ut animae donetur Tui biati visio. Haying devoted so much space to notices of the learned Franciscan of Clonmel, the writer invites attention to a docu¬ ment of paramount importance with which the name of Geoffrey Barron is associated. He is already known to the reader as a conspicuous member of the Lower House of the Confederate Catholics, who employed him on momentous missions to the courts of France and Belgium at the formation of their body and in those days when the struggle between Charles I. and the parliament had attained its crisis. The nunzio seems to have legalded him as one of his most energetic supporters, and, we may believe that his close relationship to duke Cosimo^s future historiographer was quite sufficient to secure for him the patron¬ age and warm friendshij^ of the former. This most valuable document will be duly appreciated by the reader if he bear in mind that it is one of the very few records of the Supreme Council which escaped destruction when Kil¬ kenny surrendered to Cromwell, and when we may presume the officials of the Confederates made away with many of 'their proceedings which would, doubtless, have been used as evidences against them by the government of the usurper. Then, again, we are to remember that a vast amount of the Confederate^records were destroyed in the great fire of 1711, when the Dublin treasury was burnt to the ground. To the historian, genealogist, and topographer, the '' Book of Accounts,” will prove of infinite value, the names of persons and places, most of them occurring frequently in this volume being so distinctly associated with it, and the status or office of each individual so specifically indicated. It is almost super¬ fluous to add that most of those named in the Accounts were members of the principal families of the period, and subse¬ quently became involved in all the disasters of the Cromwellian confiscations and the unjust and ungrateful provisions of the Acts of Settlement and Explanation. X 306 APPENDIX TO THE The “ Book of Accounts,” whicli a lucky accident placed in the editor’s possession, is copied from the original in the Public Becord Office, London,*—It is bound in a yellow parchment cover, soiled, and torn on one side. There are two commence¬ ments, the second (entitled here Part II.,) begins at the torn side of the volume. Both are imperfect. The Accounts so far as they extend are the public accounts of the Supreme Council of the Confederate Catholics, and with certain of their receivers and agents are audited, (in Part I.) by Geoffrey Barron and John Birmingham, commissioners of the revenue on behalf of the Confederate government. These Accounts concern the period only from January, 1644, to July 1646, as the last entry in Part II. concerns the charge for proclaiming the Peace at Kilkenny, which was done on 29th Jidy, 1646. It was just at this period that “the Cessa¬ tion” or Truce had been made between the king and Confe¬ derate Catholics, and part of the terms were, that the Con¬ federates should supply shipping and means to transport 3,000 of the marquis of Antrim’s men into Scotland to the aid of the marquis of Montrose, in order to relieve the king’s losses there, and hinder the new invasion projected from that quarter in aid of the parliament. Accordingly there will be found charges for this service in the two first accounts of the series, being those of Patrick Archer, merchant, of Kilkenny, who debits himself in his first account with .£26 received from the lord bishop of Cork and Clo 3 me as part of his applotment for this service. This Account is signed by Patrick Archer, but the allowance in passing it by the auditors is wanting. The second Account of the same Patrick Archer is wholly concerned about the charges of transporting the marquis of Antrim’s troops to Scotland, and is duly passed and signed by the auditors. The third is that of Mr. Luke White, mayor of Waterford. The fourth is that of Barnaby White, acting for the commis¬ sioners of the army in the county of Carlow for six weeks means (or pay) of the army, being the proportion of that county. The sixth is James Byime’s account of his receipts and of the fouidh parts of the Catholics’ and enemies’ freehold estates in the county of Carlow, which he discharges by payments to the army and others. Amongst these payments is one to the judges of assize of the Confederate Catholics. * See “ State Papers, Ireland,”—Undated Petitions, No. 289. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 307 The seventh is that of the executors of Henry Archer treasin^er (or other high official in that line) for the province of Leinster and Munster. Amongst other sums are the large ones, £933, £886, £2433, £1333, sent to Dublin or paid direct to sir Adam Loftus, being probably part of the sum the Confederates undertook to pay to the king at the signing of the Cessation. To these seven Accounts then audited by the commissioners of the revenue of the Confederate Catholics, succeed what may be called “ Military Establishments ” for the province of Leinster, (7 e.) the pay and number of officers and soldiei-s charged on that province, with the “divident” ^. e. ‘‘division” or rateable charge on each county. This applotment is signed by the council of the Confederate Catholics. After %his “ Establishment ” will be found the fees to be levied at the custom-house of New Ross, and all other ports within the quarters of the Confederate Catholics, also signed by the council of the same. This part contains directions by the commissioners of the revenue of the Confederate Catholics for charging public servants Avith sums or goods advanced on public account, for recovering over payments, charging for rents and tithes with¬ held, as also for fines imposed at the assizes of the county of Carlow, and not collected or returned to the Confederate ex¬ chequer. The last item fixes the date as about July, 1646, as it is a charge for proclaiming the Peace, signed and proclaimed on July 29th, 1646. A BooTte of Accoiiiptes and Becevpts Beginninge the 23rd of January, 16JfS, ffor Mr. Geoffry Barron. The Right Honble. the Supreame Counsell of the Confederate Catholiques of Ireland are Debitors, in the behalfe of the publique to mee Patrick Archer. ■■ £ s. d. June 24 To £400 Inhanced payed Mr. Peter Roche for the use of the Rt. Honble. the earle of Castlehaven by order from the Supreame Councell dat. 20 Junij. 400 0 0 June 28 „ £17 Inhanced payed Mr. Richard Bealing by order as above . . 17 0 0 308 APPENDIX TO THE June 30 To X80 Inhanced payed Mr. Plunkett & Mr. Browne by order as above „ 30 „ <£53 6s. Sd. Inlianced payed Mr. Browne by order as above . „ 30 ,, £177 7s. Inlianced payed to John Stanley by order from the Supreame Councill dat 6 Jidy „ 30 ,, £26 13s. 4(7. Inlianced pd. John Stanley by order as above dat 30 June .... ,, By £709 19s. Sd. to close this accompt for which the said accomptant is to bee Credited uppon his next accompte £ ,s. d. 80 0 0 53 6 8 177 7 0 26 13 4 709 10 8 Suma total 1464 6 8 The above Accompt was audited and allowed as above on 12 of Jany. in A. I). 1644 by us. PATRICK ARCHER. The Right Honble. the Supreame Councell of the Confederate Catholiques of Ireland are Creditors in the behalfe of the publique to Patrick Archer. June 27 By £359 10s. ster. Rec. of Gerrald £ s. d. fitz Morrish Esq. for the County of Kerry by direction from the Su¬ preame Councell of the moneys ap- plotted for his Ma’tie’s. supply making Inlianced £479 6s. Sd. July 27 „ £260 ster. Rec. of Mr. John Gould rent for the County of Corke by direction as above . £266 5s. ster. Reed, of Capt. Teigue O’Bryen by direction as above making Inhanced £335. £120 ster. Rec. of Phillipp Barriose & Mr. John Gould for the County of Corke by direction as above making Inhanced £160 £50 ster. Rec. of Piers fizt Gerrald for the Queene’s County by dii’ection as above, making inhanced £66 13s. 4A . . . . 66 13 4 >5 5? 479 6 8 346 13 4 335 0 0 160 0 0 5? IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 309 July 27 To c£20 ster. Rec. of Edmond Power in £ s. d. the behalfe of my Lo. Bpp. of Corke & Clone being in pte. payment of his pte. of the applottment for the expe- dicon of the service intended for the isles of Scotland making inhanced £26 I3s. 4:d. . . . 26 13 4 ,, ,, £50 Inhanced Pec. of Mr. John Roch by verball order from the Siipreame Councell . . 50 0 0 £1464 6 8 The above accompte was audited and allowed as above on 12 Jany. A.D. 1644 by us PATRICK ARCHER. May it 'please yor. Lorps., ffehr. 1644.— Uppon vewe and auditt of the accompt of Patrick Archer of Kilkenny, merchant, for, and concerning the freighteing and agreeing wth. the shipping for transporting the men for Scot¬ land wee conceave it reasonable to allowe the said Patr. for the pticulars. of the sd. accompt as herein is expressed and doe thereby certify for the sd. Patricke’s receiptes and charge as here is sett downe, though wee have noe other way for charginge the said Patrick then his owne acknowledgmt. reserving here¬ after to the publique Power to charge the sd. Patr. at all tymes wth. any other some or somes of money or other charges wherewth. hee shall appeere hereafter to have beene of Right charged wth. and for wch. hee ought to bee accomptable to the publique. ffirst allowed the sd. Patrick for freinh- O teing of the Christopher of Surdame ffor ffreighteing of the Angell Gabrieli ffor ffreighteing of the Jacob of Ross . ffor casks and other charges by him ex¬ pended aboute the setting forward of the sd. Shipps ffor his 4th pte. of the sd. Jacob lost in that voiadge, we conceaue noe reason the publique be charged wth. any pte. of ytt the Councell not having under¬ taken insurance thereof, and there¬ fore allow the sd. Patrick nothing for the same. .... St dt 644 2 5 710 4 0 710 4 0 11 8 6 nihil 310 APPENDIX TO THE ffor Ms cliarges, and tyme spent as liee alledges for the space of six weekes aboute the freightinge of the sd. shipps notwthstanding we conceaue hee is jite. owner of the Jacob, and could not but bee at expence of tyme and money about the sd, Shipps yete wee have in respect the Conncell have employed him about the freighting and setting forth of the said Shipping thought fitt to allow him, in wch. some is included what hee challenges for hamling ffor the use of his moneyes sithence he paid out of the same to this day Suma total Whereof the sd. Patrick rec. as by the Accopt. given in by him after supply monny & other monnyes of the pub- lique came into his hands on and above the Disbursements allowed him uppon that Accompte . The sd. Patricke beyond what hee charges himselfe wth. all Pec. of the Maior of Waterford inwards the freightinge of the sd. Shipps Snma total of his receipts amounts to Which deducted of the above some there remaynes due to sd. Patrick wch. for the sd. Patricke hath beene alwaise reddy & forward to engedge himselfe for the publique, & for that the publique hath divers ways reaped advantages by the sd. Patrick’s for- wardnes and engagemt. for them wee humbly offer ought to bee putt in a payable way wth all speed. £ s. d. 103 15 0 26 5 0 £2006 18 11 709 18 8 320 0 0 1029 18 8 1176 19 2 making in the moneey 802 13 4 IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 311 All wch. wee liumbly Certifie & submitt to yor. Lopps. further pleasure. Signed GEOFF. BAKEON. JOHN BIEMINGHAM. May it j^lease yor. Lopps. We have accompted wth Mr. Luke White now Maior of Waterford, & find it as followeth. We find due to the sd. Luke by bond dated the 18 Sept. 1642 the some of <£229 17s. Qd. ster. of the Councell, wch. reduced to Current money makes . . . . for the use thereof at the rate of £5 23er cent, allowed to him by the Councell’s order of 13 Jany. 1644 the use of such ^^ayments as have been made to him being deducted We likewise find due to the sd. Luke the sur 2 )lus for an over charge put upj)on him by mistake of the Custom of Donegarvan as a 2 ) 2 >eareth by the sd. Customes Booke of Customes now remayninge on record . £ s. d. 306 10 0 22 6 0 2 7 0 Suma totalis 321 4 0 Of wch. wee find by the Customer of the Porte of Waterford his accomj)te past the 24 Sejot. 1644 that he hath rec. by allowance of his Custome in the Porte afibrsaid the some of More rec. by the sd. Luke by allowance of the Customes in the aford. Porte as appears by the Customer of the sd. Poi*te his accomjpte part 9 Oct. 1644 the some of . More due of the sd. Luke by bond dated 18 March 1642 £77 4s. for Customes of Tobacco in the forte of Donegarvan at \^d. Ib. wch. by order of the Councell is reduced to 6(i. lb.—the some of 43 13 0 129 3 10 37 12 0 312 APPENDIX TO THE More due of the sd. Luke by bond £ s. d. date the 22nd. of July 1643 for Customes in the aforsaid Porte the some of . . . . ' — Pec. by the sd. Luke by allowance of his Customes in the forte of Done- garvan as appeareth by the Customs of the sd. Porte his accompt past the 12 Febr. 1644 the some of <£15 2s. 9c?. ster. Inhanced . . . 20 3 8 Memorand—That on the 29th January 1644 Barnaby ^ Birne in the behalfe of the Comrs. of the Army in the Co. of Catherlagh did accompt before the Comrs. of the publique Bevenue for the six wickes means due of the sd. Countie being <£347 16s. 9c?. ster. Avch. hee doth discharge as folio weth, viz:— Payed for the entertainment of : Sr. Bobt. Talbott Barronett’s Troope being 44 in No. at 6s. wicke le peece, and a lieutenant at 12s. wicke, a Corronett at 8s. wick a Qr. Mr. at Seave Shill. wick each of tow Corporalls at 7s. wicke le peece forfeiture four days beginninge the 27 of 9ber., & ending the 12 of this moneth wth. two pence ster. in¬ crease le peece to each horsman ^ diem by two orders & one acquittance the some of <£102 9s. Payd Serient Maior - Butler’s Troope being 42 in No. at 6s. le peece ^ wick, a Lieutt. at 12s. ^ wick, a Corronett at 8 s. wick, a Qr. Mr. at 7s. wicke, 2 Corporalls at 7s. le peece wick, a Trumpter at 7s. wicke for 33 daies beginninge 13th of lObr. & ending 21 of this instant by 2 orders & and acquittance the some of <£69 15s. ster. Payd into the Thrary. as appeth. by his discharge therein <£68 13s. 3c?. 102 9 0 69 15 0 68 13 3 The Total of his disbursemts amounts to . 240 16 3 IRISH FRANCISCAN' MONASTERIES. Well, compared with the above chardges rests due of the sd. County the some of One hundred & six pounds nyn- teene shill. & six pence Signed GEOFF. BARBON. JOHN BIRMINGHAM. 1645 Memd. that on the 7 June 1645 James Birne Esq. 7 June Receaved of the 4th ptes of the Catholiques free- houlds & enemys estates in the Com. of Catherlagh did this day accompt before the Comrs. of the Revenue for the publique dues of the sd. County as hee stands charged hereafter, vizt.— The sd. Accomptant is charged wth. the 4th parts of the Catholique ffree- houlds in the sd. County amountinge to £391 12s. 2d. ster. beingefortwo ffales endinaf Michaelmas & Easter 1645 .... The sd. Accomptant is likewise charged wth. the enemies and Newters Estates in the sd. County of Cather¬ lagh for Easter & Michas. gales 1645 The Total chardge. . 1033 19 6 The Accomptant doth discharge the aforsaid charge in Manner follow einge, vizt.— Payd for the intertaynemt. of Sarjent Maior Geo Butler’s Troope consist- inge of 42 horse besidyes officers from the 21 of ffeb. 1644 untill 9 of Aprill beinge 45 dales accordinge the order of quarters order dated the 26th of March 1645 the some of . 96 8 0 Payd for the Intertaynmet of Sr. Robt. Talbott’s Troope being 44 besides officers from the 28 of March to the 29th of Aprill following being 31 days according the order of quarter for the officers and 12d. ster. p. diem £ s. d. 314 12 2 719 7 4 313 £ s. d. 106 19 6 314 APPENDIX TO THE to the Troops p. order from the Gerall. and tre. from the Lo. Vis¬ count Netterville and Nicholas Plun¬ kett Esq. being a Comittee from ye Councell appointed dated 30 March 1645 and acquittance acknowledging the same the some of Payd to Capen. Bruton’s Company of foot for the intertaynmet of the sd. Capens officers and six soldiers, and Capen Powel’s Company being 30 besides officers from the last of March to the 29th of May, and to Capen Bruton’s officers and Company from the 21st of May to the 12th of June 1645 according the order of quarter for the Army p. two orders and three acquittances the some of Assigned to Walter Bagnell Esq. for the mayntenance of the Ward of Laughline after accompt the rent due of the towne of Laughlin the impro- priacon of Donelecking the impropri¬ ations of Ballant, Lorem, Clonegose, Killtinell, Kellistowne, Shrughboe,p. 2 orders of the Comrs. of the Be- venue sett for Payd for the intertaynmet of Sarjant Maior Theo. Butler’s Troope from the 21 of January to the 21 of fFebr. being 42 horse besides officers ac- cordmg the order of quarter and order from the Comrs. of the Bevenue and acquittce. acknowlg. same . Payd the Judges of Assizes p. order and acquittance Payd into the Threary as appears p. acquittance .... Payd Mr. Oliver Eustace of Ballynunry by order of abatemt. from the Court of Bevenue the some of Payd the Commrs. of the 4th pte. 18c?. p. pound allowed them by their Com¬ mission, the some of £ s. d. 79 10 0 124 14 9 63 13 8 7 15 7 60 0 0 8 12 0 80 13 9 IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 315 Delivered by the sd. accomptant accord¬ ing the tenure of bis Commission for bimselfe and the Collect, bd. p. pound the some of ... Payd the Comrs. of the Army for the first six wickes meanes leavyed by the sd. Comr. wch. by order of the As¬ sembly was to bee allowed out of the 4th pte. the some of The aforesd. some is allowed to the Receavor p. Returne of the Comrs. of the 4th pte. stg. Payd to the severall tents, of Enemys estates in the sd. County the applott- ment made by the Comrs. of the sd. County on the Enemys estates in the sd. County for the last six wickes meanes for wch. allowances was given them out of theire rent p. order dated the 17th of lOber. 1645 and foure acquittances amountinge in all to . . , . . The Totall of his disbursemts. for wch. he hath allowance amounts to Wch. compared wth. the above charges rests due of the sd. accomptant upon his sd. accompt the some of . £ s. d. 22 8 8 184 15 0 170 10 0 1071 9 10 4 8 8 Signed, GEOFF. BARRON. WILLIAM HORE. Memorand—that Patr. & Walter Archer did accompt before the Comrs. of the Revenue of the last of December 1644 in the behalfe of Henry Archer Esq. deceased for such moneys as hee receaved be¬ longing to the publique vizt. Receaved of the Lo. Bpp. of Downe in the behalfe of the Province of Ulster Rec. of Richard Barnewall in the be¬ half of the Com. of Meath in the Province of Leinster Rec. of Coilonell Piers fizt Gerrald in the behalfe of the Com. of Kildare . <£ s. d. 133 6 8 66 13 4 10 0 0 APPENDIX TO THE .316 Reed, from Doctor Gerrald ffennell in • the belialfe of the Province of Monn- ster . . . ' . Rec. out of the County of Kilkenny . Rec. out of the Cittie of Waterford Receipts of Ponder money . £ s. d. 80 0 0 66 13 4 29 6 8 Rec. out of the Com. & Cittie of Limcke .... Rec. out of the Com. of Corke Com. Rec. from Christopher Wolverston Wickloe Rec. from Mr. Oliver Eustace Rec. from Mr. Thomas Biime & Gerrald Birne .... Rec. from Mr. John Doyle for the Barrony of Talbottstowne Rec. from Mr. Thorlagh McDaniell Birne .... Com. Rec. from Nicholas fizt. Harries of Ross Wexford Rec. from the Corporacon of Ross Rec. from Mr. Richard Waddinge Rec. from the sd. Richard Waddinge . Rec. from the sd. Ric. by James Reyly Rec. from Wm. Stafford in discharge of the County aforesd. & Discharges from Captaine Anthonio and the Soveraigne of Ross by directions from the Supreame Councell Com. Rec. from the Com. and Cittie of Kil- Kilkenny kenny—vizt from the Cittie of Kil¬ kenny ^65, from the Com. <£455, makes Currt. Rec. from Mr. Richard Rec. from Mr. John Roch fitz John by the direction of the Comers, of the Army of the Com. of. Kilkenny for theire pportion. of the third levy for his Matie’s. supply . Com. Rec. from Mr. James Butler in the Cather. behalfe of the Com. of Catherlogh . Rec. from the sd. James Butler Do. do. 66 13 4 133 6 8 118 4 4 22 10 0 22 8 10 9 5 4 142 0 0 40 0 0 60 0 0 306 0 0 164 0 0 50 0 0 316 17 6 520 0 0 39 17 6 279 2 6 136 13 4 3 2 0 4 13 4 IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 317 Kec. from Mr, Brian Birne & Gerrald Byrne for the Barony of Idrone Bee. from fiargus O’Leyne & Symon Bolger in the behalfe of the 'Baronye of Catherlogh Com. Bee. from Charles Dempsie Begin. Bee. from Thomas Hovenden, Esq. Com. Bee. from Mr. Bryen fizt Patrieke Begis Bee. from Biehard & Terrenee Coghlan Esqrs. .... Bee. from Mr. Bieh. Bealinge by aequit- tanee from Sr. Adam Loftus for <£1000 ster. .... ffrom Mr. Biehard Bealinge by warrant to pay the Lo. of Inehyquin Com. Bee. from Mr. John Ayiward Water. Bee. from Mr. Piers Power Bee. from Mr. Piers Power of Adams- towne .... Bee. from the Maior & Corporation of Com. the Cittie of Waterford Tipper. Bee. from Capen Theobald Butler Bee. from the sd. Capn. Bee. from Alexander Power of the 3rd levy .... Com. Bee. from-out of Kilmalloeke . Lym’eke. Bee. from Mr. George Commyn Bee. from Mr. Biehard Shee fizt John Mareiis .... Bee. from the Comrs. of the army of the eounty of Lim’riek Bee. from Mr. Dominieke White, Magse. of the Co. Lymeke, per bill of Exehange .... Com. Bee. of Collonell Dempsie by direetions Clare. of Mr. Seeretary Bealinge indiseharge of the County of Clare Com. Bee. from Win. Creagh, p. bill of Ex- Kerry. ehange .... Com. Bee. from Charles Dempsie for the Cath. Agents .... Lym’cke Bee. from Will Commyn of Whitestowne for ditto .... Bee. from David Dowley for the use of .£ s. d. 24- 0 0 6 6 8 80 0 0 204 0 0 80 0 0 201 6 8 1333 6 8 676 13 4 164 0 0 240 0 0 105 0 0 66 16 8 400 0 0 400 0 0 425 0 0 106 13 4 133 6 8 80 0 0 292 5 5 59 18 9 465 6 8 289 13 1 64 0 0 354 0 0 318 APPENDIX TO THE tlie Agents out of the Cittie of £ s. Lymcke . . . . 68 13 Mr. Richard Shee charges the said Henry Archer with . . 19 1 The Totall of his receipts amounts to 9211 19 Which hee discharged in manner follow¬ ing, vzt. . . - . Imprimis payd to Doctor Tyrell by the Supreame Councills order, dated 11th July 1642 , . . . 40 0 To the sd. Doctor by ditto, 12 July 1642 . . . . 66 13 Pd. ffather James Talbott by ditto, 13 June 1642 . . . 34 13 Pd. to Innocent a Sto. Alberto per ditto, 17 July 1642 . . 13 6 Pd. in discharge of the CounceH’s bond to Mr. Pobt. Shee, per order dated 28 July, 1642 . . . 272 0 Pd. to Mr. Pealing, per order dated 28Julyl642 . . .22 13 Pd. to Mr. Richard Shee by two severall orders the 21st & 30th of July 1642 12 0 Pd. to Henry Headen by two severall orders—as above . . .21 Pd. to Peter Shee by order dated 30 July 1642 . . . .1 12 Pd. to Mr. John Carroll by order dated 8Sept.l642 . . .26 13 Pd. to Mr. Pealing per order dated 8th 7bris. 1642 . . . 6 13 Pd. to Henry Headen, by ditto . 0 9 Pd. to the Rt. Hon. the Lord Viscount Mountgarrett per order dated 10th 7bris 1642 . . . 13 6 Pd. Mr. Pealinge per order dat. 20th 7bris. 1642 . . . 6 13 Pd. Henry Headen per order dat. 30th 7bris. 1642 . . .0 9 Pd. in discharge of the Councelbs bonds to Robert Tobin per order dat. 28o. 1642 . . . . 66 13 (I. 4 0 0 0 4 4 8 0 4 0 4 0 4 4 4 8 4 4 4 IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 319 Pd, Mr. Thomas Greene by order from the Supreme Councill, dat. 23rd 8bris. 1643 to bee carryed to Dublin Pd. the sd. Thomas Green by the Councell’s order dat. 23rd 8bris. 1643 . . . . Sent to Mr. Greene to Dublin, . . 1643 Mr. Greene rec. from Mr. Toby Sheald in Dublin, as appe’th by Mr. Green’s discharge .... Pd. Collonell John Barry by bill of Ex¬ change from the Comrs. of the Co. of Lym’cke ... Pd. Collonell John Barry by bill of Ex¬ change from the Maior of Lniy’cke Pd. do. . . . do. from the Commrs. of Kiery . Pd. to the Lo. Tomond as may app’re by an acquittance dat. 8. March 1643 Pd. to S. Adam Loftus as appe’s by acquittance dat. 25 Aprill 1643 Pd. to sd. Ld, Adam Loftus do. dat. 29 lObris. 1643 Pd. to the Lo. of Inchiquin as appeers by acquite. dat, 27 8bris. 1643 Pd. Peter Shee by the Councell’s direc¬ tions dated the last day of 8ber 1643 . . . . Layd out in other charges & disbursmts. as may appeere by note of the pticu- lars . . • . . To be allowed for 100 pattacoons (Spanish coin) at is. 8d. le peece Pd, Bichard Shee Esq, by the Councell’s order dat 23 Ober, 1643 Pd. Mr. Nicholas fizt Harryes by order 4 March 1643 Pd. Mr. Everard by directions from the Councell in pte. paymt. of ye. amuntio. bought of him For allowance of one penny in every pattacoon of 150 toBaph Capron Pd. for a horse and man that went to conduct the sd. moneys to Boss £ s. d. 933 6 S 884 10 0 800 0 0 117 6 8 292 5 5 59 18 0 LO 00 13 1 133 6 8 2433 10 6 1333 6 8 666 13 4 65 12 0 13 6 0 2 7 2 66 13 4 40 0 0 105 0 0 3 6 8 0 6 0 320 APPENDIX TO THE Pd. Stephen Everard to the use of his brother Matthew Pd. for charges and allowances of the pattacoons as appe’r by my brother Patr. note whoe went with the money to Dublin Pd. the Soveraigne of Poss as appees. by acquittance dat 8 May 1644 fFor a bond of £50 ster. lent by Robert Tobin in my brothers behalfe to the Sup. Councell by order Aug. 1642 . . . . Allowed him for his paynes taken in* the receipt and disbursmts. of the aforesd. somes The totall of his allowed Disbursemts amounts to ... Well compared wth his receipts rests due of him £ s. d. 66 16 8 33 6 8 50 0 0 66 13 4 50 0 0 9160 5 6 51 14 8 All this precedent accompt is in hannek (enhanced.) monney. Signed, GEOFF. BARRON. The Quarter mr. of a Regimt. 2s. diem in the field . . . 0 2 0 In garryson . . . . 0 10 Chaplyn in the field 18(f. per diem . 0 16 In garryson . . . . 0 10 Provost in the field 2^. per diem . 0 2 0 In garryson . . . . 0 ' 1 0 Maior of Horse in the field ^ diem . 0 10 10 In the garryson . . . 0 7 6 General Officers for the Army and their pay. Thomas Preston Lord Genall of the Army ann. . . . 600 0 0 Hugh Byrne Cheefe Commander of the Army under the sd. Genall diem in ye field . . . . 10 0 Per diem out of ye field or in garryson 0 15 0 Collonell Pierce ffitz Gerrald Com¬ mander of the Horse diem in the field 0 15 a IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 321 Per diem out of ye field or in garrison Two Corporalls of the field each ^ diem in the field .... Each IP diem in garryson or out of ye field . . . . Thomas Dungan Quarterms. & auditor diem in ye field . In garrison or out of ye field diem . Provost Marshall diem in the field Out of the field diem Mustermt. diem in ye field . Out of the field ^ dietn Cheefe Surgeon in ye field diem Out of ye field ^ diem Chaplyn Maior or Vicar Genall diem .... Col. Sir Two Collonells each IP diem in the James field . . . . Dillon Each diem out of the field . Knt. Three Lieut. Collonells each d. in field . . Col. Pic. Each ^ d. out of the field Butler Two Chaplyns each at 25. diem Three Sariant Maiors each diem in the field .... Each ^ d. out of ye field Twenty foure Captaynes of foote ^ diem each Captayne in the field Out of the field Thirty Lieutenants of the foote each Lieut, p. diem in the field. . In Garrison .... Thirty Ensignes each Ensigne p. d. in the field .... In garryson .... Threescore Sariants each Sargeant p. d. in f. In garrison .... Threescore Corporalls each Corporall p. , d. in f. In garrison . . . , Thirty Drummers each drum p. d. in f. In garrison .... <£ s. d. 0 11 3 0 5 0 0 3 9 0 6 6 0 4 6 0 3 0 0 2 4 0 4 6 0 3 4 0 2 6 0 1 10 0 2 6 0 15 0 0 11 3 0 10 0 0 7 6 0 2 0 0 7 6 0 5 8 0 4 6 0 2 3 0 2 6 0 1 3 0 1 6 0 0 9 0 1 0 0 0 6 0 0 9 0 0 4 0 0 9 0 0 4 T 322 APPENDIX TO THE ffoote Companies. Tliirty foote Companies each Compy. to consist of 85 Soldiers besydes all officers, each Soldier p. week in the field .... In garrison p. week Garrisons. 600 ffoote to be placed as the Conncell shall direct, each Souldier to have p. week .... Souldiers of each garrison to have fyre and candlelight where the Supreame Councell shall think meete Their Captaines & other officers to be paied as is sett downe for the fform Captns. and officers. Companies of Horse. The Lord Genall of Leinster 40 horse p. diem in the field each horse Out of the field as in garrison p. weeke to each horseman Collonell John Butler 36 horse not in- includinge Lt., Cornett, or Trumpeter each horse p. diem in the field In garrison p. weeke . Lieut. Genall Byrne 36 horse as above In garrison p. weeke . Lieut. Collonell Cullen 36 horse as above In garrison p. weeke . Col. Pierce fitzGerrald 36 horse as above In garrison p. weeke . Captaine Lewis Moore 36 horse as above In garrison p. weeke . Captain Gerrald fitz Gerrald 36 horse as above .... In garrison p. weeke . The Lord of Trimbleiston 36 horse as above .... In garrison p. weeke . The Lo. of ffingall 36 horse as above . In garrison p. weeke . £ s. d. 0 3 0 0 2 6 0 2 6 0 1 6 0 6 0 0 16 0 6 0 0 1 6 0 6 0 0 16 0 6 0 0 16 0 6 0 0 1 6 0 6 0 0 1 6 0 6 0 0 1 6 0 6 0 0 1 6 0 6 0 IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 323 < Captayne James Barnewall 36 horse as £> s. d. above . . . .016 Collonel] R,ic. fferrall 36 horse as above 0 16 Sariant Maior John fiinglass 36 horse . as above . . . .016 Sariant Maior Theob. Butler 36 horse ^ as above . . . .016 Sr. James Dillon 36 horse as above . 0 16 ^ In garrison p. weeke (each) . . 0 6 0 Captaynes of Horse & other of their Officers. 11 Capens. each Capen. diem in the field ^ ^ . . . . 0 8 0 In garrison ^ diem . . . 0 4 0 14 Lieuts. each Lt. diem in ye field . 0 5 0 In garrison weeke . . . 0 17 6 14 Cornetts each Ctt. diem in ye field 0 3 0 In garrison weeke . . . 0 10 6 14 Trumpeters each Tr. 'll diem in ye field ^ . . . .020 In garrison ^ weeke . . . 0 7 0 Lt. Collonell John ffinglas by order of the Supreame Councell dated 22 Ap. 1647 in ye f. ^ diem . . 0 13 4 In garrison ^ diem . . . 0 9 0 A true Copy of the Division Signed by the Councell. ' Co. Longford . . . . 0 2 3 J Co. Killdare . . . . 0 12 Co. Wexford . . . . 0 5 5 ^ Co. Killkenny . . . 0 5 5 Citty „ . . .014 Co. Westmeath . . . 0 4 6 j Co. Wickloe . . . . 0 2 6 King’s County . . . 0 3 4 1 Meath . . , . 0 13 [ Queen’s County . . . 0 13 ^ Co. Catherlagh . . . 0 18 1 10 1 324 APPENDIX TO THE Emerus Clogherensis, Alexander M’Donnell, Lucas Dillon, N. Plunkett, Donnogli 6 Callaghane, Pickard Beallinges. ffield page. Six weekes ineanes for 6000 foote and 800 liorse with theire Officers, Maior Genall. and Pticular. as followeth :— £ s. d. Co. Longford . 748 3 9 Co. Killdare . 387 18 11 Co. Wexford . . 1801 3 6 Co. Killkenny . 1801 3 6 Citty . 443 7 4 Co. Westmeath . 1496 7 9 Co. Wickloe , . 803 12 11 King’s Co. . 1108 8 4 Meath . 415 13 1 Queen’s Co. . 415 13 1 Co. Catherlagh . 554 3 4 Suma Total . 9975 15 6 A hundred pounds more added to the within sunie of £9975 15s. 6A divided as followeth £ s. d. Co. Longford . 755 10 5 Co. Killdare . 391 16 8 Co. Wexford . 1819 4 H Co. Killkenny 1819 4 n Citty „ 447 16 n Co. Westmeath 1511 7 9 Co. Wickloe . 811 15 0 King’s Co. 1119 11 Meath 419 17 1 Queen’s Co. 419 17 1 Co. Catherlagh 559 17 4 Suma Total . 10075 15 6 The Pay of the Officers & others of the Tiaine of Artillery in the field is as followeth :— IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 325 Tlie Comaunder of the Artillery diem Michael Walsh Gunn at ye. rate of £50 ann, “i! weeke Edward Plunkett Quarter Mr. diem .) Tow Smiths at 18c/. diem Tow Carpenters ,, Each Doctor weeke le peece 20 Pioneers at 2^. 8c/. le peece weeke One Slant. diem The Capen. of the pioneers diem The Carradge Mr. & 2 Assistants diem . . . . The Clearck of the Store & 2 assistants (Whereof one to bee Auditor) ^ diem Wm. Grene cheef drum at D. „ Edwd. fflanagaiijRic fitzgerald,Laughlyn Brok & Bobt. Morden, 4 Assts. to the Cannoneer at Is. 6c/. le peece diem .... £ s. c/» 0 8 0 0 19 3 0 2 0 0 3 0 0 3 0 0 2 6 9 2 8 0 1 0 0 2 6 0 4 0 0 4 4 0 1 0 0 6 0 The Sub-division of 800 horse and 6000 ffoote upon the sevall Compties, according the Divident as followeth :— Longford . Killdare Wexford . Killkeny . Civit Killkeny Westmeath Wickloe . Kinge’s Meath Queen’s Catherlas^h Horse ffoote 60i 450 31tV 233 145| 10831 1451 1083J 35f 266| 1211 900 64f 4831 841 666| 33f 250 33f 250 451 333 800 6000 The meanes of the Officers of Eleaven £ s. d. Troopes whereof Capen. Harpool’s one for six weekes comes to , . 519 15 8 326 APPENDIX TO THE £ d. 2 Troopes consistinge of 50 horse each Troope at 12(7. le piece per diem for six weekes comes to 1155 0 0 The meanes of both the resident mem- bers of the Councell for the like tymes come to . . . 56 0 0 Tlie meanes of the Comrs. Genii, for ye like tyme comes to The Cheefe remembrancer Clarke & 84 0 0 Auditor at £40 le peece p. ann. for six weekes comes to 15 0 0 ffor a munition magazine of the lord of Lowth and other coasts spies, open for the traine of Artillery and other necessarys after the rate of £5000 p. ann. comes for six weekes to 576 18 1 O £2406 13 0| £ s. d. Com. Longford 180 1 7 ,, Kildare 93 11 4 „ Wexford 434 11 111 „ Kilkenny 434 11 Hi City „ ... 106 19 n Com. Westmid. 361 2 11 „ Wickloe 193 17 10 „ King’s .... 267 9 73 „ Midd. .... 100 6 3 „ Begin. .... 100 6 3 Catherlagh 133 13 8i £2406 13 Oh The meanes and pay of the Additional fforces of the PVince. of Leinster over and above the former 800 horse wth. theire officers and 600 foote for six weekes as followeth to be maintayned by the whole PVince. £ s. d The pay and meanes of Eleaven Troopes wth. theire offs, for six weekes amounts unto . . . 1674 15 0 IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 327 £ . 9 . cl Of tlie Earle of Antrim’s men 500 foote and of Sr. James Dillon’s 500 foote, consistinge of 10 Companies with theire officers for six weekes amounts unto .... 1028 15 0 1 Suma. Totalis . . <£2703 10 0 < The Subdevision of the meanes of five Companies of foote of Sr. James Dillon’s, and five Companies of Therle of Antryme’s, consistinge of 1000 men with theire officers for six weekes amountinge unto , £1028 15s. uppon ye Seuall. Counties as followeth: £ s. cl Com. Longford . 79 2 5 „ Kildare . 39 13 3 „ Wexford . 184 7 101 „ Kilkenny . 184 7 101 Cit. . 45 7 4 Com. Westmeath . 158 4 „ Wickloe . 82 4 101 „ King’s . 113 9 10^ „ Midd. . 42 11 61 „ Begin. . 42 11 H „ Catherlagh . 56 13 91 £1028 15 0 Fees to be taken of the Custome house of the Porte of Newrosse and other the portes within the Qrters. the Confederate Catholiques as followeth :— * Cus. Sur. Com. d. d. d. First for the entrye of all Shipps barqus from England by English or Irish .444 ffor entrie of goods in the same shipps or Barques by English or Irish .444 ffor the entrie of all shipps k barques from fforaine Countries by English or Irish . . . .888 ♦ Customers, Surveyors, and Comptrollers. \ 328 APPENDIX TO THE ffor entrie of all goods in fforraigne shipps or barques by English or Irish . . * . ffor makeinge of bonds to the use of the publique by English or Irish ffor every entry into the Certificate booke . . . . ffor every endorcment ffor takeinge bond to his Maties. use or the use of the publique to pmit. the Officers to goe a boorde at all tymes, and not to departe away before they be cleered by the Officers and theire bookes examyned For Entry of all Shipps & barques to England by English or Irish ffor entry of all goods in the same Shipps or barques by English or Irish ffor every Cocgnett by English or Irish fl[br entry of every Ship barque or boate alongest the Cost ffor makeinge every Certificate for goods which paid Custome pondage or imposicon inwardes and paieth none out .... ffor -every Certificatte uppon warrt. from the lord Deputy or other Cheefe Governor .... ffor endorceinge all warrts. & lycences ffor forraigne bills . ffor every Coaste certificate with tymber or boords for every coaste certificatte & and for entry into his Maties bookes for dischardginge of bounds & fileinge the Certificate for makeinge Certificates of retorne in ye. Kinges booke wax & pchment for cleeringe of Shipps and Barqs. and examneinge bookes from England . for cleereinge of Shipps and Barques & exameninge bookes from forraigne ptes. .... Cus. Sur. Com. d. d. d. 8 8 8 12 I 4 4 4 4 12 9 2 1 14 7 18 9 6 6 4 ' 2 12 8 6 I 12 4 4 6 3 3 12 6 6 nichil oofcOOiCD • s. d. Grant to Capen. Dardiche and Tirlagli Evens Daly’s direction to tlie Commrs. of the Army of ye. county of Wexford or other where they are quarte’d to deduct ye same out of their meanes and to be re- torned into this Court of yesd.Comrs. Mest. that I have given directions in writting to Mr. Hore, vizt.—for his .... to the Commrs. of the Army in ye County of Westmist. where they are quartered to deduct soe much out his meanes & to retorne the same to this Court wth speed. 16th Dec. 1646. O’Donnoghe Corporall to be chardged uppon theire accomptes for sev’all IFynes unpaid on them at the Cen’all Assizes held in the County of Cather- lagh 12 May 1645 and retorned by the second Remembrancer to my oiS.ce 26/8 . . . . 16 8 The Lo. Viscount Mountgarrett to be chardged wth. 300 musketts at 175. le peece by him receaved from Gen’all Preston £255 by bond dat 30 7bre. 1642. A note of what monies John O’Carroll, Esq. did pay to the Army at Birr, and of the seuall. persons to Avhom hee outpaid ye same In primis, paied to Thomas plunkett, Lt. of Sr. Robert Talbott’s troope for 25 dales meanes beginninge the 7th of May 1646 and endinge the last of the same beinge 25 dales for himselfe 336 APPENDIX TO THE Cornett Quarterm. 2 Corporalls and Trumpeters, and 50 troopes acc- ' quittance dat.—tlie sume of <£68 I 65 . Sd. str. which being duly cast uppe comes but to £63 11s. id., whereby it appeares he is overpaid uppon a mistake the sume of £5 4s. id. ster . . . . 5 4 4 * * * * * Pd. to Musterm. Thomas Barnewall for 62 daies pay begin ninge the 6 th of May at 5s. per diem the sume of £15 10 s. for his meanes being by the establishment but 3s. i^d. in garrison diem wch. in 62 daies comes to £10 8 s. ^d., soe he is overpd. more than garrison pay the sume of £5 Is. Id. ster. . . . 5 17 Paid Quarfcermr. Thomas Dungan for 40 daies meanes beginninge the 6 May 1646 after the rate of six shil- linges diem the sume of £12 ster. his pay as in garrison beinge but 4s. Q)^d. by the establishmt. which in 40 daies comes to £9 Is. 8 (f. whereby it appes. that he is ov. paid the sume of 58s. id. ster. . . , 2 18 4 ' Sume Total . £16 10 0 Co. The Maior & Corporacon of the Citty Kilkeny of Kilkenny to bee chardged wth. £21 uppon the accompt of Helias Shore being by him paied by order of the Comers, of the.Governmt. for the king ... in proclaiming the peace . . . . 21 0 0 I am indebted for this interesting Paper to Capt. Philip H. Hore, of Pole Hore, County Wexford, who, in making searches through the Undated Petitions in the P. P. 0. London, in connexion with his projected History of that county, discovered it. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 337 i Appendix U —p. 95, On the feast of St. Francis, 1646, the anniversary of the coronation of Innocent X,, the nnnzio sang High Mass in the Franciscan Church, the French envoy to the Confederates, the the mayor and corporation of Kilkenny, and the bishop of Clogher assisting at the grand function. That evening bonfires were lit in front of the nunzio’s residence in honour of Innocent X. Next day the nnnzio, accompanied by the bishop of Clogher, proceeded with the army that marched to besiege Dublin ; and on the 6th October he rested in Kilkea castFe, which the countess of Kildare bequeathed to the Jesuits. Every Friday during Lent and Advent the nunzio preached in Latin to the great contentment of his auditors—cum magna satisfac- tione—in the Church of St. Mary. On his return from Lucan with the bishop of Clogher and Owen O’Xeill, after the attempt on Dublin had failed so disgracefully, he ordered public prayers in St Mary's, where he preached (in Latin) to large congregations. On 19th December, 1646, he administered the Sacrament of holy orders in the Church of the Dominicans, thus setting an example to the Irish prelates who, because of persecution, were in the habit of ordaining in private houses. He officiated very often in the Jesuits’ church ; and onChristmas- day he sang High Mass in St. Canice’s, the bishop of Ossory and the corporation assisting at the grand function .—Rimicciiti Papers. Lord Essex’s Journall of the proceedings in the Xorthe from the 28th of Aug. tyll ye ninth of September. TKeferred to at p. 62.] The xxvyth of August the 1. lieutent. departed Dublyn with 100 horse, and having appointed all the companies of horse and foote, that were to goe into the ffeild to come to ye Xavan and Kelles, he lodged hymselfe at Ardbracken a house of the bishop of Meathes, betwixt the two townes. And because the companies came not in till the xxxth his Lo. gave Rendez¬ vous to all the armye on the Hill Clythe, f halfe a myle from Kelles towards the Brenny, and incamped that nyght * State papers, Ireland.—Eliza. Sept. 1599. ■f Now hill of Lloyd. Z 338 APPENDIX TO THE at Castlckeran'^ two myles beyond the Hill. There alsoe his Hordship was faine to stay one whole day, till his victiialls that came from Drdaghe overtooke hym : but that day he spent ill viewinge the L. Hiinsanie’s contrye, and part of the Brenny and appointed certen commyssioners to viewe all the companies of horse, and fFoote, that he might knowe the true strength of his armye and dispose it into llegyments accordingly. This day also his Lop. debated it in counsell, whether it were fytt to place a Garyson in the Brenny or not : and if in any part of that contrye where v/as the fyt(,est place 1 It was con¬ cluded that noe gaiyson could be placed in any part of that contry hirst because bothe about the Cavan, and betwixt it and Kells the contry is all waste, so as there is nothing beyond - Kells to be defended, nor to releyve the Garryson. Secondly, ])3cause all the county of Cavan is so farr within the land, and liathe no port or navigable Byver neerer then Dredaghe; so as all the vyctualls that are sent to a Garryson there must be carryed on Garrons backs, which will be very diffyciilt and subject to a greate deale of hazard ; the Pale being not able to farnishe men, carriages, and the rebells of those quarters being very stronge, and the third and last reason was for that Tyrone was lodged in Farnj^ with an army and prepared to enter into the Pale, and to have burnt and spoyled to the Gates of Dublyn, as sone as the L. lieutent was gonne as highe upp as the Cavan. And, therefore it being resolved that Kelles should be this next wynter our ffrontier Garryson towards the Cavan, the L. lieutennt marched with his armye towards Ferny and lodged betwene Bobertes Towne and Newe Castell the second Sept. The third Sept, he went from thence to Ardolphe, f where he might see Tyrone with his forces on a Hill a mile and a halfe from our quarter, but a river and a wood between hym and us. TheL. leutennt first embattelled his armye and then lodged it upon the the Hill by the burnt Castell of Ardolf, and because there Avas no Avoodd for fyre but in the valley toAvards Tyrone’s quarter his Lordship commanded a squadron of every company to goe fetch Avoodd, and sent 500 ffoote and two companies of horse for their Garde. Tyrone sent doAvn some ffoote and horse About two miles west of Kells. Idie reverend P. Ginty, parish priest of iMoynalty, in a letter to the editor says: “The ancient church with its crosses, holy Avell, and venerable shading ash-tree, (which the people say will not burn,) holds viyorously against time; but sight seers have cle.'erted this beautiful ruin since the railway was laid down between Kells and Oldcastle.” t Ardmagh, barony of Morgalhon, County Meath. I IRISH FRANCISCAN' MONASTERIES. 3,39 to impeache them and offer skirmislie but after directed them not to passe the ffoorde, when he sawe all men resolved to dyspiite it. Some skyrmishe there was from one syde to the other of the E-yver, but to lytle purpose, ffor as they offended us lytle, so wee troubled ourselves lytle with them. The next day the L. lieutennt marched throughe the plaine contry to the 1 myll of Louthe, and encamped beyond the Ryver towards Ferny, and Tyrone marched throughe the woodds, and lodged » in the next wood to us, keeping his scoutes of horse in sigh^ of our Quarter. At this Quarter the L, lieutennt beinge dryven , to stay for a supply of victuall from Droedaghe, consulted what . was to be •done upon Tyrone’s arrival, or howe his fastness j might be entree!. It was protested by all, that our armye I beinge far lesse in strength was not to attempt Trenches, and ' to fight upon suche infynite disadvantage. But a strong'Gar- ‘ rison might be placed at Louthe or some castell there aboute, j to offend the bordring Rebells, and defend the who e county of j Louthe. And since we were there, wee should one day drawe oute and offer battayle with our 2500 ffoote to their 5000, and with our 300 horse to their 700. Accordinge to which our resolucion the L. lieutennt first viewed Lowthe, and found itt utterly unfytt, there being no fewell to be gotten nere it nor any strength to be made in short tyme, and the same daye beinge the 5th of Sept., he had a gentleman sent unto him from Tyrone one Henry O’Hagan his constable of Dungannon, and a man highlie favored and trusted by him. This O’Hagan dyd delyver his master’s desyre to parle with the L. lieutennt which his Lo. refused, but told O’Hagan that he would be the next morning on the Hill betweene bothe the Campes, and if he should then call to speake with hym, he would be found in the hedd of his Troupes. With this annswere O’Hagan re¬ turned, and the next inorninge, beinge the sixthe of Sept., the ( L. lieutennt drewe out 2000 ffoote and 300 horse, leaving a Collonell with 500 ffoote and 20 horse to garde our Quarter and Bagage. The L. lieutennt first imbattelled his men upon the first great hill he came to in sight of Tyrone, and then J marched forwarde to another Hill, on which Tyrone’s guarde of horse stood, which they quitted and there our army made , goode the Place tyll it was nere three of the clock in the after¬ noon. During which tyme Tyrone’s ffoote never shewed them¬ selves out of the woodd, and his horsemen were putt from all the Hills, which they came upon betv/een us, and the woodd, by which occasion some skyrmishe was amongst the Light * horse, in which a French gentlemen of the L. lieutennt Troupe I 340 APPENDIX TO THE and an Englishe gentleman of the Earl of Southampton’s, were all that were hurt on our syde. After this skyrmishe a horseman of Tyrone’s called to ours and delyvered this message, That Tyrone would not light nor drawe foi-the, hut desired to speake with the L. lieutennt but not betweene the two armyes. Whereuppon, the L, lieutennt towards three of the clock in the afternoone drewe back againe into his quarter, and after his returne thither placed a Garrysson of 500 ffoote and 50 horse at Niselerathy,* half a myle from the myll of Lowthe where there is a square castell and a greate Bawne with a good dytch rownde about it and many thatched howses to lodge our men in. The commandment of this Garrysson^was given to Sr Xipofer St. Lawrence.f The next morning being the seventh of September, we dislodged and marched to Drumconroghe, but ere we had marched a myle Heniy O’Hagan comes againe to the L. lieutennt. and in the presence of the E. of Southampton, Sr. George Bourchier, Sr. Warham St. Leger, and diverse other gent, delivered this message : That Tyrone desired her Matie’s. mercye, and that ye lo. lieutennt. would heare hym, wch. if his lo. agreed to he would gallopp about and meete his Lo. att the tForde of Bellaclynthe| wch. was on the right hand by the way wch. his lo. tooke to Drum¬ conroghe. TJ})pon this message his Lo. sent two gent. wth. H. O’Hagan to the Iforde to viewe the Place. They found Tyrone there, butt the water so fan* out, as they told him they thought itt noe htt place to speake in, Wheruppon he grewe very im- pacient and sayde Then I shall dispayre ever to speake wth. him, and at last knowing the fforde, found a place where he standing upp to his horse’s belly might bee nere enough to bee heard by the 1. lieutennt., thoug he kept the harde ground, ippon wch. notyce the 1. lieutennt. drewe a Troupe of horse to the hill above the Ifoorde and seeing Tyrone there alone, his Lo. went downe alone, at whose comming Tyrone saluted his Lo. with much reverence, and they talked neere half an hower togeither, and after went ether of them to their companyes on the Hills. But within a while Con O’Xeale, Tyrone’s base sonne, comes downe and desired from his fiather That the lo. lieutennt. would let him bringe downe some of the pryncipall men that * Then helonging to Patrick Chamherlaine, and situated in the parish of Philipstown, harony of Ardee. t Afterwards twenty-second baron of Howth for whose base conduct and character see Flight of the Earls.”—V'nd Ed. p. 99. 'I Anciently Anaghclart, now Aclint, on the Lagan, where stands the bridge between the counties of Louth and Monaghan. IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES. 341 M'ere wth. 113011 , and that his Lo. would appoint a nomber to come downe on ether syde Wherenppon his lo. willed hym to bringe downe sixe wch. he dyd, namely his brother Cormock, McGennys, McGuire, Euer McCowley, Henry Ouington, and one Owyn that came from Spaine but is an Irisheman by birthe. The lo. Lieutenant seeing them at the IFoorde went downe accompanied wth. the E. of Southampton, Sr. George Bourchier, Sr. Warham St. Leger, Sr. Har. Hauers, Sr. Edward Wingfieild, and Sr. Wm. Constable. At their second meeting Tyrone and all his compny. stoode up almost to their Horses’ Bellies in water, the lo. lieutennt. wth his upon harde grownde, and Tyrone spake a good while barehedded, and saluted wth. a greate deale of raspect all those that came downe wth. the lo. lieutennt. After almost half an hower’s conference, yt was concluded that there should be a meeting of comyssioners the nexte morninge at a fFoorde by Garrett Fleminge’s castell, and so they parted the lo. lieutennt. marchinge wth. his armye to Hrumconroghe, Tyrone returninge to his campe. The next morning The lo. lieutennt. sent Sr. Warham St. Leger, Sr. Wm. Constable, Sr. Wm. Warren, and his secretary Henry Wotton, wth. instruct eons to ye place of meeting. Tyrone came himself to the parley, and sent into Garrett Fleming’s castell four pryn- cipall gentlemen, and pledges for the safety of our commyssrs. In this parley was concluded a cessacon. of armes for sixe weekes and soe to contynue from six weeks to six weeks tyll Mayday or to be broken uppon xuyen. dayes warning. It was also covenanted that such of Tyrone’s confederacy as would not declare their assents in this cessacion. should be left by hym to be jirosecuted by the lo. lieutennt. And that restitution should be made for all spoyles within xxty. dayes after notyce gyven. That for performance of the covenants the L. Lieutennt. shoulde give his worde, and Tyrone his oath. This being con¬ cluded on the viij day of Sept, on ye ixth. the Lo. Lieu¬ tennt. despersed his armye, and went himselfe to Dredaghe, and Tyrone retyred wth. all his fforces into ye hart of his contrye. APPENDIX TO THE MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. The memorial wliicli the spiritual and lay lords of the Con¬ federates sent to Rome is now in the archives of St. Francis’s, Dublin, as fresh as when it was signed in Kilkenny. The same depository contains the autograph* of the subjoined letter from lord Mountgarrett to father Wadding - Rev. Sir —What estate your countrie is in, and how brought to it, your nephew,"^ who, together with father Matthew Hartegan, is imployed to sollicit our friends, can inform you. All the oppressions a corrupt state could lay on us we have hitherto witli a silent fortitude borne, and would still, did not Puritan impietie swell to that height, as it spared not heaven nor earth. Our king and cpieen (most virtuous princes) are half deposed for but countenancinge our religion ; and it was resolved that our religion should be rooted out of our countries. And we could no longer forbear, but have, though allmost un- ai’ined, put ourselves in armes, and shall undoubtedly offer ourselves as slaughter to those armed furies, if his hollyness (in whose pitie to our distress, and known zeal to our religion, we chiefly confide) relieve us not with timely ayde. I, in the name and behalfe of your distressed countrie, intreate your reverence with all befitting care to solicit, as well Avith hi.s holyness as other Catholique potentates whose abilities may adA^ance our holy cause ; and assure you you Avill both oblige your countrie (which shall be gratefully acknowledged) and ingadge to you the constant affections of, “Father, your A^ery loveing friend, “ Mountgarrett. “Kilkenny, 27 Martii, 1642, stilo A^ete.” * Geoffrey B. Barron. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 343 |, Appendix B—p. 113. I I In his graphic report of the ecclesiastical and political state of Ireland in 1646, Biniiccini says :—that the aged prelates (those, doubtless who had lived in the days of persecution) would have been perfectly satisfied if the king and lord Ormond guaranteed them free exercise of religion, although in private - (ancorche occulto) to save the substance of the faith, and keep them from getting into broils with the government. The young < bishops, however, Emer MacMahon and the coadjutor of Limerick took the nunzio’s view of the case, and, instead of , being content with mere toleration, bent all their energies to obtain open and untrammelled exercise of the faith in all its I splendour.— Nimz iatura. i' Appendix C—p. 119. I The Dublin archives of St. Francis’ enable us to throw addi- ! tional light on the career of O’Queely, the celebrated arcli- i bishop of Tuam. His grace, as the subjoined diploma shows, ' took the degree of doctor of medicine :— ! “ Nos infrascripti doctores medici, scholarum et regii profes- sores, attestamur haruin latoreni D. Mai. Queeleum, Hibernum, assiduum et sedulum per quatuor annos se priebuisse proelectionibus auditorem, dignumque ducimus qui in artis nostrse sacris honorifice promoveatur. In cujus rei fidein sub- « scripsimus. Dat. Paris, 16th Sept., 1627. “ Lutetiie, Cousinot Charles, etc., etc.” O’Queely was very desirous to be advanced do the episcopate of Killaloe, his own native diocese, but the holy see, notwith- I standing the strong recommendation of many of the Irish pre¬ lates and nobility of Munster, promoted him to the primacy ' of Connaught. On the 4th September, 1624, Thomas '» Dease, Meclensis, William Terry, Corcag. Bichard Arthur, ; Limericensis, and David Botlie, Ossoriensis, certify that Dr. ■ O’Queely had taught philosophy in Paris, where he enjoyed I great comforts, all of which he resigned for the sake of the , Irish mission. For this and other reasons these prelates pray Urban VIII. to bestow the mitre of Killaloe on him :— , a Professus est philosophiam Lutetiag, relictisque in Gallia commoditatibus non aspernandis, idcirco eumdem commen- damus D. N. Urb. VIII. ut curet ejus assumptionem ; ne locum ipsius viiduti debitum aliorum ambitio prseoccupet.” O’Queely’s most intimate friend among the })relates was \ 344 APPENDIX TO THE Ricliard Arthur of Limerick, who, in the following document would have the Holy See believe that John O’Moloney’s deseids were nowise equal to those of the then vicar-apostolic of Killaloe :— “ Richardus, Dei et Apostolical Sedis gratia Lymericensis episcopus, omnibus ad quos prmsentes litterae pervenerint, salutem in eo qui est vera saliis. Animadvertentes aliquos nomine D. Joannis Mollony, S. T. Parisiensis doctoris, nuper impetrasse ab aliquibus viris bonis, et fide dignis, ex falsa (non dubitamus) informatione, quasdam litteras commendatitias quibus commendabatur tanquam consanguineus reverendissimi in Christo Domini, D. Mai. Mullowna,* luce memorifp, episcopi Duacensis, et nobilis perillustris domini, D. Dermitii, baronis de Grlanmullan,t seque duximus veritati testimonium perhibere. Quoniam igitur hujusmodi commendatio in pnejudicium videatur verti R, D. Malachise Qumlei, S. T. D,, vie, apostolic. Laonensis dioceseos, vir nobis notissimi, vitrn immaculatae, spectatae eruditionis, et optime de grege sibi commisso tarn in temporalibus quam in spiritualibus meriti, utpote qui totam illani vastissimam diocesem mirifice in utroque statu intra paucos annos reformavit; quern pneterea et nos cum coeteris totius regni praesiilibus scepius ut notum est, et impensius Sacrie Congregationi commendavimus tanquam dignissimum istius diocesis episcopatu; quern ju-aefatus tamen D. Joannes ut puta- mus hand ita prudenter et discrete ambiri audivimus. Et cum sane eidem D. Joanni, quoad scire unquam, aut audire hactenus potuimus, multis titulis dictus Malachias praeferendus sit ’ hinc igitur est quod totius istius vastissimae Thomonice diocesis corpus nobilitatis praecipuae (virorum equidem nobilissi- morum) in vicinia maxime dicti competitoris Domini Joannis, et per nos commendatissimi D. Malachiae ut supra testimonio, et informatione edocti, praesentiiim tenore attestamur eumdem D. Joannem honestis et bonis parentibus oriundum, nobilem tamen non esse, nec consanguinitate cum dicto reverendissimo Duacensi conjunctum, neque cum honorabile praefato D. Barone Dermitio O’Mullowne (testibus praedictis nobilibus, et aliis fide dignissimis), nec quidern ejusdem esse prosapiae. In quo¬ rum fidemhis siibscripsimus, et sigillum nostrum adponi curavi- nius. Datum Limerici in Hybernia die Nov. 4ta, A.s. 1629. “ Richardus Arthurius. “ Dionysius Hart, Not. Ap. et S. T. D.” * Bishop of Kilmacduagh. f Title is now extinct. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 345 Tlie chief nobility of the diocese of Killaloe did not hesitate to preconise, as far as they could, their favourite, who, they tell Cardinal Verallo, protector of Ireland, was not only eminent for his large attainments and zeal, but also for his ancient lineage. It is noteworthy that the Dermot O’Brien, baron Inchiquin, who subscribed the following recommendation, was father of Murrough, sixth baron, who fought against the Con¬ federates and massacred the priests on the Rock of Cashel :— “ Nos infrascripti proceres primarique nobiles diocesis Lao- nensis in regno Hibernio?, animadvertimus communem nostram, et quotidianam populi necessitatem, episcopum postulare, ad huic nostro gregi in rebus ad salutem necessariis succurrendum, Sacramento prsecipue confirmationis, quo seque apud nos carent parentes, ac ipsorum proles; quare illustrissimo domino D. Cardinali Verallo, regni nostri protector! vigilantissimo, necnon reverendissimo domino Retro Lombardo, totius Hibernise primati, humiliter supplicamus, ut nostro nomine studiosissimi velint agere, apud Sacram Congregationem cardinalium, sum- mumque ecclesiae pontificem quatenus nobis in episcopum dare dignetur eximium dominum D. Malachiam Quselum, Universi- tatis Parisiensis doctorem theologum, olim philosophiie profes- sorem, prothonotarium apostolicum et vicarium apostolicum nostrse prefatse diocesis, ejusdemque decanum; nostro enim judicio coeteris aspirantibus ad hanc episcopalem sedem (si qui sunt) censetur preferendus. Etenim a duobus jam annis suda- vit donee universum suum clerum ad meliorem vitoe frugem reduxit; nos quoque omnes, communemque populum verbo, et exemplo, plusquam hactenus alius, aedificavit. Nunc similiter diligentissime laborat cum summo apud omnes respectu, et auc- toritate. Insuper de gremio loci est, pra^claris ortus parentibus, prseclarioribus tamen virtutibus et scientia ornatus. Qua- jiropter hunc eximium Dominum optime de nobis meritum, unanimi consensu, quantum in nobis est, ante omnes alios, suae sanctitati (cujus pedibus, more majorum nostrorum, in omni adversitate immobiles semper subjacemus) presentamus, et omni, qua possumus, diligentia, commendamus : supplices orantes, ut hoc eximio Domino a nobis presentato et unice postulate episcopo, et nulli alio diutinam afflictionem consolari non dedignetur. Hie subscripsimus, 17 Augusti, anno 1624. “Joan. MacNamara, eques auratus. “ Terlagh MacMahon. “ Daniel MacNamara. “ Rowland de la Hoyde. 346 APPENDIX TO THE “ Boet. Clancliy. Terlagli O’Brien. “ Daniel O’Brien. “ Dermitius O’Biyen, baro. de Insyqinus. “ Thaclens O’Brien, films comitis Tuomoniye. Daniel O’Bryen, eques auratus et filius co¬ mitis Tuomonise.” Thomas Walsh, archbishop of Cashel, urged that O’Queely was the right man for Killaloe, and that the appointment of anybody else would be an irreparable mistake:— “Neque inter nos qui earn sedem praetendunt alium inve- niri rnerito, et talento parem, aut etiam qui damnum ex ejusdem Malachise summotione emersurum reparare possit.” Another, whose influence was then very considerable at the Vatican, writes to father Luke Wadding, warnihg him that the queen-mother of France had written to the French ambas¬ sador at Borne to jiray the promotion of O’Moloney to Killaloe. John O’Neil], earl of Tyrone, preferred O’Queely, whom he recommends thus :— Illustrissime Domine —-Tntellexi nuper reginam niatrem ex Oalba qiiorundam informationibus inductam ut scriberet ad legatum Calliarum in urbe residentem, de promovendo quodam sacerdote Hyberno in episcopum cujusdam diocesis provincia? Cassilensis. Satis jam inculcatum est illustrissimam D. Y. turn nostris, turn etiam aliorum nobilium, necnon totius cleri fre- quentibus litteris, dominum Malachiam Quseleum, vicarium apostolicum, S. Theol. D. virum de religione et patria optime meritum, quern clems, et proceres regni suis litteris siepe datis in episcopum eriixe postularunt, et in dies postulant. ^qui- tatis proinde et communis boni ratio exigere videtur, ut viri hujus merita, et justi tarn cleri, quam populi desideria respici- antur, potius quam illse epistolie, quas solus favor impetravit. Ut igitur pro solito suo zelo in commune bonum patriae nostrae, huic praetensioni quantocius occurrat illustrissima D. vestra enixe rogo. Quam D. O. M. Ecclesiae suae servet incolumem. Datum Briixellis, 20 Jan,, 1629. “ O’Neillus, Comes Tyronae.” But, as we have already stated, those instances of prelates and nobles could not divert the holy see from appointing O’Moloney. No one lamented O’Queely’s disappointment more than did Thomas Messiiigham, rector of the Irish College,. -AIEMOniS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 347 Paris, author o£ the Florilegium,’’ etc., etc., who, writing to Luke Wadding, says: “Albeit it may be stated that Mr. Malachias hath a more honourable place, yet I doe think that he had rather have the other, wherein he laboured so much with the good likeing of all men.” O’Queely’s consecration took place in a private oratory in Galway, and along with the prelates assisting at the function was Eugene, bishop of Kilmore. Messingham’s autograph letter, from which the ex¬ tract is taken, is dated Paris, 15 July, 1630. During the eleven years that intervened between his advancement to the archbishopric and the insurrection of 1641, O’Queely acquired the esteem of all honest men and the hatred of the ferocious Puritans, who had made a solemn covenant to extirpate Irish Papists from the soil. His activity at this period, when he deemed it his duty to arm for God, king, and country, is described in a letter from Edmund O’Dwyer, dated Rochelle, 16th October, 1642 :— “ Tuam is the most laborious and faithful member we have in all the country, posting to all parts where he thinks to effect any good turne.Tuamensis is the only bishop souldiour in the countrye, general of the Connatian army. He mayntayns at his own charge 200 foot, God be praised. If all other things, said he, fayle, I can have a souldiour’s pay : may be it will be the nearest way to heaven.”^ Many of the archbishop’s letters have been returned to the country from which they were dispatched nigh three centuries ago, and, among others, the following, addressed to father Luke Waddins: :— “ Reverend and my Highly Respected Eriend —^I doe much feare Dr. Dwyer’s troubles occasioned that your paternitty receaved noe woord of what intelligences I wrote to you since the beginning of our commotion in Ireland. The quarrell grew to that height that this nation is fully resolved to live and die for God, king, and countrie. I leave to the reverend father Hugh Bourke to acquaint your paternitie with all things con- cernynge the great cause concluded and voted in our National Assembly here at Kilkenny, begun the 24th of last October, and ended the 21st of this present month. The Houses of the Lords and Commons and the House of Convocation are extra¬ ordinarily sensible of your paternitie’s care of this fatall nation, and doe hope by your mediation to receive further reliefe from *Archiv. St. Francis’, Dublin. 348 APPENDIX TO THE Ills holiness, his ne[)hews, and the Congregation de Propaganda Fide. We expect with impatience to see this warre to he approved by his said holiness, which we hope he will grannt nppon the receipt of onr letters to that end, which shall goe at once with those few lines, to be presented to him by yonr paternitie, who is constituted onr agent in the cittie, as the said father Hugh Bourke is in Flanders, Holland, and Ger¬ many ; Dr. Edward Tyrrell and others in France and Spaine. I wish your paternitie much happiness, and so, with the remembrance of my service to you and all yours, I rest, and will ever remain ‘‘ Your most deare friend, “ Malachias Akpus. Tuamensis. “Kilkenny, 26th September, 1642.” The learned aid which O’Queely gave to father John Colgan shows how much his grace appreciated the Inishowen Fran¬ ciscan’s literary labours. A chalice which the archbishop presented to Bosserilly convent still exists, and bears this inscription : “ Malachias O’Queeleus, S. Theologice Parisiensis doctor, et Tuamensis archiepiscopus, fieri fecit hiinc calicem pro conventu Frat. Min. de Bosserill, 1640.” Appendix D—p. 120. This was Richard, third viscount, general and president of the Confederates. He married Margaret, daughter of Hugh O’Neill, and had issue Edmund, fourth viscount, who married lady Dorothea Touchet, second daughter of the Earl of Castlehaven. But, before telling the reader how the Roman Court re¬ garded the frigid and almost unrubrical manner in which Mountgarrett received the nunzio, we have thought this the fitting place for an account of that most reverend personage’s progress from Kenmare to Kilkenny. For this most interest¬ ing and graphic narrative we are indebted to the Rinuccini Papers, so often quoted in these pages. Along with the Eng¬ lish version of Masari’s letter we give the Latin and Italian originals, in order to guard both against all accidents. Seven months after his departure from Rome—three of which he spent in Paris—Rinuccini, suffering severely from sea sickness, and somewhat scared by Plunket, whom he designates a “ pirate,” sighted the Irish coast, and gave God thanks for having delivered him from all the dangers he had to encounter after leaving Rochelle. His dean of Fermo will relate the rest. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 349 On the evening of the 21st of October, ]64o, our captain I made the Kenmare river, but knowing that there were I rocks ahead of the frigate, instead of proceeding landwards, ^ he cast anchor, and determined that we should stay there till The wind blowing oft the land embaiiassed us considerablyrand we had to work hard an entire day before reaching the shore. As the nunzio was most anxious to get ashore, boat was manned, and we had him conveyed to the cabins of some poor shepherds and fishermen, in one of which we prepared his bed, which was brought from the frigate. God was pleased to give him a good night’s sleep, for he never closed an eye during the six days we were at sea^ aftei leaving Rochelle. Next morning I waited on him, and finding him in that poor hut, could, not help saying that as he was expected bv the Irish people in the capacity of legate,^ it was very con- oTiious that, like our Lord and Saviour, his first dwelling-place Siould be a shepherd’s cabin. I then served his mass of thanksgiving,* which he celebrated before a multitude of the A few davs afterwards the Nunzio sent the following inscription to Fermo, with directions to have it engraved on a votive tablet, and set in the wall of his cathedral:— J . B . KINUCCINUS . AKCHPUS . ET . PBINCEPS . FIRMAN US . PRIMUSQUE . S . D . N . INNOCENTII . TAVM . XMI . AC . SEDIS . APLICZE . APUD . FCEDERATOS . IBERNIA5 . CATHOLICOS . NUNTIUS . EXTRAORDINARIUS . auoi) . rubella . SOLVENS . IN IBERNIAM . NAVIGATURUS . PRIMO . NAVIUM . OCTO . ANGLICANAUUM . QUATUOR . HORAS . PERNICIOSISSIMAM . INSECTATIONE.M . PERVERTEUIT . AC . DEIN . TURBATISSIMO OCEANO . PIRATAM . HCERETICUM . PERTINACB . VELOCITATE . ULTRA . QUADKAGINTA . LEUCAS . SPATIOUUE . NOVEM . HORARUM . PENE . JAM . IMMINENTEM . NAVIGII . CURSU . SUPRA . FIDEM . ELUSERIT . UTRAMOUE . VICTOHIAM . BEATISSIMAi . HUIC . VIRGINI . REFERENS . ACCEPTAM . ET. SUA5 . IN . EAM . FIDUCIA3 . ET . EJUSDEM . IN . SE MaTRIS CLEMENTI.® . HOC . AD . POSTEROS. MOMMENTUM . EXT ARE . VOLUlT , A . D . MDCXLV . Beneath this the citizens of Fermo set up another tablet, inscribed us:— FIRMANA . CIVITAS . DIOCESIS . PROVINCIA , PRO . FCELlCISSIMO . REDITU . PRiESULIS . ET . PAIRIS . OPTIMI . VOTUM . ADDlT . APPENDIX TO THE :^50 people of tliat region, who, despite its rugged character, came thither. I then returned to the frigate with a few persons of the nunzio’s retinue, and as he set out next day for the castle of Ardtully, I kept him constantly in view, and sailed close to the shore. The kindness of the poor people, whom his lordship encountered, as it were by chance, was incomparable. They immediately slaughtered a large ox, two sheep, and a hog. They also brought a prodigious quantity of beer, butter, and milk ; and as for us aboard the frigate, we, too, experienced the kindness of the poor people, who supplied us excellent fish and oysters so large that we could desire nothing better. Meanwhile I continued my course in the frigate, creeping along and following his lordship, until I saw a haven about fifty paces long and a musket shot in breadth, so very beautiful, that, yielding to impulsive curiosity, I had a boat lowered, and rowed off to inspect the place. While admiring the attractive¬ ness of that anchorage, I was instantly surrounded by a crowd of men, women, and children, who came running down from the hills to see me. Some of them observing the carven image of our Lord which I wore on my breast, approached, one by one, and kissed it. They then made signs of kindness, and compelled me, with gentle violence, to enter one of the nearest cabins, where they made me a seat of a pillow stuffed with feathers. A venerable old matron, with her daughters and other women, came close to me and furtively kissed my lips, and I believe the others would have done likewise if I did not give them to understand, by signs, that they should not act thus to one who carried on his person our Saviour’s image, and was a priest in the suite of the apostolic nnnzio. The same matron then brought me a wooden bowl of most delicious milk, which she pressed me to drink. It was so good I took more than one draught. I had hardly got away from the crowd in order to go aboard, when I was followed by sundry young fellows, who accompanied me to the water’s edge, and signified by signs that they were anxious to go further. How wonderful that here among the mountains and wilds, where the people have been reduced to misery by the ravages of heretics—how wonderful that all of them, men, women, and children, knew by heaid the Lord’s Prayer, Angelical Salutation, and the pre¬ cepts of the Church ! Meanwhile the nunzio was met by some of the nobility, who came with a detachment of troops to escort him ; for his landing had been made known by messengers despatched to various districts. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 351 > That night the nunzio ^Yas liospitably entei'tained by the ^ lord of that mansion and region, who treated him with B great magnificence. There he rested two days. The actual lord of the circumjacent country, called Glenaruachty, according to immemorial Irish custom, is the Mac-Finneen, a dignity which, with the estates, always devolves on the male heir alone. The Mac-Finneen at that time was Donogh Mac-Carthy—a noble singularly distinguished for his many excellences—of the royal and most ancient family of the Mac-Carthies, whose wide spreading l^ranches, kinsmen and clansmen, inferior, indeed, to their chief, but at the same time very powerful and wealthy—namely, the O’Sullivans of Bear and Bantry, the O’Callaghans, the Mac-Carthies Beevagh, and 'many others, having heard of the nunzio’s arrival, lost no time in coming to bid him welcome. All of them were hospitably entertained in Ardtully by the Mac-Finneen and his excellent wife, Catherine Mac-Carthy, daughter of Lord Muskerry, sur- named Cormac, the Blind. Along with the nunzio’s retinue, the Mac-Finneen* sumptuously entertained all the Irish who accompanied the former to Ireland. ^ From Ardtully our route lay over the mountains of the g County of Cork, through that boggy region which the Irish g call “ jSliabruacha”—blessed solitudes indeed, where no P sybarite chariot is to be seen, and where one is not stunned by that awful uproar which in Paris is incessant, and will not allow one to think of heaven or his soul. Having gone a considerable distance, the nunzio, unable to mount a horse, was provided with a rude litter, and in this he was carried towards Macroom, the residence of Lord Muskerry. f Within three miles of that town the nunzio was met by Muskerry’s son at the head of fifty horsemen. Near the castle we en¬ countered a detachment of infantry together with some priests, secular and regular, in processional order, who received liis lordship with the cross. He then rode about a mile to the * Now represented by Eandal MacCarthy, Esq., Limerick. f iMuskerry was banished out of Ireland in 165 p and went to France, and thence to Poland, where he had a grant of mone\ from the king of that country. He then went to Spain, and avain to France, when Charles H,, then in Flanders, created him earl of Clancarthy. He returned to Ireland, and recovered his estates. Clancarthy’s son (Cormac) married the only daughter of the Marquis of Clanricarde, a groat heiress by her mother; and Margaret, Clancarthy’s eldest daughter, married the earl of Fingal, whose father was a distinguished member of the Catholic Con¬ federacy. 352 APPENDIX TO THE cliurcli, into wliicli a vast crowd instantly poured, and tliei-e prostrate on the pavement, craved his benediction, giving at the same time unmistakable signs of their joy. At the palace door he was received by Lady Muskerry, whose husband was then from home, either with the army of the Confederates or in Dublin, discussing Lord Ormond’s peace. Her ladyship, children, and entire household, knelt to the nunzio, kissed his garments, devoutly asked and obtained his blessing. This lady was Helena Butler, sister of James earl of Ormond, singularly distinguished by all the attributes that could adorn one so nobly born. Here the nunzio and his retinue, together with a nume¬ rous following of those who escorted him from the MacFin- neen’s country, and a multitude that thronged in from th& neighbouring districts, were sumptuously feasted for four days ; and here his lordship had assurance that he need apprehend no danger from the heretic garrisons, even, if they were bold enough to assail him. The bishop of the diocese of Ardfert, in which the nunzio first set foot, was then Richard O’Connell, who, hearing of his arrival, hastened from the distant quarter in which he was administering the sacrament of confirmation, to Macroom to ofier obeisance to the illustrious personage, and, having done so, made him a present of a very fine horse. Embracing the bishop, the nunzio said, “ Here I receive the first fruits of the Irish episcopacy—you are the first of them I have seen.” Thenceforth that prelate of Ardfert never de¬ flected a hair’s breadth from him. b After resting four days in Macroom the nunzio comply- g ing with the earnest request of the chief of Drumsecane, g the bishop of Ardfert, and Boetius Egan, afterwards the I martyr bishop of Ross, proceeded to the castle of Dermot ® MacCarthy, a junior branch of the princely family of that name. Here he was met by two troops of cavalry commanded by Richard Butler, brother of the marquis of Ormond. The lord of Drumsecane, MacDonogh, sur-named Dermot MacCarthy, then a widower, and Donogh, his son, wdiose wife was sister of lord Muskerry, entertained the nunzio, his retinue and the nobility and gentry who came to welcome him, most splendidly. Thither came the O’Keefes from their castle on the Blackwater, together with their dependents, all of whom partook of Mac- Carthy’s hospitality, and did homage to the representative of Innocent X. Such joy and junketing were never before seen in that mansion. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 353 Q From Drimisecane the nunzio proceeded to Clonmeen,'^ I the castle of the most noble Donogh O’Callaghan, chief g of his name, who entertained with singular magnificence the P crowd of nobles and gentles that hastened thither to do homage to the representative of the holj see. From Clonmeen M we prosecuted our journey until we arrived in Kilmallock, P where we were greeted by vast multitudes of that fine city ^ and neighbourhood. The nunzio rested with the Oominicanf ^ fathers there, and then set out for Limerick, at whose gate he was honorably received by the clergy, corporation, and military then garrisoning the city for the Confederate govern¬ ment. The aged bishop Arthur, worn out by years, met the nunzio at the door of his cathedral, and presenting the insignia of his high office said : “ these I received from the holy see, and I now return them to its representative. J * On tliG brGabins^ out of tliG rGbollion of 1641, Donogh 0 Callaghan of ClonmcGn, tho chiof of tho powGrftH clan Callaghan, whosG Gxtonsivo territory is still known by the name of Pobble O Callaghan, actively espoused the Confederate cause ; and consequently was dispossessed of his vast estates by the Cromwellians, and transplanted to Clare, in the year 1653 In .1678 he was dead, as the certificate obtained by his son Doaoodi ^of Liscallane,) in that year, from the commissioners of the court "of Claims, recites that the son ckirned the lands formerly set out to the father The present head of this branch would seem to be lord Lismore; but the name of 0’(^allaghan is still extensively and respectably borne in the old district, much of which with the remains of the castle is now the property of George Grehan, Esq. f Not in the ancient convent founded by the White Knight, 1291, hut in a house (domus conductitia), which the fathers rented. + We subjoin Lynch’s Latin version of the legend of the Mitre and Crozier of Limerick :— “ Pontificalibus interim ornamentis intertextis auro a se comparatis successoii relicti? cum pede et mitra, quseyoelo quondam demissa luisse putatur. Qumdam enim necessitas exegit ut Dublinii proesulurn coetus pontificalibus ornamentis instructus incederet. Talem autem eventum Limerecensis episcopus non prmvidens episcopate suum instrumHntum domo non extulit. Quapropter amicos oravit ut per civium Dubhniensium mdes propere discurrerent et expetita instrumenta in iis disquiireient. Quorum laborum cum exitu? irritus evasisset, ex iis unam navim recenter appulsam conspicatus, ad earn ocius accurrit, ac sciscitatus si mitra et pedum in ea veheretur qovis eo pretio se comparaturum dixit. ^a\aichus utrumque querenti tradidit, et monuit ut prjus exploiit episcopus an ea f 5 ibi arrideant, quam pretium solvat. Deinde pedi et mitrae bajulo nondum extra conspectum progresso, navis e portu, sublatis yelis solm., Sic utrumquv Limerici hmsit donee hseresi exorta divitis Cathohci custodiae creditum est, qui gemmis e mitra detractis, ei adulterinas inseruit e vitro, cujus d(dicti pmnas sobedes ab illo x^ropagata vidit, nam in paupertatem gravissimam inciderunt.” ' 354 APPENDIX TO THE a ^ I have not words that could describe to you the kind- ^ ^ ness and politeness which we experienced at the hands of ^ this Irish people, whose devotion to the holy see is beyond m all praise, and I assure you that I was often moved to g g tears when I saw them, wholly forgetful of self, kneeling ^ "g- in the very mire in order to kiss the nunzio’s robes and hands as if they were holy relics. At almost every stage of our journey the nunzio was escorted by strong squadrons of horse to protect him from the enemy. We are in Ireland ! we are in Ireland ! praise to God ! The country through which we passed, although mountainous, is picturesque, and every where covered with all sorts of cattle browsing in the rich pastures. Then we had very extensive valleys diversified by woods not very dense indeed, and partak¬ ing less of the hoi-rid than of the beautiful. Such was the general aspect of the scenery for several miles of our route. Once down from the mountains, we beheld an immense tract of lowland terminating in gentle hills and dales of surpassing loveliness, well tilled, abounding in herds, oxen, and sheep, from which fine wool is made. The men are good looking, incredibly strong, fieetrunners, equal to any hardship, and indescribably patient. They are given to arms ; and those who apply themselves to learning be¬ come highly distinguished in every domain of science. The women are exceedingly beautiful, and heighten their attractions by their matchless modesty and piety. They converse freely with everyone, and are devoid of suspicion and jealousy. Their style of dress differs from ours and rather resemi^les the French ; all wear cloaks with long fringes ; they have also a hood sewn to the cloak, and they go abroad without any other covering for the head ; some wearing a kerchief as the Greek women do, which being gracefully arranged, adds, if possible, to their native comeliness. They are very prolific, have many children, some as many as fifteen and twenty; their offspring are beauti¬ ful, tall, and strong, many of them light-haired, and with skin fair and ruddy. Their entertainments are most superb, for they never want great quantities of flesh and fish. They are incessantly drink¬ ing healths, and use Spanish and the red wines of France, excellent beer, and most delicious milk. Butter is eaten at all meals. We have begun to accommodate ourselves to their manner of living and prefer their beer to the wine, which is very good. They have good cheese, and their gardens supply fruit; such as apples, pears, plums, artichokes, and everything MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 355 is very cheap. A great ox fetches a pistole (doppio), a wether, three pauls ; a pair of capons, one paul; a hundred eggs, two pauls. A large loaf is sold for a trifle. Game is so plentiful that it sells for half nothing, and wild fowl is so abundant that one may knock them down with a stick, especially thrushes, blackbirds, and chaffinches. Fresh and salt-water fish abound, all of most excellent quality, such as pike, herring, salmon, trout, etc. We have seen 150 lbs. salmon bought for three pauls, and one thousand oysters and pilchards for two pauls. The horses are very good and handsome; one can be had for twenty dollars that in Italy would bring more than a hundred gold pieces.* Of the journey from Limerick to Kilkenny the Rinucchii Pampers, unfortunately, furnish no details. The nunzio, how¬ ever, informs us that the night before his arrival in the capital of the Confederates, he rested in a hamlet within three miles of it—may it not have been Ballybur in which the castle of the Comerfords stood ?—in order that the civil and military authorities might have time to make preparation for his recep¬ tion. Thither came three gentlemen, accompanied by Kichard Belling, deputed by the supreme council to bid him welcome, and one of them, a person of considerable attainments, pronounced a brief address. Having mounted his litter and proceeded towards the city, the nobility and gentry of Kilkenny and the neighbouring counties came to meet him, the most distin¬ guished among them quitting their saddles to present their greeting. Fifty students armed with pistols having formed a semicircle about him, one of them wearing a peculiar costume, and crowned with laurel, recited some verses consfratulatino- him on his arrival. The secular and regular clergy in proces¬ sional order had assembled in St. Patrick’s church, outside the city gate, where the municipal body awaited him, and as soon as he had kissed the cross presented by the vicar-general lie mounted on horseback, wearing cappa and pontifical hat. The canopy was borne by some of the citizens who, notwith¬ standing the rain of that dismal November day, remained uncovered all along the High Street, which was lined on either side by detachments of infantry. In the centre of the market place, and under the shadow of the grand old cross (which vandalism has long since destroyed), there was a vast assemblage, which halted till a student had pronounced an address. The procession then swept onwards to the ancient * See the original Latin and Italian at end of the volume. 356 APPENDIX TO THE catliedral, at whose grand gate lie was met by the aged bishop of Ossory, (David Dothe) who, robed in cope, after handing the aspersorium and incense, conducted the niinzio to the grand altar. There, when prayers had been said according to the ceremonial, he gave solemn benediction, and published indul¬ gences. The festivities of the occasion were terminated by another address of congratulation, and that very day Rinuccini, escorted by lord Muskerry, general Preston,* some members of the nobility, and detachments of troops, went on foot to the castle, 'in whose splendid gallery he was received by the presi¬ dent of the Confederates, who, perhaps, uninstructed by Belling, then performing the role of gentleman usher, never moved an inch, either on his arrival or departure. This, it seems was quite contrary to the manner in which Mountgarrett should have acted, and when the matter was laid before Cardinal Panfilio he wrote to the nunzio:—“The account of your reception pained us, and although the president of the council might have been more demonstrative in politeness, we never¬ theless think it wiser to raise no controversy on the subject. It will be for Father Luke Wadding to signify, as if from himself, that such receptions should be conducted according to the ceremonial in the court of the duke of Genoa, who on the arrival of a nunzio goes half way down the stairs to meet him, and on his departure goes even a little farther.”! Appendix E—p. 107. Mountgarrett dying, 1651, was excepted, although dead, ■■by Cromwell from pardon for life and estate. He was in¬ terred in the cathedral of St. Canice, and was succeeded by his son Edmond, fourth viscount, about whom the Franciscan archives furnish the following particulars. The lady who figures in this strange narrative was a daughter of the ancient Catholic house of Gage, of Fule, Sussex. * After escaping from Galway in 1653, Preston was invited into the French service and sent hy them into Catalonia, where he drew over many of the Irish from the Spanish service; but died not long after at Paris. f “ Perperam fuit relatio modi quo Dtio. vra recepta fuerat, et tametsi posset concilii proeses esse aliquanto liberalior in muniis humanitatis ; consultius tamen estimatum est super ea re non controvertere. Patris Lucae erit per Hteras monere, velut proprio motu, et persuadere recep- tiones fuisse celehrandas juxta illas Ducis Reipublicae Gentiensis, qui nunciis usque ad scalae medium ohviam procedit, et ahscedentes ulterius comitatur.” MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 357 “ To Father Wadding, S. Isidoro, Rome. Very Hev. Father —You shall find in the annexed paper ye case of a principal nobleman of our country, ye viscount^ of Montgarret’s eldest sonne. This young gentleman finding himself much obliged to a gentleman of the Gages in Eng anc, would, in testification of his kinde thankfulness, be contented to take his daughter for his wife, if yt they agreed uppon the portion of dowry which ye father ought to give. And though ye young gentleman made often instance to ye parents and daughter, yet never would they speake fully to his content¬ ment ; nor he never minded to go through without a competent portion; in sort yt the young gentleman for a time desisted from his pursuit. Afterward, finding the wench alone, never hoping yt after so many former refusals she would on a sudden be contented to take him as she was, they both presently tooke hands, and Mr. Butler uttered ye words of matrimony, and tauo-ht her to say them also, which she did, and were repeated by them more than once ; which I do therefore sett down as a signe of an absolute intention of marriadge when the words were uttered. This being done they parted asunder. Mr. Butler gave out that Mrs. Gage was his contracted wife by marriadge, which he did for to inspire ye parents to come of with the portion; which circumstance I do insert for a signe on ye other side, yt ye pronounced bonds of marriadge were not of an absolute intention of going through as then with ye contract, but with relation to ye agreement which, after the opinion spred by him of the concluded mache, should fall out; and being yt afterwards ye parents came not of as roundly as Mr. Butler expected they should, he broke of, and applied his thoughts another way, and is mached to ye earle of Castlnhaven s daughter, in facie Ecclesice, and has children by her. Now the youno" nobleman, when he is interrogated in conscience w lat e intended to do when he uttered ye words, whether he had an absolute intention or a conditional he knoweth not, for he called it an amared contract, and nobody can say anything o it u himself, for there was nobody by then. After when he is asked would he have uttered ye words, were it sayd to him at ye time yt he should have no other portion than what ye parents were content to give, he sayeth absolutely yt if that were representec^ to his thoughts he would never have taken her to his wite, which I do sett down to you to the end you be ye better hable to consider how doubtfull the case of his intention is being so, and that he must stand to ye second marriadge, which 358 APPENDIX TO THE was solemnly contracted before, it should be a good deed to propose a dispensation matrimonii rati for this gentleman and ye aforesaid Mrs. Gage, to the end yt ye gentleman rest quiet in conscience in his second marriadge, and yt the gentlewoman may dispose of herself to some other partie, which as yet, through scrupul, shee has not done. The dispensations of matrimoniorum ratuum be rare, I think, in these dayes, and especially in ntroque foro, though I think in sacra, pmnitentiaria they may be easily had. Be you pleased, good father, for to bestir yourself in it, and propose it in the best forme you may. If it may be granted in utroque foro, ye charges shal be defrayed, as Ossoriensis sayth, for it was he yt imployed me in it. “ Your loving cossen, “J. K. Tuknek. “Ye 7th Feb., 1630.’’ Father Turner, who seems to have been Wadding’s special correspondent, offers the subjoined participatory criticism of Keating’s History of Ireland, at which the latter was working in 1631 —“One father Keating laboreth much, as I hear say, in compiling Irish notes towards a history in Irish. Ye man is very studious, and yet I fear if his worke come ever to light, it will need an amendment of ill-warranted narrations. He could help you to many curiosities, of which you can make better use than himself. I have no interest in ye man, for I never saw him, for he dwelleth in Mounster.” The following documents in which Turner’s name occurs are too interesting to be omitted here :— “ Domine Gulielme Cod de Castletown dimaberis meliorem O tuam assistentiam pr^estare Patri Thomae Turner pastori paro- chiae S. Fintani, vulgo dictas de Came, Stae. Margaritae et B. Marias de Insula, cum assistentia Joannis Devereux de Sum- mertown, in parochia Stae. v Margarita^, ad demandandas et locandas magnas et parvas decimas et pecunias exinde debitas j)ro hoc praesenti, et ad nos pro usu catholici exercitus trans- mittere. Datum Wexfordiae, 9 Augusti, 1642. “ Gulielmus Devereux, Yic.-Gen.” “ Mr. William Cod of Castletown will be pleased to give his best assistance to father Thomas Turner, pastor of the parish of St. Fintan, commonly called Came, St. Margaret, and Our Lady of the Island, who, with the co-operation of John Devereux, of Summertown, in the parish of St. Margaret, will demand and allot the great and small tithes and other moneys 1 i- r- i MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 359 due this present year for use of the Catholic army. Said sums are to be forwarded to us. Wexford, 9 Aug. 1642. “William Devereux, Vic.-Gen.” “ Generosis dominis et plebeis parochiarum S. Fintani, S. Margarita 3 , et B. Marite de Insula. ' “Notum vobis facio hanc meam esse voluntatem ut ista ^ sedilia quae olim erecta fuerunt a D. Waller, pseudoministro, in cancel!arige ecclesise parochialis S. Fintani, vulgo dictae de Caine, a nemine alio occupentur nisi a patre Thoma Turner ejusdem, ^ ecclesiae et parochise pastore, quae ab ipso in meliorem usuui ■ convertantur, vizt ad confessionalia facienda, et in alios dictae f ecclesice pios usus. Wexfordae, 18 Nov. 1642. ! “ Gulielm. Devereux, Yic.-Gen.” 1 f “ To the gentry and people of the parishes of St. Fintan, L' St. Margaret, and Our Lady of the Island. I, “ I hereby make known to you that the seats which were ! formerly erected by Mr. W^aller, pseudo-minister, in the chancel ' of the parochial church of St. Fintan, commonly called de Came, shall be seized by none other than father Thomas Turner, pastor I of said church and parish, who will convert same to better use, I* namely, confessionals and other pious requirements of said church. . rN 4 - “ W. Devereux, Yic.-Gen.* “Wexford, 18 Nov., 1642.” I Appendix E—p. 125. The miserable condition of the Irish Catholics at this peiiod I was much the same as when O’Kearney, Dr. W^alshs piede- i cessor, sent the following details (which we translate from the ! original Latin), to Cardinal Barberini, in March, 1612. “We are sadly exposed to the most imminent dangers, for oui advei- saries are constantly pursuing us. Those of oui own * province as well as those who present themselves to us for oidi- .■ nation, we generally receive in some suitable place, where we it erect portable altars, taking good care not to trust ourselves to any but those in whom we have greatest confidence- to-day in j one town and to-morrow in another. Y^hen the ceremony (of I ’ ordination) is concluded, we lose no time in shifting to some . other locality, in order to avoid risk, having first appointed trusty parties to remove the portable altars, and warned the ij ordained not to mention to any one the place where they ' I ii ♦ Arckiv. St. Francis, Dublin. 1 360 APPENDIX TO THE received holy orders, lest the master of the house might be brought to trouble. Our greatest difficulty, however, is the sacrament of confirmation ; for, no sooner is it known that we are about to confer it than crowds of children, big and little, come from all the neighbouring districts. . . . On one day, i.e., between sunrise and sunset, we confirmed 2,200 in the neighbourhood of a forest, and at nightfall in the villages. This precaution is the more necessary on account of the concourse, and the greater danger. Troops of horse and foot, whose business is to hunt out thieves, are now sent in pursuit of priests, with power to hang them from the nearest tree, without formality of trial. The Catholic churches are handed over to Protestants, and the mayors of the various towns are deposed because they refuse to take the oath of supremacy, or attend Protestant worship. They likewise take special note of those who suffer their children to be baptized or married according to the Catholic ritual, and they persecute unrelentingly all harbourers of priests. As for schoolmasters who train children in Catholic doctrines, they are cruelly set upon and hunted down.” Appendix F—p. 129. There are various accounts of the slaughter at Cashel. The nunzio himself, in a latter dated Galway, 29th September, 1647, a short time after the event, states that the loss on both sides was equal. Another contemporary asserts, that the Con¬ federate loss in killed was 300, and that of Inchiquin 600. The nunzio, however, may have fallen into an error on this subject as he did when stating that Colkitto was killed in the battle of Dungan Hill. The Piniiccini papers supply the subjoined narrative of the massacre, written, it is supposed, by a Jesuit who was in Cashel at the time. We give it without any comment. “ Massacre in Cashel. “Lord Inchiquin wishing to make himself master of the entire - province of Munster, after he had learnt that Taaffe with his 500 horse had retired from Cashel, and that part of the garrison with many of the townsfolk and their friends had taken refuge with their chattels on St. Patrick’s rock, marched at once from Cahir which he had just seized. Having escaladed the city walls without opposition, Inchiquin’s army was hospitably enter¬ tained that very night by the inhabitants, who suffered them to MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHlt. 361 sleep unmolested. Next day—the vigil of the feast of the exaltation of the holy cross—Inchiqum .assisted by traitors whom we had in our midst, reconnoitred the rock, and m t e course of an hour made himself thoroughly acquainted with its strong and weak points. Little did we think that ation was to follow so rapidly on tidumph !-Having made the reconnaissance Inchiquin divided his troops into three corps to act against the three weak faces of the rock. He then sent a trumpeter who summoned our men to surrender on the tollow- ing conditions The garrison to march out with all honours of bal-en-bouclie—and the citizens and clergy to submit themselves to his lordship’s clemency! And here we may pause to admire the valour of our troops who having sworn to defend the people and priests, resolved to sacrifice their lives on that rock of St. Patrick rather than yield the holy place to puritan dogs. This bold reply enraged Inchiquin. At a signal given, a brand fell (some say ae- cidently) into the piazza where stood the convent ot the Friars Minors which was instantly reduced to ashes. The three divisions then made a simultaneous assault, never halting iin i they got up to the wall, and were thus sheltered from the fire of oui^men who, owing to the height of the tower in which they were posted, could not take fair aim at the enemy. ur ci izens and soldiers carried on the fight, not with muskets but with stones ; mounting the walls they hurled down the pursuing enemy until overborne by numbers—the puritans pouring in through a door in the north face of the rock—(and this indeed was the chief cause of our defeat) they were forced to retreat into the precincts of the cathedral. ,, , i i Hardly had ours retired when they were suddenly surrounded by large detachments of Inchiquin’s, and in the very cemetery the conflict was carried on with fluctuating success on both sides. Such of ours as remained outside where massacred; but tne spot where the Puritans achieved most signal success was in the very body of the holy place. Its two great gates—one looking south and the other west—were attacked with incredible ferocity ; but ours valiantly repulsed the assailants, who made their way into the church through the windows Now ours were attacked in the rere, but they maintained a stubborn struggle : and such were the outbursts of fury and the running hither and thither, that nothing could be heard but the bicker- iim of swords. The fight in the church lasted about an hour, with equal bravery on both sides, but not on equal conditions Inchiquin’s men polluting that most sacred citadel—I will not 362 APPENDIX TO THE say of all Munster, but of all Ireland, with unheard of sacrilege, ours crimsoning it with the blood which they had devoted to God and his church. But as the combat waxed fiercer, and ours, reduced in numbers, began to give way, some betook them to the bell-tower, up the stairs of which the enemy followed them. Here they were again summoned to surrender, and seeing that they had no food or drink, and that superior numbers must eventually destroy them, they yielded after having made terms for life. But the enemy kept not faith with us, for after our swords had been flung down in heaps, the Puritan officers gave orders that our people should be killed on the spot. Then there was a sudden onfall, many of ours being put to the sword some of the wealthier made prisoners, and others escaping to the vaults of the church; but, except a few, all were haled out and either slain or made prisoners. The mayor and pastor of the city, and the mayor’s son, concealed themselves 'in a secret and strong cham¬ ber of the church, nor were they removed thence until they had stipulated for their lives. And such was the termination of this massacre, of this most unparalleled and abominable sacrilege in which 812 Catholics were slain, and at least 500 of the lord Inchiquin’s, among whom were sixteen disgraced by that tail which was grafted on a certain family in England as a punishment for their implication in the murder of St, Thomas of Canterbury, Of ecclesiastics, three secular priests, the prior of the Dominicans, two Franciscans, and one Jesuit fell bravely and edifyingly for their holy religion. Old men whose only weapon was the rosary were slain before the altars along with children and women ; for Inchiquin’s soldiers had no regard for sex or age. Women whom the sword spared were sent away in a state of nudity, and some of them in this condition influenced by modesty preferred staying in the recesses of the cathedral and veiling nakedness with their blood rather than go abroad in open day. But what more horrible than this j^rofanation of sacred things !—the thought of it revolts me, and my pen can hardly convey a faint idea of its wickedness, •^Mn a word, when the enemy got the upper hand they set about destroying every sacred object in the church, pillaging^ the altars, mutilating the holy images, nay, flinging them into the flames, and breaking the head and hands of the great crucifix which stood above the door of the choir. The organs, were shattered to fragments, and even the great bells whose pealing excited ours during the conflict and frightened the enemy shared the same fate. Polluted hands left nothing un- MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 36 ^ desecrated, and even the bells, as it were struck dumb, tolled not for their departed, the profound silence that prevaded all things, testifying inefiable grief. . “ Turning then to rapine they seized the chattels with which the townspeople had filled the church, digged up the floor ot the holy place, and the marble monuments, in the hope ot getting booty Then in order to persuade the world that very tew ot their soldiers had fallen—at most six or seven—they stripped them of their clothes and carried them into the cathedral and cemetery where they might not be distinguished from our killed. But so full was the church of corpses, which remained there some days unburied, and so strewn with same were the altars chapels, sacristy, bell-tower, stairs, and benches that we could not move an inch without treading on them. Nothing more miserable than this spectacle, and none more deserving praise than they whose love for the beauty of our church on holidays and Sundays had the sacred ceremonial carried out in all its splendour. Calling to mind the costly restoration ot the altars, and of every department of the^ sacred buildings, who, after beholding that awful destruction, could retrain from tears^ i i ^ +-u “ But this cruelty and sacrilege did not end here, tor yuey carried on both even in cold blood ; and when they had either sold all the chattels of the citizens—their furniture and sacred vessels (I speak not of what they carried away) to the multi¬ tudes tLt came as to a fair, they either destroyed whateYer obiects they could not sell, or flung them into the manure-heaps. Some of those ruffians, with square caps on their heads and wearing the.consecrated vestments strutted about, and y way of fun, invited the spectators to Mass. They pierced the sacred pictures, nay, struck the head ofi* the large ric y gi statue of the Immaculate Conception, and carried it in mock procession through the streets. The other images ot St. BatricR, Ignatius, etc., etc. (which they called deaf and dumb), and wine had been bought at great cost, they either placed under their saddles, or made into bags for parcels. There was there too, a small statue of the B. Y., which they jeered after this fashionWhere are you Mary 1 Mary won t you eat pease. One of them, however, paid dearly for this; for when tearing an iron stanchion out of the window of a_ house, a stone tell and clove his brain 1 Inchiquin himself did not shrink from placing the archiepiscopal mitre on his head, shouting ou a he was president of Munster, mayor and archbishop ot Cashel. Not content with destroying the property of the citizens and 364 APPENDIX TO THE their sacred utensils, they next directed their fury against the houses dedicated to God, and were about to fire them till some wealthy magnates arranged that the city should pay a heavy sum by instalments. Thus was the ancient city of Cashel, so renowned for its succession of kings and archbishops saved from being utterly razed. Alas, that city which from the moment it received the light of the faith never allowed it to be obscured—that city, I repeat, suffered such eclipse that, for a time, it lacked priest and sacred rite. That city ennobled by the blood of its inhabitants shed for religion, so sentinelled by holy guardians, beheld in its midst the Puritan destroyer. That city so celebrated for its pious communities, so remarkable for the devotion of its people, in one hour, as though it were an exception to all the other towns in Ireland, expiated the crimes of the entire island ! And lo, heaven looked on all this and has not avenged the blood of its saints ! What ! are we to think that the confidence of the citizens in their patron was misplaced 1 But let us not weary heaven with our presump¬ tuous curiosity—let us rather placate divine anger and beseech pardon ; and let us hope that Cashel instead of be¬ coming a word of reproach among the nations may acquire a greater weight of glory from orthodox princes, who will esteem her more for her sufferings for the faith, than for her secular triumphs. With reason she may bewail her dear ones slain, but at same time may rejoice when she reflects that they have been translated to heaven, and enrolled among the martyrs. Nor is this a mere conjecture, for some nights pre¬ ceding the massacre, when we were among the soldiers of the garrison exhorting them to avoid oaths and military insolence, so docile did they prove themselves, and so ready to sacrifice their lives for religion, that we persuaded ourselves that God had prepared them for a blessed death. And, indeed, before going into action, most of them confessed their sins at least once, and then partook of the holy viaticum.” [Inchiquin asserted that the moment he entered the cathedral the massacre ceased at his command, and that he* assaulted Cashel simply because the citizens did not keep faith with him in the matter of the money for which he had stipulated. He died a Catholic, and bequeathed money to the Franciscans of Ennis, to offer Masses for his soul’s repose. As for the cathe¬ dral, Price, the heretic archbishop, unroofed it in 1680, doing it more lasting injury than it encountered from Inchiquin’s troops. J* * See original Latin at end of the volume. memoirs of the IRISH HIERARCHY. 365 Appendix G—p. 129. Walsh’s predecessor, archbishop O’Kearney, who died on the 14th of August, 1624, in the Cistercian monastery of Carbon- blanc, near Bordeaux, bequeathed the Jesuits a considerable sum for the same purpose. A few items of the archbishop s will may be mentioned here. To Paul then superior of the aforesaid monastery (Carbon-blanc), he left ^£100^ i^i maintenance of same house. To the Jesuits of Cashel his rich missals and breviaries. To his successor in the archiepiscopa see a gold ring set in emeralds, presented to him by pope Paul V • to the same a pectoral cross, of great price, given him by a princess of the imperial house of Austria.” _ The ring may probably have come into Dr. Walsh’s possession, but ^agge had to sell the cross in order to raise the £100 bequeathed to the monastery. Dr. O’Kearney died and was buried there. Rao-o-et also found a grave within the same precincts. Appendix H—p. 132. Ross Mageoghegan (in religion Rochusde Crime) a Dominican friar, who was consecrated bishop of Kildare, A.D. 16^8, i commends John De Burgh to the holy see, thus . ^ ,, Cum in provincia Connacioe (quae vastissima est et Catlio- licis plena), tanta sit penuria episcoporum nt intra illam modo non reperiatur nisi iiniis tantum, qui spiritualibus Catholicorum necessitatibus per se solum subvenire non possit et prmdicta diocesis Cluanfertensis (quse est nativa prmfati Joannis, et m qua de nationis ejusdem sacerdotibus niillus eo dignior reperiri posse videtur) modo vacet : convenire videtur turn ad regimen ipsius ecclesise, turn etiam ad consolationem catholicorum ejus¬ dem ut prsenominatus Johannes episcopali digmtate in prmtata siia Cluanfertensi ecclesia decoretur. In quorum fideni ns manu propria subscripsimus, et sigillum nostrum a&gi cura- “Datis Lovanii in Collegio Joan. Bapt. die x. Octob. A.D. 1629. ^ ‘'Pr. Rochus de Cruce, “ Episcopus Kildarensis.” “ Whereas, in the province of Connaught (which is very ex¬ tensive and full of Catholics), there is just now only one bishop who unassisted cannot minister to the spiritual ^ the faithful; and, whereas the diocese of Clonfert, at^ present vacant, is the native place of said John—a worthier priest than 366 APPENDIX TO THE whom there is not in that country—it seems to us that for the government of that Church and consolation of its people the foresaid John ought to be elevated to the episcopal dignity in the see of Clonfert. “ Subscribed and sealed with our seal, in the college of St. John Baptist, Louvain, Octob. x. A.D. 1629. “ Fr. Rochus de Cruce, “ Episcopus Kildar.”* Appendix I—p. 137. The relics of St. Jarlath were discovered in 1609, in a five¬ sided copper case which was buried under the pavement of the cathedral. Daniel, Protestant archbishop of Tuam, presented this precious object to Dr. Kirwan, subsequently bishop of Killala. A statuette of the B. V. M., was given by John, archbishop of Tuam, to Malachy O’Conor, of Galway, then living in barony of Dunmore. The deed bearing the archbishop’s signature and a portion of the relics of St. Jarlath, are now carefully preserved. The deed, engrossed on parchment and very illegible, runs thus :— “Joannes de Burgo, sedis aplicse gratia, Archiep. Tuamensis et provincise Connacise metropolitanus, dilecto nobis in xto. Malachise O’Connor, Galviensi, nunc moranti in baronia de Dunmore, salutem.custodem et corbanum imaginis, Dominse nostrse SSmae. Yirginis Marije nostris expensis acqui- sitse pro ecclesia Stae. Mariae Tuamensis, et reliquiarum Sti. Jarlathi ecclesiae et dioc. Tuamensis patronis,” etc., etc. Appendix J—p. 138. O’Cullinan, bishop of Raphoe, passed many years of his life with the archbishop of Tuam, till both were obliged to leave Ireland. O’Cullinan had six brothers priests, one of whom— abbot of Boyle—was executed in the reign of Elizabeth. The bishop was educated in Rheims, and consecrated 1626. The year following, O’Donel, earl of Tyrconnel, implored Cardinal Ludovisi to promote him from Raphoe to the primacy of all Ireland, but that pre-eminent dignity was bestowed on Hugh O’Reilly. * He died, 1642, and was buried in Multifernan. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 367 Father OTarrell, one of the principal editors of the lUnuccini PapBTS, wrote from Rome to O Cullman, then an exile in Brussels, asking him for an account of his prison life while in the hands of the Scotch Covenanters. The bishop complied, but the sketch of his adventures is very meagre. He tells us that he had to endure every sort of hardship, and that his life was saved by a captain A^kin, who beat up the musket which a drunken soldier was about to discharge at him. A.ftei seeing fifty of his fellow-prisoners killed in cold blood, he spent four years in the Jail of Londonderry, and was ransomed soon after the battle of Benburb.* O’Cullinan’s last days were closed in the convent of the Regular Canons of St. A-Ustin, Biiissels, March 24, 1661. He had honourable sepulture in the chapel of the B. V.M., in the cathedral of St. Gudull. Appendix K—p. 139. In a letter to Cardinal Panzirolo, dated 29th August, 1647, the nunzio states that Alaster MacDonnell, better known as Colkitto, was killed at the battle of Hungan Hill, fought August 8th of same year ; and strange, to say, he, or somebody for him, again records the chieftain’s death in November (1647), a few days after it did really occur. Colkitto, the friend of Montrose, and the devoted henchman of the nunko, was second in command under Lord TaafFe, who had 6,000 foot and 1,100 horse, against 500 foot and 1,300 horse under Inchiquin. Lord Castleconnell fled from the field, and thus precipitated the defeat of the Confederates at Cnoc-na-noss. After killing four of Inchiquin’s men with his own hand Colkitto was^ made prisoner and basely assassinated after quarter given. On the day of the action Inchiquin sent the following cartel to Taafie, who was an incompetent braggart. a Lord, —There is a very fair piece of ground betwixt your lordship’s army and ours on this side the brook, whither if yon please to advance, we will do the like. We do not so much doubt the gallantry of your resolution, as to doubt you will not come ; but do give you this notice to the end you may see we do stand upon no advantage of ground, and are willing to * “Donee supremo numine aspirante, Euyenius O’Neill Benburbise victoriam reportasset, inter quam multos proceres, et ohiharchas cepit, quorum nonnullos mecum commutavit .”—Einuccini Papers. 368 APPENDIX TO THE dispute our quarrel upon indifferent terms, being confident that the justness of our cause will be this day made manifest by the Lord, and that your lordship’s judgment will be rectified concerning your lordship’s servant, “ Inchiquin. GarryduIf, Nov. 13, 1647.” The Confederate loss in this action was 1500 men with all their material, while that of Inchiquin was comparatively trifling. In his bulletin to Lenthal, speaker of the House of Commons, Inchiquin says that “ none truly fought but the regiments commanded by Alexander MacDonnell, the rest hav¬ ing fled to Liscarroll and Newmarket .”—Irish Tracts, B.D.S. Appendix L—p. 140. The Nunzio’s departure from Kilkenny contrasts painfidly with his first* entrance into that city. He left in the early morning unobserved, when few were abroad, and when no one, perhaps, thought that he was about to make his final exit. Crossing the garden wall, which it would appear, was also that of the city, he descended near an unfrequented gate where the bearers of his litter were waiting for him, and surely this incident must have brought to his mind Paul’s escape from Damascus ! Accompanied by the bishop of Clogher, he hastened with a few of his retinue to Maryboro’ where Owen Poe was encamped. There he remained over fourteen days, and then prosecuted his journey westward with that faithful Terence Coghlan whom he esteemed so much. Their route lay along the bank of the Shannon, their destination being Galway; and as they travelled all day and far into the night, the Irish servitors whiled the time by taking auguries from the polar lights, so novel to the Italian, and so peculiar, as he himself remarks, to northern climates. The auspices, indeed, were favourable or unfavourable as the fears and hopes of the observers inclined them ; but the divination, if it deserve the name, was harmless, and the nunzio tells that the Irish were familiar with it from childhood. After halting some time with Owen Poe in Athlone castle, of which that general had recently * On his return in Novemher, 1647, from Portumna where he was splendidly entertained by Lord Clanricarde he was met at the gate of Kilkenny by fifty horsemen, and the French and iSpanish envoys to the Confederates. The secular and regular clergy accompanied him proces- sionally to bt. Canice’s where they congratulated him on his arrival. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 369 got possession, lie set out for Galway wliitlier the S. Pietro was to come from Duncannoii to hear him away from a country in which, he says the snn is rarely seen —dove mai non si vede il /Sole.” An intimation from Ormond that he should not remain in Ireland hastened his departure, and he sailed for Normardy, where he arrived safely. After conferring with Longueville and Conde, leaders disaffected to the government and deeply involved in the troubles of the Fronde, he pro¬ ceeded to Pome. There he might, had he so willed it, have had a place of great importance in the court of the Vatican, as the reward of valuable services ; but, like a true shepherd, he preferred to live among his flock, and he accordingly re¬ turned to Fermo where he died in 1653. He caused a series of frescoes, representing the most memorable events associated with his sojourn in Ireland, to be painted on the walls of his 2 )alace, but his successor with execrably bad taste had them all covered with a coat of whitewash. Thus were destroyed jjictures which would have brought many an Irish pilgrim to Fermo; for to us they would have been far more interesting and a 2 ) 2 >reciable than the Bayeux taj^estries. Ajiiiendix M—j:*. 142. June 18, 1648, John of Tnam wrote to Cornelius O’Hurly, a distinguished ecclesiastic who graduated in the University of Bordeaux, and was a]3j)ointed rector of. Athenry—“Ne ullas ejusmodi censuras admittant, nec eisdem fidem habeant donee earum fundamenta et rationes discusserimus, easque apjiroba- verimus. “Joannes Team, electus.” —Minuccini Papers. ApjDendix H—p. 142. Massari, dean of Fermo and secretary to Pinuccini, comjDiled the history of the ISTunziatura, and in this work was assisted by two Irish priests. Father Pichard O’Farrell and another whose name does not ajDpear. O’Farrell was in all ^R'obability a Franciscan. The title of the work is “De Haeresis Anglicanae Intrusione et Progressn, et de Bello Catholico Ad., an. 1641 incei:)to, exindeque jier aliquot annos gesto, Commentarius.” There are but two copies of this great work in the United Kingdom, one belonging to the actual learned bishojD of Ossory, and the other to lord Leicester, Holkam. Massari died in 370 APPENDIX TO THE Appendix O—p. 145. Nicholas French, bishop of Ferns, author of the Bleeding Iphigenia,” Sale and Settlement of Ireland,” etc., etc., having escaped to France in 1649, addressed the subjoined letter to John of Tuam, prisoner in Galway :— ‘‘ llline. Prsesul. ‘^Ut in Judea nihil sanctius, aut sublimius fuit J. Bapta. eremi incola vinculis scelerate constricto, ob adulterium nimis abominandum scortorum principem generose ab eo reprehensum, ita nullum in terra Hibernias pulchrius spectaculum videri potest te principe Ecclesiae, et coiifessore probatissimo, ac reve- rendissimo, tecum antistite Alladensi octogenario, cum viginti sex sacerdotibus, et religiosis, pietate, atque eruditione floren- tibus, ob fidem Catholicam in uno carcere inique conclusis, et Deo sancte famulantibus. Crimen Baptistae e deserto sublati, morte igniminiosa afFecti, non ,aliud erat quam liajc verba, ‘ non licet tibi Herodes habere uxorem fratris tui;’ et tu quid deliquisti, ut e solitudine ubi Deo tuo vacabas, in carcerem conjicereris'? Veritatem in conspectu hominum ingenue con- fessus, dixisti, ‘ Yiri hoeretici, non licet vobis Ecclesiam Xti. sponsam contaminare. ’ Age, faniule Dei, et intrepide defende Bomanani veritatem, ac pietatem, tui sanguinis, si opus fuerit, profluvio. Ausculta Psalniistam non inaniter ovantem, ‘Loque- bar de testimoniis tiiis in conspectu regum, et non confundebar non potes tu confundi aut tristari quoniam divina gratia (quam sonat Joannes, nomen tuum) tecum est in carcere, et eo nomine sub te sunt cuncta corrupta3 naturce ludibria, vicissitudines, et fabulaB. Vide, mi Frater, quam benigno, ac Iseto vultu heroica virtus in carcerem, tanquam pallatium te invitat, non ut in eo tormenta expellescas, agas serviliter, sed ut tui juris sis, et liber, ab omni timore ac violentia. Nam quidpiam formidare indignum est tua causa. Captivitatem luges '? Merito lugeres, nisi in carcere Deum tuum reperires. Sed times exilium in in¬ sulas longinquas quas Barbadoes vocant'? Etiam Deum in exilio invenies. Possunt quidem homines illi, in quorum potestate constitutus es, te sepai’are a patria tua ; non possunt a Dei tui caritate. Sed auferuntur tibi dapes, delicias, pretiosa vina, esculenta ; sed audi Paulum jiredicantem, non est regnum Dei esca aut potus, et cape anathema ab eo prolatum, esca ventri, et venter escis; Dens auiem et hanc et has destruet. Ergo salubriter stude gratiis stabilire cor tuum, non escis, non enim MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 371 potest fames aliter tibi nocere quam macerando carnem tuam, vel necando. Si macerabit, faciet ut caro tua serviat anima! tuae, et anima tua Deo tiio. An non hoc beneficiimi magnum homini Christiano? Si necabit, auferet te malis liujus mundi. Quid inde niali, cum tibi necessario moriendum sit Non tu igitur, mea opinione, in eo statu es, ut invidere debeas delicatis hujus mundi filiis, qui bibentes in phialis aureis, et optimo unguento delibuti, nihil compatiuntur super contritione Joseph, Verum pingues illi non sunt in hoc mundo omnino impnnes, dum caro illorum timet vermes, et anima ignes. Ideo squallente carcere tuo tutius est in coelum iter, quam ex eburneis eorum pallatiis. Si non scribo verum falsus est Hieronj^mus asserens “ per delicias, non ire ad delicias.” Cum ita sit, audiatur non iletus, sed vox exultationis, et salutis in tabernaculis justonim, qualia sunt carceres, in quibus tu cum sociis tins in patientia diem bonum expectatis. Perge igitur, Gedeon fortissimo, contra profanos Madionitas cum tuis comilitonibus. Yincetis baud dubie hostem divinse veritatis tubis, lagenis, et lampadi- bus vestris. Tuba) enim sunt ferventissimce orationes, quas ad Deum quotidie funditis : lagenje, corpora vestra, non vino quod apostatare facit, fumantia, sed fame, et jejuniis soluta. Lampades, ardens caritas, et desiderium moriendi pro nomine Domini Jesu. An demon, tenebrju, lunresis resistere poterunt hominibus ita armatis et pugnantibus ? O me infelicem in mortuo mare exilii mei languidum, et putrescentem ! Dtinam vobiscum essem inprobationis procella agitatis. O vos vere fdices qui, vocante domino, de pelago ad littus, de exilio ad patriam, de carcere ad pallatium transitis. Animum tibi, et omnibus tecum persecutionem propter Christum patientibus, faustum, et jubilarem precor, et do strenam, nempe sanctissimum nomen Jesu : de quo scriptum est ‘ oleum efFusum nomen tuum.’ Hoc oleo pretiosissimo unguatur, et roboretur uniuscuj usque ves- triim cor in laboribus et tentationibus. Commendo me miserum peccatorem sanctis vestris omnium precibus, et deosculor cum amore et humilitate sacratas in carcere manus. “ Illustrissima) Dominationis tuse, “Nicolaus, Episc. Fernensis. “ Nannetis, 30 Januarii, 1654. “ Tllustrissimo et Kevmo, Domino, “ Joanni de Burgo Archpo. Tuamensi.” APPENDIX TO THE 372 “ Most Illustkious Prelate, —Jewry presents not a sul)- limer or holier spectacle than that of John Baptist, the dweller in the wilderness, chained and cast into prison for havin<>* boldly accused Herod of adultery. Nor does Ireland exhibit a fairer sight than yourself, a prince of the Church, and well- tried confessor, along with the octogenarian bishop of Killala and twenty-six priests and religious, renowned for piety and learning, unjustly committed to the same jail for religion’s sake, and communing with God. The crime of the Baptist, haled from the desert, and done to death ignominiously, were the words : ‘ It is not lawful for thee, Herod, to have thy brother’s wife ;’ and you, what have you done that you should be interrupted in the exercise of your holy office and flung into prison 1 You have pronounced truth before mankind, saying : ‘ Heretics, it is not allowed you to contaminate the Church, Christ’s Spouse.’ Be of good cheer, servant of God, and intrepidly defend Homan truth and piety, even with your blood, if necessary. Hearken to the Psalmist, not vainly glorying : ‘ I published thy testimonies in the face of kings, and was not confounded.’ You cannot be confounded or depressed, for the divine grace (the equivalent of your name John) is with you in the jail, and by virtue of that name, the wiles of corrupt nature, tribulations, and lies are beneaih your feet. See, dear brother, how heroic virtue, with benign and joyous aspect, invites you to the prison as though it were a palace, where no coward fear may turn you pale or debase you, but rather where you can be your own lord, free from fear and violence. It would unbecome you to shrink from suffering. But do you lament your captivity? With reason might you do so, if you could not find your God in your prison. Do you dread deportation to Barbadoes ? even there you will find God. Those men into whose power you have fallen can trans¬ port you from your country, but they cannot break the link of charity that welds you to God. But your table, dainties, precious wines, and viands, have been taken from you. Well, listen to Paul: ‘ The kingdom of God is not meat or drink.’ Then, again : ^ Meat for the belly, and the belly for meat, but God will destroy both.’ Therefore study to nerve your heart with grace, not food, since hunger can do little else than waste your body, or ])erhaps de'sti-oy it. If you are mortified, your flesh shall be subjected to your spirit, and that will be resigned to God. Is it not a great blessing for a Christian man that self-denial emancipates him from this world’s sorrow ? What hardship, therefore, need you deem any sort of tribulation, MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 373 when yon reflect that yon mnst die % To my thinking, then, yon have no reason to envy the sensnons children of this world, who, drinking out of gold cups, and feasting on snccnlent meats, have no sympathy with poor Joseph. Withal the lusty ones of this life are not wholly exempt from trouble, for their flesh dreads the worms, and their sonls the fire. Therefore yonr squalid cell may be a better starting point for heaven than a palace of ivory conld be. If I write nntrnths, Jerome has erred in stating—' The road to heaven’s delights is not that which leads thro this world’s pleasures.’ Therefore, instead of lamentation, let rejoicing be heard in the tents of the just_ the prison where you and your companions await the happy day. Struggle with your fellow-soldiers, then, brave Gideon, against the profane Madianites. Doubtless, you will conquer the enemy of divine truth wuth your trumpets, phials, and lamps. The trumpets are the energetic prayers which you ofier to God daily ] the phials your bodies, not reeking with wine, which causes apostasy, but broken by hunger and fast¬ ings. The lamps symbolize charity, and a heart-sprung longing to die for the name of the Lord Jesus. Could devil, darkness, or heresy withstand men armed thus and fighting thus ^ Alas for me, most wretched in this dead sea of my exile, where I wax faint and fall to pieces ! Oh ! that I were with you, a sharer of the storm which buflets you. Happy, indeed, are ye who hear the Lord hailing you from the deep to the shore, from exile to your country, from a prison to the palace. May every blessing be with you and all those sufiering persecution for sake of Christ. I send you a new year’s offering—the holy name of J esus, of which it is written, ‘ Thy name is oil poured out.’ May each of you be anointed with that most precious oil, and may the heart of each of you be braced against trials and temptations. I commit myself, miserable sinner, to your prayers, and lovingly kiss your consecrated hands in bonds. “ Your lordship’s, “Nicholas, Bishop of Ferns. “ Nantes, 30th Jan., 1654.” Endorsed: “ Illmo. et Bevmo. D. Joanni de Burgo, Archiepisco Tuamensi.” Appendix P—p. 149. It has been asserted that two Catholic archbishops governed the see of Dublin immediately after Curwen’s apostasy ; but as 374 APPENDIX TO THE we liave no certain data of tlieir consecration or appointment, we adopt the learned de Burgo’s statement, that Oviedo was the first archbishop after the Englishman’s defection. The Tabulae Bomanae mention one Andrew, archdeacon of Dublin, as successor to James ; but this is a palpable error, as there is no such name to be found in the list of archbishops of the period. Then again we hear of Donaldus as the predecessor to Oviedo. May not this also be a clerical error 1 Appendix Q—p. 149. Oviedo did not visit the diocese 'personally, but he appointed father Bernard Moriarty, a priest of the diocese of Ardagh, and archdeacon of Cloyne, his vicar-general, with poAvers to act in his absence. This Dr. JMoriarty, who graduated in Spain, and was singularly attached to the Franciscans of Multifernan, where he chiefly resided, was there arrested along with Bichard Brady, bishop of Kilmore, in 1601. After leaving the aged Ushop for dead, the soldiers who had charge of Dr. Moriarty were attacked by Walter Nugent, of the house of Delvin, and in the struggle that ensued the former was severely wounded, and carried to Dublin, where he died in prison about the be¬ ginning of October, 1601. His remains were interred in the cemetery of St. James’s church. Appendix B—p. 150. Archbishop MacMahon was interred near the fugitiA’e earls in S. Pietro Montorio, Borne, 1622. A^^pendix S—p. 153. Barnaby-Bich who witnessed O’Devany’s execution describes the conduct of the people thus :— “ On the 28th of January, the bishop and priest, being arraigned at the king’s bench, were each condemned of treason, and adjudged to be executed the Saturday following; which day being come, a priest or two of the pope’s brood, with holy water and other holy stuffs, were sent to sanctify the gallows Avhereon they were to die. About two o’clock, p.m., the trai¬ tors were delivered to the sheriffs of Dublin, who placed them in a small car, which was followed by a great multitude. As the car progressed, the spectators knelt down; but the bishop. MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 375 sitting still, like a block, would not vouchsafe them a word, or turn‘his head aside. The multitude, however, folloAving the car, made such a dole and lamentation after him, as the heavens themselves resounded the echoes of their outcries. Being come to the gallows, whither they were followed by troops of the citizens, men and women of all classes, most of the best being present, the latter kept up such a shrieking, such a howling, and such a hallooing, as if St. Patrick himself had been going to the gallows, they raised the whohuh with such a maine cry, as if the rebels had come to rifle the city. Being ready to mount the ladder, when he was pressed by some of the bystanders to speak, he repeated frequently ‘ Sine me qucBSO [permit me, I beseech you].’ The executioner had no sooner taken off the bishop’s head, but the townsmen of Dublin began to flock about him, some taking up the head with pitying aspect, accompanied with sobs and sighs; some kissed it with as religious an appetite as ever they kissed the Pax ; some cut away all the hair from the head, which they preserved for a relic ; some others were practisers to steal the head away, but the executioner gave notice to the sheriffs."^ “Now, when he began to quarter the body the women thronged about him, and happy was she that could get but her handkerchief dipped in the blood of the traitor; and the body being once dissevered in four quarters, they neither left finger nor toe, but they cut them off and carried them away ; and some others that could get no holy monuments that appertained to his person, with their knives they shaved off chipps from the hallowed gallows; neither would they omit the halter wherewith he was hanged, but it was rescued for holy uses. The same night, after the execution, a great crowd flocked about the gallows, and there spent the fore part of the night in heathenish howling, and performing many popish ceremonies; and, after midnight, being then Candlemas day in the morning, having their priests present in readiness, they had Mass after Mass, till daylight being come, they departed to their own houses. The bishop was invested by the pope; for those Balaamite idiots be fit instruments to spread the pope’s doctrine, especially in Ireland, where the poor people are so infested with this locust vermin of priests and friars, that they will sooner believe an ass that comes from Borne with a pope’s bull, than an angel from heaven that should be sent with the light of God’s Word.” * In 1611, Thomas Bishop was mayor of Dublin; the sheriffs were William Chalkwret and Eichard Wigget. APPENDIX TO THE 376 Appendix T—p. 157. Thomas, nephew of the archbishop, became a novice in St. Anthony’s in 1620, and, in 1629, petitioned the king, that his brother William might enjoy the dignity of baron of Slane. The king granted his prayer, and confirmed the dignity to William and the heirs male of his body, during the life of Thomas. Sir B. Burke, Ulster, says that this proceeding was unconstitutional and unprecedented. Appendix U—p. 158. Colgan’s noble work, Triadis Thaumaturgae,” was published in 1647, at the archbishop’s expense, as the author tells us in the dedication : ‘‘ Inter prsesentis belli calamitates, intQvprivatus necessitates D. V. a. suae diocesi exul non solum necessaria im- pensa, sed et monumenta subministravit. ” To this we may add, that when the first volume of Wadding’s Annales” ap¬ peared, the archbishop congratulated the learned Franciscan, and wrote to him that the work was well received by the Protestants. Father John Colgan, to whose works allusion has already been made, was born towards the commencement of the seven¬ teenth century, near Came, barony of Inishowen, county Donegal. He took the Franciscan habit in St Antony’s, Louvain, soon after the foundation of that house, where he became Jubilate Lecturer of Theology, and died 1658. Besides the “Acta SS. Hib.” and the “Triad. Thaumat.,” he wrote “ Tractatus de Vita, Patria, Scriptis Johannis Scoti Doctoris Sublimis,” a copy of which most rare work is now in the Dublin archives of St. Francis’s, together with some fragments in the learned author’s autograph. Another highly distinguished member of the same order, and contemporary of Colgan, was F. Patrick Fleming, of the noble house of Slane, author of “ Collectanea Sacra,” comprising acts and literary labours of St. Columbanus. Fleming^ was made guardian of the Irish Franciscan convent at Prague, 1631, and in same year was murdered, together with Mathew Hoar, near Beneschow, in Bohemia. The subjoined documents, in the handwriting of Colgan, cannot fail to interest the reader, who will regret that the memoir of Bose O’Dogherty, widow of Caffar O’Donel, and wife of Owen Roe O’Neill, was never completed. The illus¬ trious lady died in 1660, and was buried in the chapel of St. Antony’s, Louvain, near the grave of Bernard, son of the MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 377 great earl of Tyrone, assassinated in Brussels, 1617.* Colgan’s letter to father Wadding shows that the Jubilate Lecturer of Theology and most learned hagiologist was a patriot in the strictest meaning of that much-abused word. The original of the letter subscribed Rosa O’Docharty, is in Irish, and was addressed probably to father Hugh Burke, whom the supreme council of the Confederates sent to Belgium to collect moneys and munitions for the war. Mr. W. Hennessey has also translated this holograph. Dolan’s letter (autograph) is in the Franciscan archives, and the copy may prove useful to some future historian of the memorable 1642 :— Fragment of Memoir of Rose OMoherty. ‘‘ Quandoquidem juri divino et huniano consonum sit liquidae veritati perhibere testimonium; hinc ego infrascriptus fr.. Joannes Colganus, Ord. Min. Strict. Observ. S. T. Lector jubi- latus, fidem facio mihi partim ex oculari notitia, partini ex fide dignis testinioniis constare D. Bosam O’Doharty, non solum matronam esse summae et perantiquae nobilitatis, splendore virorumque principum connubiis longe illustrem; sed etiam innumeras pro fidei Catholicae negotiis passam esse jacturas. Mater enini ejus fuit Joannis Magni O’Neilli principis Tironiae filia : pater vero D. Joannes O’Docharty, regionis de Inis-eogain inclytus dynasta, qui post multa praeclare gesta in bello fidei mox memoranda, in laboribus ejusdem belli extinctus fuit : primus etiam ejusdem matronae maritus fuit Cathbarrus seu Cuthbertus Hugonis O’Donnelli excellentissimi princi|)is Tir- connalliae filius, vir raris virtutibus, multisque victoriis contra fidei Catholicae liostes partis longe inclytus. Ipse enim ejusque duo germani fratres Hugo Ptufius O’Donnellus, et Bodericus O’Donellus, Tirconalliae principes, et invictissimus ille Hugo Magnus O’Nellus, Tironiae princeps, atque proceres Catholici bellum quindecim annorum fidei Catholicae tuendae causa contra Elizabethan! Angliae reginam strenuissime, et cum multis prae- claris victoriis gesserunt. Et cum circa ejusdem belli finem cladem quamdam passi essent, praedictus Hugo O’Donnellus suppetiarum expetendarum causa in Hispaniam ad regeni Catliolicum se contulit, ubi post breve tempus decessit; reliqui vero praefati principes, acceptis prius conditionibus de servanda * Her tombstone, with its pathetic epitaph, is in the cloister of St. Antony’s, close hy the parlour in which the opening scene of this work is laid. 378 APPENDIX TO THE fidei libertate, pacem cum lioste composuernnt; quam cum postea sine rei Catliolicse jactiira servari non yiderent, seqne liostis viribiis impares esse adverterent; cum uxoribus, liberis, plnribusqne cognatis (inter qiios et btec matrona fnit) spe snp- petiariiin maxiine a snmnio pontifice, regeqiie Catholico obti- nendarnm, ad jiartes nltramarinas se conferentes, Homam vene- rnnt, nbi post non longum ternjms Kodericus princeps Tirconallned’—Coet. des. “ As it is but fair to bear testimony to the truth, I, the un¬ dersigned brother John Colgan, of the Friars Minor of Strict Observance, Jubilate Lecturer of Theology, certify, partly from personal acquaintance, and partly from evidence of individuals of undoubted veracity, that the Lady Rosa O’Doherty is a matron of the most ancient nobility, singularly distinguished for her marriages with two renowned princes, and still more so by reason of the vicissitudes she has undergone for the Catholic faith. Her mother was daughter of the great John O’Neill, prince of Tyrone ; and her father, John O’Doherty, the illustri¬ ous chieftain of Innishowen, who, after signal services during the war waged for the Catholic faith—to be related hereafter— succumbed to hardships. The first husband of this lady was Cathbar, son of the most excellent Hugh O’Donel, prince of Tyrconnel, a man renowned for many victories over the enemies of the faith. He and his two brothers, Hugh Rufus O’Donel and Rory O’Donel, princes of Tirconnel, and that most invin¬ cible Hugh, the great O’Neill, prince of Tirone, together with the Catholic nobility, carried on the fifteen years’ war against Elizabeth of England victoriously and unflinchingly for sake of the Catholic religion. Towards the close of that war, when the Irish encountered some reverses, the foresaid Hugh O’Donel sailed to Spain with a hope of getting reinforcements from the Ccrtholic king, and there died. The other princes, having stipu¬ lated for the free exercise of their religion, made peace with the enemy ; but perceiving that it could not be kept without compromise of conscience, and that they were outnumbered by their foes, they, with their wives, children, and numerous kins¬ folk (among whom was this matron), crossed the seas, thinking to obtain succour from the supreme pontiff and the Catholic king, and proceeded to Rome, where, after a brief interval, Rory, prince of Tirconnel,” etc., etc. Letter of Rose 0^Doherty. “ Most honored Father,— I received yours, for which I MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 379 am thankful. I am rejoiced at hearing that the camp-master'^, reached Ireland safely ; withal, your letter is so short that I merely collect from it that one fact. I beseech you to inform me of all that pertains to the war of Ulladh.t Pray, tell me who are alive, and who of our gentry are . dead. Let me know what is the state of Tyrconnell, and where the munitions were left; for it is not likely that he| went through that country if Saxons or Scots are in it. My son Henry and I desire to pro¬ ceed to Ireland if you could procure us a passage thither : we would require a month or six weeks to make arrangements before setting out. Doubtless you heard of the death of the earl of Tyrconnel. D. Eosa O’Docharty. “ From Louvain, 16 Sept., 1642.” Letter from Colgan to Wadding. “Rev. Pater —Jamsecundo vel tertio sul) initio tumultuum Patriae scripsi ad V. P. quae de iisdem offerebantur certiora nova. Eesponsum tamen vestrum interea nullum vidi. Nec tamen idcirco destiti P. M. abinde scribere; sed praecipue quod sciverim ab aliis, prccsertim a Patre Commissario De Burgo, indies eadeni patriae nova scripsi : Nunc quia non exis- tiino Patrem Hugonem esse Bruxellis vel ubi ]) 0 sset ad vos commode scribere, quae offeruntur certiora communico. Ac imprimis mitto constitutiones et ordinationes procerum regni de bello illo fidei, vel potius de regno tempore illius belli ad- ministrando: constitutiones sane pernecessarias, et meo judicio prudentissimas et utilissimas. Si enim serventur non ambigo bellum illud perdifficile,cui alias multumti menduin, judicaverim, facilem habiturum exitum. Sunt impressae primo Londini quod mireris; sed ideo ut excitetur populus contra regem quasi faventem conatibus Hibernorum. Sunt denuo impressae Lova- niae, latine redditae, omissis quibusdum apud externos minus bene sonantibus. Copiam mitto juxta utramque imjiressionem. Ceterum res patriae satis feliciter procedunt ut ex ipsis consti- tutionibus vel maxime colligi potest; omnes enim catholici regni proceres, exceptis paucis quorum heredes, vel proximi cognati detinentur captivi in Anglia, omnesque Catholicae civi- tates, et omnes nobiles Catholici sunt firmiter, uniti et statue- j Owen O’Neill ^ Maitre-de-camp. t Bister. 380 APPENDIX TO THE iTint mori pro fide ejusque liberis exercitiis De facto occupant omnes civitates, oppida castella, arces aliaque munita regiii loca exceptis Dublinio, Londonderria, Colerainia, et Cnock- fergus, alliisque quibusdam fortalitiis qiue jacent in manibufi liereticorum. Siepius rumor sparsus est de his occupatis. Cer- tum tanien est Dublinium non esse interceptum, vel etiani formaliter obsessum ante 20 Martii ut litterae inde a quodam inercatore Belga Antwerpiam scriptae testantur. Plurima alia circumferuntur noxa sed dubiae fidei ex niagna parte. Exer- citus Catholicorum ascendit 80 millia; sed laborant penuria armorum, pulveris, tormentarii, tormentorum et similium ap- paratuuin ad tale bellum necessariopum ; quae si in sufficientia adessent omnes existimant bellum illud brevi habiturum inten- tum ; quin et Angli plurimis litteris et gazettis de facto indi¬ cant esse desperandum de Hibernis reducendis nisi per viam con veil tionis et concordiae, Hibernis dubio procul metuendum. Omnia in Anglia sunt turbatissima propter differentias et dis- sensiones inter regem et parliamentum, prout gazettae quae vobis mittuntur testantur. Ad quae reliqua referenda remitto, et me vestris precibus liumiliter commendo. Vestrae Paternitatis addictissimns servus, “ Fr. Joannes Colgan. “ Lovaniae, liac secunda April, 1642.’’ “ Pev. Father, —Since the commencement of the Irish insurrection I have written to you twice or thrice the most reliable news I was able to gather anent that movement. In the interval I have had no reply from you. Nevertheless I have not ceased to acquaint you with all intelligence I could gather, especially from the commissary-general, father Burke; but as he is not now in Brussels, or in a place where he might conveniently correspond with you, I hereby forward wfiat you may regard as well authenticated news. And in the first place I send the constitutions framed by the Irish nobility for carry¬ ing on the war which has been undertaken for the faith, and for the government of the kingdom while the war lasts. In my opinion said laws are most judicious and useful. Should the people observe them, I have little doubt that the war, whose fortunate issue I hitherto had some reason to question, will eventuate successfully. The documents I send were first printed in London—a fact which may surprise you ; but that MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 381 was done to excite the people against the king as countenancing the Irish war. Another edition of the constitutions has been printed in Louvain, omitting, however, certain passages which might not sound well in the ears of foreigners. I send you copies of both impressions. Everything progresses admirably in Ireland, as you might see by the regulations themselves; for all the leading Catholics, with exception of a few whose heirs and kinsmen are prisoners in England, all the Catholic cities, and the entire body of the nobility, are fast united, and have resolved to die for the faith and its free exercise. In fact, they hold all the cities, towns, fortresses, except Dublin, London¬ derry, Coleraine, Carrickfergus, and some other strongholds which are in the hands of the heretics. It has often been rumoured that all the foresaid places have been taken by the Catholics ; but it is certain that Dublin remained untaken and unbesieged to the 20th March, as letters from a Belgian mer¬ chant who writes to Antwerp testify. There are many other rumours to which little credence can be given. The Irish Catholic army is 80,000 strong; but it wants powder, arms, cannon, and other requirements. Had the Irish a sufficiency of those things, they would, doubtless, succeed in a very short time. Even the English themselves despair of suppressing the insurrection except by convention or a peace, either of which the Irish have reason to dread. The newspapers I send will con¬ vince you that disorder reigns in England, on account of the misunderstanding between his majesty and the parliament, etc., etc. Humbly commending myself to your prayers, “ Your paternity’s most devoted servant. Brother John Colgan. “ Louvain, 2nd April, 1642.” About the time when the foregoing was written, the Francis¬ can community at Louvain issued the following circular, begging subscriptions for publication of the Acta SS., etc., etc.:— “ You may by these presents understand that we the poore Beligious of St. Francis his order att Louvyne, in the Colledge of St. Anthony, having maturely considered the distressed state of our native countrey, which, albeit in times past being rightly reputed and still named the Isle of Saintes, through ■382 APPENDIX TO THE the infinite mnltitncle of her most holy men, wherin she easily snrpasseth each other kingclome, yett was not’ soe happie as that any hitherto shoulcle bring to light her manifonld ancient ecclesiasticall monuments, to the no smale dishonour of the whole nation, and discomfort of deAmute soules. This Ave say, having with pitie considered, did undergoe the interprise those many yeares past, to gather from all parties and countreys, and prepare to the printe the ancient histories, offices, martyr- olognes of the birth, lives, death, feasts, churches, and cells of our Irish saintes, Avith severall other Lattin and Irish pious Avorkes, for wich alsoe we have of late erected heere a neAv Irish print, whence Avee hope Avill ensue manifold fruites, re¬ dounding to the great good and glorie of our Church and Catholike countreyment. But as you know our i^oore state of life, as it is uncapable of Avorldly substance, so being unable to disburse the requisit charges for pursueing such a costly inter- ])rise, the only remedy to accomjfiish what Ave intend is to have our present recourse unto youre pious bountyfullness, trusting in your noble affection towards your country’s patrones, that eA^ery one of you Avill be found no lesse zealous to second these our pious designes and feeble endevours, then Avee are by continual labour deviseing hoAv to restore the neglected honor of our saintes, church, and country, and withall^ to enkindle the devotion of our thrue beloved Catholicke countreymen, which hartily to doe it Avere (as Avee thinke) an urgent motive, only to consider hoAv all other Catholike kingdomes earnestly endeavour to extend theire name and fame, to procure theire felicity and finall sah^ation, and to maintaine in Augour to the divine seiwice and Catholicke faith, by the deAmut worshiji- ing of their proper saintes and holly patrones, throughout all their parishes and churches ; and yet, notwithstanding this holy generall custome of all others, hoAV our poore countrey, who gave patrones and apostles for the most parte to the rest of Christian countreys, is brought to that plight of miserie, that it doth not only worshippe these her hoyly missioners sent to the conversion of severall foorayne nations, but also is almost as yet ignorant of our manifonld patrones detayned at home, Avho were founders of so many rare churches, cells, and sanctu¬ aries ; not regarding, in the meane time, what ingratitude it is not to acknoAvledge the innumerable benefitts by their merits received, whome even as our countrey had of ould on earth those glorious instructors and doctors of the laAve of life and discipline, so them enjoyeth for intercessors in the celestiall kingdome to mantayiie constantly the faith and piety by them MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 383 anciently thaught. Which inconveniences to I'edresse, wee labour to prepare those workes above mentioned, wherein, amongst other infinitt pointes, it will clearly appeare to your view the state of our primitive church, our proper and parti¬ cular patrones and holly advocates, whose lives and devine ex¬ amples our jirechers may divulge hereafter, to the spirituall weale and consolation of all in general. To which end, and to obtayne competent charges for their imprinting, we doe hereby send unto you this father of our order, as our faithful procu¬ rator in this behalfe, most humbly beseeching, as you tender the favour of your countrey’s holly patrones in heaven, to in- tercesse for you in this wreched season so you will be pleased to bestow your pious allmes, and so oblige them, and likewise us, according our duty and custome, to pray uncessantly God for your prosperity and everlasting happinesse. “ Fr. Bernardus Coiinius, Guardianus Fra- trum Minorum Hibernorum Lovanii. “ Fr. Daniel Clery, Yicarius. ‘^Fr. Joannes Colganus, Sas. Theolse. Lect. Fr. Patricius Brennanus, S. Theol. Lect. Fr. Hugo de Burgo, Gl. Comissy, of the Irish Franciscan Becollects in Germany and the Low Countries.” Father Colgan, we may presume, was in the confidence of lord Inniskillen and MacMahon, whose conspiracy to seize the castle of Dublin ended so fatally for them both. The last will of Macguire has appeared in these pages, and the subjoined letter shows beyond all doubt, that the unfortunate nobleman, whose conduct on the scaffold was heroic in the most Catholic sense of the word, had the warm sympathies of the historian of the Irish saints. ^ Letter to the Rev. father Colgan. “ Reverend Father, —I have a sad story to tell you about Cornelius Macguire, lord Inniskillen, who was at large hitherto, but is now in Newgate, the filthiest prison in London—the prison of thieves and felons—himself and MacMahon, and a Scotch captain, also a Catholic, who Avas brought Avith them from Ireland ; they are all there in one small room, without food, or drink, or bedding, having but one small bed between them. And the wretched tyrants are not content Avith this. 384 APPENDIX TO THE but they say they will be brought to trial next week, at the assizes; and we fear very much they will be sentenced to death. I beg of you for God’s sake to pray without ceasing for them. God be with you, your own poor man James. ‘‘ London, May, 1643.” Letter of Thomas Dolan to father Burhe. “ Lev. Lather, —According to jwomise I send you herewith the coppie of the letter of which I made mention ; which is as followeth, and was written from Dublin by a marchant of accompt to his brother in Paris. The lord Maguire’s brother, called Pory, made himself sheriff of the county of Fermanagh, and hatli taken the lord' Blarney, his lady, and children, pri¬ soners. Sir Phelim O’Neill hath the country of Tyrone and Ardmagh in his custodie, and hath taken the lord Colfield prisoner, and likewise hath taken all the forts and strong places of these countries to himself. Sir Con Maginess and his three brothers have the castle of the Newry, and Carlingford in their possession, also Dundalk, where they have sir Ed. Trevor and sir Arthur Tiringham, two paid councillors, pri¬ soners. In which fort of the Newry they found thirty barrells of powder with store of arms. The M‘Mahons have the county of Derry and Dunnagall. The O’Beillys, the county of Cavan ; the O’Moores, the county of Lease; the O’Ferralls, Longford. The Cullons, Byrnes, and Tooles, their country. The Kavanaghs Caterlagh ; and some are in Drogheda ; so that there are eight thousand, and daily increaseth. What will happen from time worthy of writing I shall participate them. “ I rest your servant. “ Thomas Dolan. , “ Antwerp, 25 January, 1642. “ To Father Hugo de Burgo, “ Commis. Belgicus Fratrum Minorum.” But perhaps the most interesting of the letters despatched from Ireland at this period are the following two. On perusing Pury O’More’s the reader cannot fail to notice the anxiety of that leader for the preservation and advancement of learning- in Ireland. That of Geoghegan (who was appointed bishoj) of Clonmacnoise in 1647, and translated to Meath, 1654) shows what an active part the Franciscans took in the stirring events MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 385 of the time. The ship which brought the munitions to Wexford flew the Irish harp on a greenfield at the maintop;_ Letter from Bury O'More. “ Most Hev. F. Bourke, —Your great industrie and great charity to ayde your distressed country, and your great zeal to further this his holly enterprise, begun and mayntayned mira- culouslie by God Allmyghtie, stirreth me, althoughe unac¬ quainted, to give you manyfould thankes and acknowledge meself much obliged to do you any possible service in my power. My good friend Don Juan, come from you with this shipp, arrived most successfully in this haven, rather than in Galway, as yet subject and bound to the enemies by the pro¬ curement of my frend Clanrickard, and my grate frend F. Oliver (if I believe himself), and father Dominick, who, I am affrayed, hath done grate hurt alreadie, and is like to do more, if they be not soon reconciled. Some have termed them authors of the recusantie against our Catholic Church. I wonder if there were som one to inform his hollyness of these peoifle’s carriadge but he would fulminate an excommunication against all those that would oppose themselves publicly or privately ; and I think a brother should not spare the other in such a case nay, that it were glorious for him to show himself zealous therein. I gave my soundest advice to Don Juan to manadge his affayres there for the benefit of our best friends in Con¬ naught \ and I hope these all will be to your likeing, for there was none of the supreme counsell but myself; and if they were all, I dare say that I know none of them a greater frend of yours than meself. Although we be grately holpen by this brave succor sent from God to us, yet by reason our warr will be prolonged except God will worke miracles as he hath hitherto, you are never to cease there or in Borne to provide forces. I acknowledge that we stand very negligent hitherto in inform- inge you : this I understood meself, but could not remedie it throughe the want of suificient assistants against our cruell and craftie enemies, and the troublesome charge of generalship cast uppon me in upper Leinster, as undertaker of this enter¬ prise, althoughe unworthy of so grate a title. But now I hope we will do well, by the help of the many warriors as are now arrived. We played our owne parts—God send them to pursue well. I am sorrie, further, for the light and lying pamphletts that I see are to-be readye for the printe. There are severall that notes all occurrents inwardly by our order; 2 G 386 APPENDIX TO THE and you shall see how unworthily things are represented there and in France and in Roome. We have Father Brandon O’Connughor with us from the first day and afore, imployed, I think by your orders, to inquire monu¬ ments which may manifest some things, tho’ so much imployed in our very temporiill afFayres that it was impossible for him to take to any study or matter. If we may before Flan MacEgan dies,* we will see an Irish scoole oppened, and therefore would wishe hartely that those learned and religious fathers in Lovayne would come over in hast with their monuments ^ and an Irish and Lattin printe. F. Brandon would snatch himself over to inform you of all things, past and present, but that we cannot parte with him, and that his provincial! commanded him wayte uppon us. You seem very timorous of the Englishe state, but you need not; for there is no hope of composition for ever, nor of any meanes to come by it; therefore never care any more for them, but be stout all and zealous as I take you to be. Our next generall parliment, uppon the 24th day of October, at Kilkenny, will settle many of our affayres. The state of sundry provinces I write in briefe to those you know ; and so this only scroule I send to beginn acquaintance and familiaritye with so worthy a father, and pray that you be pleased to com¬ mand, as often as occasion will happen, him, although as yet unacquainted, yet Your very loveing frend and servant, ‘‘ Bu-Pi DE O’Moka. Wexford, this 20th of September, 1642. Endorsed— “ Bdo. Admod. Patri P. Hugoni de Burgo, ‘‘ Frum. Min. Hib. in Belgio Superiori, “ Bruxellis.” Letter from father Geoghegan. “ Kilkennaie hoc ipso St. Bidaci f. 1642. “Bde. Adm. Pater,— Hactenus in pressurus et periculis con- stituti, vel id consolationis obtinere non potuimus, ut litterarum * An eminent Gaelic scholar and jurist, whose family residence was Bally-Mac-Egan, in barony of Lower Oimond, county Tipperary, on the banks of the Shannon* MEMOIRS OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY. 387 commercio nti possemns. Benedicti vos a Domino et in a^ter- niim benedicta sit Patris Beatissimi inemoria, excujus ineffabili ])rovidentia, et paterna solicitudine, Imec ipsius et Sanctorum Insula a dira inimicorum Christi tyrannide liberata extitit. Pusillus et iiiermis fuimus immolandorum grex de cujus salute alea jacta erat; sed bene Petrus et provide miserans est Petro- nillge suae ; aperuit manum suam et omnes Hibernos implevit benedictione. Yox turturis audita erat in terra nostra, ploratus et ululatus multus; sseviente inimico ferro, et grassante unde- quaque flamma ; verum allato apostolico illo, immo ipsius salu- taris subsidio, ubi nil nisi abominatio desolationis expectabatur, vox exultationis et gratiarum actiones ubique resonabant. Tremente bine putrida Puritanorum secta animus nostris cum istis Apostolicis armis additur, et concilium mox a Patriis ordi- nibus cogitur in percelebri hac Cannicopoli, ubi adbuc seria consultatio, et diutina deliberatio de politici et militaris, quod statuendum est, regiminis modo. Supremum jam erectum tribunal et ex qualibet provincia sex ad hoc concurrunt summi consiliarii qui et reipublicje claves tenebunt, et militife leges