Tag: Irish Ecclesiastical Record

  • Primitive Irish Monasteries I

    Below is the first in a trilogy of papers on early Irish monasteries published in 1883 by Father Jerome Fahy (1843-1919).  Father Fahy is perhaps best known for his work on the diocese of Kilmacduagh, but in this series of papers he takes a closer look at the early Irish monasteries. His byline ‘Hibernia Sacra’ (Holy Ireland) gives an indication of the tone of his approach which reflects the contemporary romantic and somewhat chauvinistic pride in the early Irish church and its contribution to religion and learning:

    PRIMITIVE IRISH MONASTERIES.— No. I.

    HIBERNIA SACRA.

    IT was the privilege of our National Apostle to scatter the fruithful seed of saving faith throughout the length and breadth of Ireland. The soil proved to be generous and productive. The seeds which he planted and watered, rewarded him with their bright promise of an abundant harvest even long before he was summoned away from the scene of his apostolic labours. He saw the nation to which he preached, not merely yielding obedience to the Divine precepts, but evincing an anxiety to follow the Gospel counsels. It was an unprecedented change. The sons of the Irish without distinction of rank began to embrace the religions state, and the daughters of princes to seek consecration as virgins of Christ. In a word, Ireland through the apostolic labours of St. Patrick, not only embraced the true faith, but also quickly became the most celebrated centre of monastic life in Christendom. This development of monasticism, which was a crowning joy to our Apostle in his old age, was destined to receive a still greater development during the two succeeding centuries: — a development which was alas I destined to be impeded by domestic strife, and destroyed by invasion. Our Apostle’s work was fruitful; after he himself had passed away to his merited reward, his blessing was like a fertilising dew on the land. Religious vocations continued to increase, monasteries continued to spring up on all sides ; so that Ireland soon won for itself the enviable title of “the Thebaid of the West.”

    Columba seems to have inherited our Apostle’s rigid spirit of asceticism; and though destined to labour, during the most eventful years of his life, far away from his beloved Ireland, yet even in Ireland as many as thirty-seven monasteries claim him as their founder. Bangor and Lismore soon rose to eminence as centres of learning and sanctity. Their students were numbered by thousands; and not much less numerous were the loving disciples who gathered round St. Kyran at Clonmacnoise to be made familiar there, with those lessons of wisdom which he himself had received from St. Enda on the sanctified soil of Aranmore.

    St. Finnean’s Monastery at Clonard was amongst the most remarkable of which even that bright period could boast. St. Brendan and St. Jarlath had founded their most celebrated monasteries, respectively at Clonfert and Tuam. Meanwhile the monasteries of Durrow and Armagh attained a position of eminence among them all, which merited for them the proud designation of “Universities of the West.”

    But besides those monasteries, the fame of which is familiar to all who are even moderately versed in Irish History, there arose a vast number of religious houses, the names of whose founders are well-nigh forgotten. However, some idea of their number may be formed from a statement of St. Bernard, regarding a monk of Bangor, named Molua, who according to the abbot of Clairvaux, founded no fewer than one hundred monasteries. But it would perhaps be tedious to recount how monasteries were multiplied in remote glens and picturesque valleys, and in the islands which stud our bays, our lakes, and rivers. In any case it is more pertinent to the scope of this paper to ascertain the character of Irish monastic life during the period under review: and to realise as far as may be, to what extent religious life in our primitive monasteries came to constitute an important factor for three centuries, in the vitality and action of the Irish Church.

    With this object we may dwell briefly on the circumstances which, at that period, specially favoured the growth of monastic life in Ireland. The rude simplicity of our primitive monasteries will be found worthy of attention; and may help to remind us of structures similar in design and purpose which the spirit of monasticism created in other lands. The influx of foreigners to our shores, as to ” The storehouse of the past and the birth-place of the future,” will serve to remind us of the studies sacred and profane, which engaged the attention of our early monks. The austere religious observances then enforced by Irish monastic discipline, may be found worthy of the reader’s attention. And as the student who might wish to dwell on the early glories of our monasteries, would recall with a melancholy pleasure the sacred chant with which they were once resonant, we shall endeavour to ascertain the true character of Irish Church music at that remote period.

    The fifth century was for Europe a period of calamitous change. The reign of disorder was in the ascendant. The pagan world, undermined by its innate corruption, was in the throes of a mighty change which seemed likely to reduce society into chaos. The greatest empire which the world ever saw was about to perish, and with it those evidences of greatness which a refined pagan civilization had stamped upon it. The barbarians exulting in their new conciousness of power, revelled in the ruin which they caused. And as if to give a still more ruinous completeness to their excesses, their hostility to the Church was bitterly intensified by the poison of heresy which they had largely imbibed. Hence, Churches were destroyed, and monasteries plundered and committed to the flames. ”In such a state of things,” writes Dr. Newman, “the very mention of education was a mockery : the very aim and effort to exist was occupation enough for mind and body. The heads of the Church bewailed a universal ignorance which they could not remedy.

    It was a great thing that scholars remained sufficient for clerical education: and this education was only sufficient, as Pope Agatho informs us, ”to hand on the traditions of the Fathers without scientific exposition or polemical defence.” Under those circumstances it was inevitable that monasticism should have shared in the general decadence of religious influences Ireland, remote, and isolated in the northern seas, was unaffected by the lamentable events which proved so prejudicial to social and religious interests in the south and east. Within its tranquil shores religion was free to assert its influence, and bring with it in its train those blessings which Christian civilization confers. Within the precincts of its monasteries, science found a peaceful asylum, and piety a home. It was under those circumstances that Irish monastic life put forth all its youthful vigour; and combined the early fervour of the east with the strength and vitality of western asceticism. It was then that our country merited for herself the proud title of “Island of saints and scholars,” willingly accorded to her by the historians of Europe, and still fondly cherished by her children.

    In estimating the numbers with which our primitive Irish monasteries were thronged, it must be borne in mind that there were amongst them many natives of the principal European countries. Hither thronged the English, “as to a fair, to purchase knowledge.” Foreigners came from Gaul and Germany, to be made familiar with the secrets of Divine and human science taught in our monasteries. Our Martyrologies show with what success even Romans and Egyptians learned here the science of the saints. Neither must it be forgotten, that the manner in which foreigners were received by the Irish, was worthy of a nation whose hospitality was proverbial. Our monasteries were open to all, without distinction of race, rank, or country: and to all, knowledge and hospitality were gratuitously extended. To this Venerable Bede bears flattering and willing testimony ” The Scots (Irish) willingly received them all, and took care to supply them with food, as well as to furnish them with books to read, and their teaching gratis.” We should not therefore be surprised at the very large numbers with which we find our monasteries thronged at this period. As many as three thousand students attended each of the monasteries of Bangor and Lismore. In Armagh, the numbers must have been higher still. The number that attended there, even in the ninth century, was computed at 9,000. Such great centres of religious life, and literary activity, as Armagh, Bangor, and Lismore, which were thronged both by lay and ecclesiastical students, must have been in some respects different from the less remarkable monasteries, which were more exclusively devoted to religion. Where eminent teachers attracted large numbers of students, special rules were rigidly enforced regulating the intercourse of the students with each other, and with the public. At Lismore, women were entirely excluded from that portion of the monastic city which was devoted to religion and study. Nor is there any reason to assume that this rule was peculiar to Lismore. We find also that portions of the city of Armagh were set aside exclusively for foreigners. What was then the English quarter, was known as “Trian Saxon,” and comprised a third of the entire city. It may be assumed, with a fair show of probability, that the customs sanctioned in those cities were adopted by other monasteries when similar exigencies rendered their adoption necessary.

    And here the question naturally suggests itself, how was accommodation provided for such large numbers? What was the style or character of the structures which usually afforded them shelter ? Little indeed remains to remind the traveller of the extent, or style, of those famous monasteries, which, according to Montalambert, possessed religious communities ”the most numerous ever seen in Christendom.” Some have entirely perished; of others only a few crumbling ruins remain. Yet, from what remains of our ancient monasteries, and from the light which history casts upon them, our antiquarians have been able to form a fair idea of their general form and character.

    But we must carefully distinguish the primitive monasteries, of which I write, from those imposing structures which still remain to us, as precious memorials of the zeal and skill of our mediaeval monks. It must not be forgotten that primitive Irish monasteries boasted a venerable antiquity, even before St. Francis or St. Dominick were raised up by God for the honour of His Church. We do not, therefore, refer to those magnificent piles which were raised in Ireland by the great Mendicant Orders of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, in which pointed arches and graceful columns, and sculptured capitals, and ornate tracery, still proclaim the art of the builders. Neither do we refer to the chaste structures erected earlier still by the Cistercians and Canons Regular; and which are still imposing even in their ruins. Many generations had received their religious and secular training in our primitive monasteries, long before Gothic architecture, even in its simplest form, was known or adopted.

    Our earliest monasteries were marked by a rude simplicity of style. Many of them, indeed, consisted of a wooden church or churches, around which were grouped wooden cells for the accommodation of the religious and students. Such was the church which King Diarmait found St. Kiaran constructing at Clonmacnoise. “As he approached he found St. Kiaran planting the first pole of a church.” It is the opinion of O’Curry that a sculptured panel on the ancient Celtic cross which still stands among the venerable ruins of that holy place, commemorates the event. Such, too, seems to have been the monastery constructed by St. Columba at Iona. Nor was this method of construction entirely peculiar to Ireland. The monastery founded by St. Martin at Marmoutier was also of wood. His oratory was of wood; such also was his little cell, and these might have been regarded by the fathers of Irish monastic life, as models for the construction of their humble religious establishments. It is true that such rude wooden shelters would appear to modem taste as but ill-calculated to afford suitable accommodation to the students who rushed to these monasteries for education. Let us remember, however, that the requirements of the past cannot be estimated from the of the over-fastidious period in which we live. Even in the palmy days of Athens’ literary fame, the student’s lodgings there, are described “as but a crib or kennel,” in which he sleeps when the weather is inclement on the damp ground — “in no respect a home”.

    Considering the large number of monasteries said to have been founded by our early saints, the construction of all in masonry of even the simplest kind, would have been practically impossible. It is, however, certain they were frequently of stone. And as time permitted, the perishable wooden structures used as oratories were gradually superseded in many places by structures of solid masonry. Those stone oratories built after the massive style of the most ancient Pelasgic remains, must necessarily appear to us as rude. But though rude, they were enduring; and in their severe simplicity they were well suited to the heroic and penitential spirit of the period. Among the most ancient of our oratories are those of a conical or beehive-shaped form. The stone cells grouped around those oratories were frequently of a similar shape, and were often inclosed with their oratories within strong fortifications of Cyclopean masonry termed “Caisseals.” Such groups of cells, designated ”Cloghans ” by the peasantry, may still be seen in considerable numbers in Kerry, also in Mayo, Galway, Clare, and Cork. The rectangular oratory, with its solitary entrance in its western gable, is somewhat more recent, as it is also more commodious. Considerably larger than the oratory was the church (Diamliag). But considering the custom of stone roofing then prevalent in Ireland, even the churches were necessarily small. We frequently find churches and oratories in the same monastic group. It is not improbable they were thus multiplied to meet the exigencies of the community. Though a simple oratory might have been sufficient for a small community, several such churches should have been necessary for such communities as by reason of their reputation for piety and learning grew into remarkable centres of education.

    We are fortunate in having from the pen of Dr. Petrie, a description of one of those ancient groups of monastic ruins. As it represents a considerable section of our stone-built primitive monasteries, the sketch may be given here without apology : —

    ” Of such anchoretical (sic ?) establishments, one of the most interesting and best preserved in Ireland, or perhaps in Europe, is that of St. Fechin, in Ardoilen, off the coast of Connemara, on the north-west of the coast of Galway…

    The church here is amongst the rudest of the ancient edifices which the fervour of the Christian religion raised on its introduction into Ireland. Its internal measurement in length and breadth, is but twelve feet by ten, and in height ten feet.

    “The chapel was surrounded by a wall allowing a passage of four feet between them, and from this a covered passage about fifteen feet long by three wide leads to a cell which was probably the Abbot’s habitation. This cell, which is nearly circular and dome-roofed, is internally seven feet by six, and eight high. It is built like those in Arran, without cement and with much rude art. On the east side there is a larger cell, externally round, but internally square, of nine feet, and seven feet six inches in height. On the other side of the chapel are a number of smaller cells, which were only large enough to contain each a single person. They are hat six feet long, four feet wide, and four feet high, and most of them are now covered with rubbish. They formed a lavra like the habitations of the Egyptian ascetics.”


    It is a matter of interest to ascertain on such authority as that of Sulpicius Severus, that the monastery of St. Martin at Marmontier consisted merely of a number of separate cells grouped around his humble wooden oratory, like those subsequently established in Ireland. Nor is the interest likely to be diminished by the knowledge that a similar arrangement had been adopted long previously in Egypt by the monks of the Thebaid. We do not think it improbable that Ireland may be indebted, through Athanasius and Cassian, to Marmoutier and the East for the general material plan of our primitive monasteries, as well as for the spirit which prompted their rules and observances. And it may be added that, in the opinion of many eminent antiquarians, eastern art also continued to exercise an influence in Ireland, most noticeable in our romanesque doorways and early illuminated manuscripts. Writing on the subject, a contributor to the Ulster Journal of Archaeology observes: — “There is no doubt that at a somewhat later period we can observe the influence of Greek and Byzantine art upon that of Ireland. The monks found their way not merely to Byzantium, but also to Jerusalem and Alexandria and the Churches of Asia Minor. To this intercourse we can attribute the fret and guilloche, so profusely used in Irish Work, and with a variety and effect never seen in foreign works.” Even those who may be only superficially familiar with early Irish art, may remember with what effect those ornamental bands were used, now intersecting at right angles and at equal distances, and again intertwining in graceful curves, so as to present combinations at once striking and beautiful. We are assured also that the sculptured human heads frequently found on our early monastic doorways, sometimes exhibit a ” perfectly Egyptian type,” as in the case of the doorway of the round tower of Timahoe. The shafts of the doorway of the ancient church of Clonkeen, county Limerick, are said by Mr. Brash to exhibit a style of ornamentation analagous to that found upon the fragments of a pillar from the treasury of Atreus at Mycenae. These analogies maybe recalled with additional interest, when in the course of a future paper we may have occasion to refer to certain monastic observances peculiar to Ireland and the East.

    Monastic life in Ireland was eminently fruitful. The monks of the ”Western Thebaid ” were in reality what they professed to be — true religions. Their sanctity was neither affected nor disguised. It may be said with truth, that the history of Ireland’s saints at this period, was the history of her monks. Our Irish Episcopal Sees were for the most part governed by monks who were promoted to the rank of bishops. As missionaries, Irish monks were found in the foremost ranks in the principal European countries; Irish monks kept the lamps of religion and science so brightly burning in our land that they came to be regarded as the beacon lights of Western Europe. Bede represents Ireland of this period as renowned for their philosophy; and Ussher speaks of them as far beyond any other country in Europe in piety and learning. Thus in the science of the saints our Irish monks were the glory of the Church, while in secular knowledge they stood unsurpassed.

    In our next paper we shall see active minds vigorously pursuing such problems as the learning of the period brought before them, and shall dwell at some length on the subject of their success. We shall also consider the general character of the rigorous code of monastic discipline to which they scrupulously adhered.

    J. A. Fahy.

    THE IRISH ECCLESIASTICAL RECORD, Vol. 4 (1883), 80 -88.

    Content Copyright © Omnium Sanctorum Hiberniae 2012-2015. All rights reserved.

  • The Death of Saint Columbanus, November 23

    Below is the text of a most interesting paper which seeks to explain why Saint Columbanus is commemorated on 21 November on the Irish calendars, when the day of his repose or natalis is held to be on 23 November. It is usual for a saint to be commemorated on the date of his death, the ending of his earthly life then seen as the day of his heavenly birth. The dating system in the Martyrologies follows the old Roman practice, and I am very grateful that the translators of the various Irish Martyrologies worked out all those Ides, Nones, Kalends and Dominical Letters! The author of this paper, Father Bartholomew Mac Carthy (1843-1904), a pioneering Irish scholar in the field of annalistic and chronological studies, quotes many foreign martyrologies and other not so readily-accessible sources in presenting his case:

    THE DEATH OF ST. COLUMBANUS.

    IN pursuance of the promise given in the April number of the RECORD, we submit to students of Irish Hagiology a solution of the question respecting the date on which St. Columbanus died. That his death took place in November, 615, is placed beyond dispute. The controversy has arisen in reference to the day of the month: opinions varying between the twenty-first and the twenty-third; or, according to the Roman notation employed in the MSS., between the eleventh and the ninth of the Kalends of December.

    Could a question like this be decided in favour of the conclusion adopted by the majority, irrespective of the nature and force of their proofs, it were labour in vain to re-open the present discussion. Baronius, Mabillon, the elder Pagi, Soller, O’Conor, and Lanigan not to mention those who copy them are all agreed in accepting the twenty-first. This, it must be admitted, is a formidable array of authorities to contend against. Nevertheless, having examined the subject for ourselves, and having derived new evidence from a source unknown to these eminent writers, we have been led to the conclusion that our Saint was called to his reward on the morning of Sunday, November 23, 615.

    Three original authorities are at present available for our guidance. These are a Biography; the Martyrologies; and a passage in the Life of St. Gall.

    I. Some twenty-five years after the death of Saint Columbanus, his life was written by Jonas, one of his disciples. Strangely enough, it contains no details of the final scene beyond recording that, having passed one year in Bobio, the saint rendered up his soul to heaven, on the ninth, or, according to another lection, the eleventh, of the Kalends of December. The two readings, it is hardly necessary to observe, arose from the fact that the number was expressed not verbally, but in alphabetical numeration. Of the confusion caused by ignorant or careless transcription of this Roman notation, numerous illustrations will at once recur to all who are familiar with MSS., but the present instance has been, as far as we know, the most widely extended and the most long-lived.

    We shall first set down the published readings of the disputed lection in chronological order. The numbers within brackets – No. 3 was not reprinted- are the dates of the first Editions:

    1. Inter Bedae opera (1563), IX. Kal. Dec., Nov. 23.
    2. Surius (1570), – Kal. Dec., Nov. 23.
    3. Fleming (1667), – Kal. Dec., Nov. 23.
    4. Mabillon (1688) XI. Kal. Dec., Nov. 21.

    “As to the day,” Lanigan writes, “some MSS. have, instead of XI Kal. Dec., IX. Kal., etc. But Mabillon and Pagi show that the former is the true reading.” We begin, therefore, with Mabillon. As the tabulated statement shows, he was the first to alter the received Text: hence, it is important to learn in his own words the reasons which led him to introduce the change.

    At the reference given by Lanigan, he states: “Columbanus died on the 11th of the Kalends of November [December], as Jonas writes. Hence the Edition of Surius and some old Martyrologies are to be corrected, in which his obit is assigned to the ninth of the same Kalends, as in the genuine Usuard and Ado, to whom Wandalbert, who agrees writh Jonas, is to be preferred.” And in another work, not quoted by Lanigan, he has the following note : “In Usuard, Ado and Surius the reading is Nov. 23, but the memory of St. Columbanus is assigned to Nov. 21 in the Martyrologies of Wandalbert and of the Benedictines, which are supported by the MS. copies of the Life examined by us.”

    O’Conor transcribes and adopts these statements, and remarks that the error arose from inaccurate transposition of XI. and IX. This, of course, is true; but in the opposite sense to that intended by the author.

    The principal argument employed by Mabillon is based upon the assertion that Jonas reads XI. – which, it is evident, assumes the question in dispute. The same objection holds good in respect to Wandalbert; since the only sources of information open to him were the old Martyrologies and Jonas. Now, as will be shown by-and-by, all the former, even Mabillon admits some, read IX. Unless, therefore, he evolved the date from his own consciousness, Wandalbert must be admitted to have taken it from a copy of the Vita which contained XI. The statement that Ado and Usuard read IX. is opposed to all the evidence we have collected, including that of the Bollandist Soller.

    But what is specially noticeable is the matter-of-course fashion in which “some old Martyrologies,” that lay awkwardly in his way, are quietly set aside by Mabillon in favour of the Benedictine Monk and the Benedictine Kalendar. Equally noteworthy is it how, in marked contrast with his desire for accurate information on another occasion, he contents himself in this place with a vague reference to MSS., without adding a word respecting their localityantiquity, or authority. And yet, Fleming’s Collectanea was, of course, well known to him. Can it be, one is constrained to ask, that he did not care to enter upon an enquiry which might result in showing the inaccuracy, and so far lowering the prestige, of Benedictine authorities?

    Be that as it may, it is pleasant to turn from such loose statements to the precision with which our martyed countryman handled the subject. Of Fleming it can be truly said that his life was chiefly devoted to collecting every scrap relating to St. Columbanus. But his enthusiasm did not blind his judgment. On the contrary, he declares with equal severity and justice, that since Surius, as usual, tampered with the Text, and Bede’s Editors printed it incorrectly, both Recensions were equally worthless for historical students. Accordingly, he sought personally, and through such scholars as Miraeus, Rosweyde and Stephen White, for the best MSS., in order to present, the most accurate version of Jonas. Nor were his efforts, it is gratifying to learn, unavailing. “Whilst,” he writes, “turning over a considerable number of MSS. for this purpose, the most ancient I met with was from the Monastery of St. Maximin at Treves, which was supplied by Father Heribert Rosweyde. From that I transcribed the whole narrative, as you have it here; I also divided it into chapters, and prefixed the titles, which were wanting in the Codex, from the Edition of Surius.” This, therefore, is the highest authority which is ever likely to be forthcoming. The passage under consideration is given as follows: Porro beatus Columbanus, expleto anni circulo in antedicto coenobio Bobiensi, beata vita functus, nono Calendas Decembris animam membris solutam coelo reddidit.

    The absence of a note upon nono Calendas, it is to be observed in conclusion, shows that Fleming was unaware of any different reading in all the MSS. consulted by himself and on his behalf.

    II. We come next to the Martyrologies. Before discussing their relative value, it will be convenient to arrange them chronologically.

    1. Martyrology (so-called) of St. Jerome (seventh century): Nov. 23. In Italy, in Bobio Monastery, deposition of St. Columbanus, Abbot.

    2. Do. (prose) of Bede (eighth century): Nov. 23. In Italy, in Bobio Monastery, deposition of St. Columbanus, Abbot, who was the founder of numerous monasteries, and father of numberless monks, and rested in a good old age renowned for many virtues.

    3. Do. of Rhabanus (ninth century): Nov. 23. In Bobio Monastery, deposition of St. Columbanus, Abbot.

    4. Metrical Mart. of Wandalbert (ninth century):
    Undenam Abba Columbanus sibi servat, ab ipso
    Oceano: multis vitae qui dogmata sanctae
    Religione pia sparsit sermone manuque.

    5. Ado (ninth century) took the date from Wandalbert; and the entry from Bede. In one and the other he was copied by

    6. Usuard (ninth century); who was transcribed, in turn, with the omission of the word depositio, into the

    7. Modern Roman Martyrology. Though Usuard, like Ado and Wandalbert, was a Benedictine, and though his work was first read in that Order, yet in the present

    8. Benedictine Kalendar, the feast is fixed at the 24th, and the panegyric states that the natal day is the 21st. The latter statement occurs also in the sixth lesson of their Breviary. This arrangement was adopted into the Irish Church ; but at what time we are unable to say.

    9. The Martyrology of Donegal has Nov. 21 ; but in the case of Irish saints who lived abroad, its authority is not original.

    In respect to Antiquity, the foregoing Table is decisive in favour of the reading IX. Kal. Dec. With reference to Authority, it will suffice to quote the words of Benedict XIV. in his Letter to the Chapter of Bologna: “As regards Martyrologies, it were an open insult to your erudition, if we doubted you were perfectly aware how highly that of St. Jerome is, and has been always, esteemed; to which holy men in process of time added the names of saints who lived after St. Jerome.” Before showing how the old reading is confirmed by the Locality of the copies in which it is contained, we have to consider the proofs brought forward by those who adopted the new lection.

    Baronius merely says that Usuard, Ado and others more recent, treat of Columbanus at Nov. 21. Mabillon’s arguments have been dealt with already. Those of Soller are easily disposed of. He first ironically commends the authenticity and genuineness of a MS. Ado in which Saint Clement’s eulogy is partially expunged at Nov. 23, to make room for the insertion of that of St. Columbanus. But what stronger proof could we have that whoever made the erasure considered the better reading to be that given in the Hieronymian Codices (IX.), which Soller rightly conjectures he had examined? Next, he says Ado and Usuard, there is no doubt, read XI. a matter in which we are not much concerned; and that Jonas agrees with them which is true of the copies that have XI., but not of those that read IX. Lastly, he states that the entry in 5 and 6 was composed by Ado, though, as we have shown, it was taken word for word from Bede.

    The only critic who attempts to reconcile the conflicting readings is Antonius Pagi: ” The lection followed by Mabillon,” he decides, “is to be retained; for I have no doubt but that Columbanus died on Nov. 21, and was buried on the 23rd; and that some took occasion to corrupt the notation of the Life from having seen his festival entered on the 23rd in the Martyrologies of Luxeuil, Besancon, and Epternac. But they ought rather have inferred therefrom that Jonas marked the day of his death and those Martyrologists the day of his burial.”

    This takes for granted that depositio here means burial: an assumption which does not remove the difficulty in 5 and 6, where the deposition is entered at Nov. 21. Now, Pagi, we think, would find it hard to prove that the dead were consigned to earth on the day they died. But, to go to the root of the matter, depositio, we maintain, does not signify burial, but death, in Ancient Martyrologies. In the phrase depositio Columbani, the genitive, to use a grammatical expression, is subjective, not objective. In support of this, we append the following authorities :-

    1. “What is Deposition?” asks St. Ambrose, “Not that, surely,” he goes on to reply, “which is carried out by the hands of clerics in burying bodily remains; but that whereby a man lays down the earthly body in order that, freed from carnal bonds, he may go unimpeded to heaven. Deposition, in truth, is that by which we cast away evil desires, cease from offences, give over sin, and put aside, as if throwing off a heavy burden, whatever is prejudicial to salvation. Accordingly, this day is appointed for the chief celebration ; because, in reality, the greatest festivity is to be dead to vice, and to live for justice alone. Hence, the day of deposition is called the day of nativity ; since, when freed from the prison of our sins, we are born to the liberty of the Saviour.”

    2. This equation of depositio and natale is so closely resembled by that given in the Council of Clovesho (A.D. 747) as to tead one to believe the Fathers had the Sermon of St. Ambrose before them when drawing up the seventeenth Canon: Ut dies natalitius beati Papae Gregorii, et dies quoque depositionis, qui est vii. Kal. Junii, S. Augustini, Archiepiscopi . . . venerentur. St. Augustine of Canterbury, it is well known, died on the 26th of May.

    3. Mabillon quotes from an Ancient Kalendar : May 26. Deposition of Augustine, Confessor ; of Bede, Presbyter. “From this,” he concludes, “it appears that both died (obiisse) on the same day; but that the feast of St. Bede was put back to next day, to give a separate day to each.” Venerable Bede, it is unnecessary to say, died on the 26th of May.

    4. The Martyrologium Gellonense gives the deposition of St. Patrick on the 17th of March. But the Tripartite Life, the Memoir in the Leabhar Breac, and the Patrician Documents in the Book of Armagh all inform us that our National Apostle was not buried for twelve days after his decease.

    5. Finally, Notker Balbulus equates the three expressions employed in the old Martyrologies : XVII. Kal. Nov. Depositio, sive transitus, vel ad aeternam vitam natalis dies, beatissimi Galli, Confessoris, festive celebratur.

    Having thus dealt with the objections brought against the older reading, a few remarks will show how strikingly it is confirmed by local and personal circumstances connected with the Hieronymian Codices in which it is found.

    Against the lection, we find three Benedictines. These were all contemporaries ; and two of them lived in one diocese (Treves). Furthermore, he who wrote first took the date, 235 years after the event, from a faulty copy of Jonas: from him it passed on to the second; and from the second to the third.

    In favour of the reading, we have, to mention but some of the authorities, first, the MS. of Auxerre. It is unnecessary to dwell upon the intimate connection of this Monastery with the early Irish Church. Its Martyrology, Martene and Durandus declared, nobody would deny surpassed all others. Next, we have the community of Reichenau, which was in close amity with the neighbouring abbey of St. Gall. Their copy, according to Soller, was ancient, and of the best authority. Lastly we can quote the MS. of the monks of St. Gall themselves. How they obtained their information, we now proceed to show.

    III. The oldest extant memorials of St. Gall are found in a brief Biography written about a century after his death, and known under the title of the Vita primaeva. The anonymous Author states that his facts came through the deacons Maginald and Theodore, who had attended the Saint to the end; and from others who either could testify from personal knowledge, or had been informed by eye-witnesses. The work, as was to be expected from a writer not thoroughly conversant with Latin, was characterized by solecisms and barbarous modes of expression. When, therefore, the school of St. Gall had become a famous seat of learning, the monks determined to have the Life re-cast in a more literary form. Accordingly, they prevailed upon their neighbour, the celebrated Walafrid Strabo, Abbot of Reichenau, to undertake the work. By him the diction was improved, the narrative expanded, and the text divided into chapters. The result was, the original Life became so completely forgotten that a copy in the Archives of St. Gall is the only one preserved. From this the Vita was edited by Father Ildephonsus Von Arx in the Monumenta Germaniae Historica.

    Few who have compared them both will feel disposed to disagree with the Editor’s judgment that the new Biography did not cast the least additional light upon the old. The evidence afforded by the passage bearing upon the present question would warrant a more severe condemnation. His heading of the chapter – How St. Gall learned the death of Columbanus both by revelation and by messengers – shows that Strabo missed its purport: whilst by the omission of a single word he extinguished, as far as in him lay, the historical evidence unconsciously afforded in the Vita primaeva.

    We print side by side the original and the enlarged texts

    Vita primaeva
    Nam quodam dominico die . . . prima luce diei, vocavit vir Dei Maginaldum diaconum, dicens: Surge velociter, et prepara mihi ad missam celebrandam. Qui respondit: quid est hoc, domine? numquid tu missam celebrabis? Cui ille: Post nocturnam hujus noctis, inquit, revelatum est mihi migrasse praeceptorem meum Columbanum, pro cujus requie offeram Sacrificium.

    Walafridus Strabo
    Quadam itaque die . . . . . primo diluculo, vocavit Magnoaldum diaconum suum, dicens illi: Instrue sacrae oblationis ministerium, ut possim divina sine dilatione celebrare mysteria. Et ille: Num, inquit, tu pater missam celebrabis? Dixit ergo ad ilium: Post hujus vigilias noctis cognovi per visionem dominum et patrem meum Columbanum de hujus vitae angustiis hodie ad paradisi gaudia commigrasse. Pro ejus itaque requie Sacrificium salutis debet immolari.

    To understand the Nam, it has to be borne in mind that the original writer’s object was, not to record the day of their great Teacher’s demise, but to illustrate in the case of St. Gall how faithfully obedience was observed in their little community. The preceding sentence is: Quibus aliquid extra regulae tramitem deviare omnimodo indignum erat. Nam – and then he proceeds to give a striking example.

    Now, Maginald, who supplied the information at first hand, knew personally that St. Columbanus had said to St. Gall : “You shall not celebrate Mass until I die.” He knew equally well the query in the Rule Obedientia autem, usque ad quem modum definitur ; and the answer that followed Usque ad mortem certe precepta est. When, therefore, he found himself suddenly called up, and ordered to prepare for the Abbot’s Mass, what more natural than his astonishment and his query ” You, master! You are not going to say Mass, are you?” But the Rule was not to be broken: God, he was told, had made known that the time of prohibition had come to an end.

    All this happened on a certain day, writes Strabo, to whom the particular day mattered nothing. But not so to Maginald. He was not likely to forget the day and the hour – at day-break, on a Sunday morning. Had he not additional reason to bear them stamped upon his memory? Did he not have to start after the Mass, and foot it south all the way to Bobio, there to be told that the death had taken place at the day and the hour revealed to St. Gall?

    Quodam dominico die, is the original reading. Plain words to express a simple matter of fact! But time has given them a value which the old Irish Deacon could have little foreseen they would ever possess. Their decisive importance in the present discussion is beyond question. Through them we can establish the accuracy of the reading nono Kalendas Decembris by the unerring test of Chronology. Sunday, it is to be assumed, began at the midnight of Saturday. The Dominical Letter of 615 is E ; New Year’s Day, in other words, fell on Wednesday. The Regular November Letter is d. Accordingly, the first of that month fell on Saturday, and the 2nd on Sunday. Consequently, the 23rd fell on Sunday also. St. Columbanus, therefore, died on the morning of Sunday, November 23, A.D. 615.

    Thus, after a lapse of more than eleven hundred years, a new witness arises to add another to the many and undesigned coincidences which so strikingly attest the veracity of our Ancient National Records.

    B. MACCARTHY.

    The Irish Ecclesiastical Record, Volume 5 (1884), 771-780.

    Content Copyright © Omnium Sanctorum Hiberniae 2012-2015. All rights reserved.

  • Saint Laurence O'Toole, November 14

    Pictorial Lives of the Saints (1878)

    November 14 is the commemoration of a twelfth-century saint, Laurence (Lorcán) O’Toole, whose life and career I have only recently begun to research. It seems that there is much to unpack as he has a European dimension and also played a part in both ecclesiastical and secular politics. Unlike the vast majority of the Irish saints who feature in this blog, Saint Laurence was one of the very few to have gone through the official canonisation process, having been canonised by Pope Honorius III on December 11, 1225.  The year 1880 marked the seventh hundred anniversary of the death of Saint Laurence in Eu in Normandy and below is an address delivered to mark the occasion by the then Bishop of Ossory, the future Cardinal Patrick Francis Moran. In his homily the Bishop presents a stirring account of Saint Laurence as a heroic and patriotic figure, standing up to arrogant Normans, treacherous Irish leaders and English kings alike in defence of the rights of the Church. He is shown as someone who can give the English saint, Thomas of Canterbury (Thomas Becket), whose contemporary Laurence was, a run for his money. Interestingly, Pádraig O’Riain’s entry for Saint Laurence in his Dictionary of Irish Saints points to the silence of the Irish sources on his career. The Annals of Ulster mistakenly attribute martyrdom to Lorcán whilst the Annals of Clonmacnoise report his death as having taken place in England. No other Irish Annals record his death and the sole annalistic mention of Saint Laurence during his lifetime comes again from the Annals of Clonmacnoise which notes his presence at the Synod of Clonfert. The only major Irish calendar to record the feast of Saint Laurence is the seventeenth-century Martyrology of Donegal which notes:

    14. C. DECIMO OCTAVO KAL. DECEMBRIS. 14. 

    LABHRAS, Archbishop of Ath-cliath. Lorcan O Tuathail was his first name. He was of the race of Cathaoir Mór.

    I hope to return to the interesting life and times of Saint Laurence in future posts and wish all those who today are celebrating in both the Archdiocese of Dublin and in France the blessings of the feast. Below is how they did it in 1880 with all the triumphalism and patriotic fervour of the national revival:

    SEVENTH CENTENARY OF ST. LAURENCE
    O’TOOLE.

    ON Sunday, November 14th, 1880, the Seventh Centenary
    of the festival of St. Laurence O’Toole, was celebrated,
    with fitting ceremonial, and all due solemnity, in the
    Pro-Cathedral, Marlboro’-street, Dublin. The panegyric
    of the Saint was preached on the occasion by the learned
    Bishop of Ossory. Although we do not regard sermons,
    as a rule, suitable matter for publication in the Record,
    still, owing to its historical interest, we have determined
    to give such selections from this sermon as will suffice to
    illustrate the different phases of the eventful career of
    St. Laurence. 
     Our first selection regards the birth, parentage, and
    early life of the Saint: 

     “St. Laurence O’Toole was born about the year, 1125. His
    father was chieftain of the Hy-Murray territory, which embraced
    all those fertile and picturesque districts now comprised in the
    southern half of the County Kildare. St. Bridget was the patron
    of the family, and her protecting mantle, and her blessing, were in
    a particular manner extended to the whole of that rich territory.
    The infant was sent to St. Bridget’s shrine at Kildare to receive
    the waters of Baptism. Many signs and wonders foreshadowed
    his future greatness. The holy man who baptized him gave him
    the name of Lorcan, that is to say, one valiant and renowned,
    foretelling at the same time, that he would one day be magnified
    on earth and glorified in heaven. From his early years
    St. Laurence was trained in the school of adversity. He was
    given as a hostage to Dermod MacMurrough, King of Leinster,
    who threw him into a dreary dungeon and subjected him to the
    greatest hardships.” 

    “From the fortress of Dermod, St. Laurence in his twelfth year
    passed to the monastery of Glendalough, and within its hallowed
    walls he every day advanced in piety as in years. It would seem
    as if nature itself had destined the singularly interesting valley of
    Glendalough, to be a tranquil retreat for religious seclusion and
    for prayer. The high mountains that arise to the North and West
    and South, present impassable barriers against the intrusion of the
    world on its solitude. Towards the East alone the valley expands
    to welcome the first rays of the rising sun. The still waters of its
    lakes mirror the glory of the Creator, and the varied beauty of
    nature and the grandeur of the surrounding scenery raise up the
    mind to the contemplation of heavenly things. No wonder that as
    far back as the sixth century St. Kevin and so many other saints
    should have loved to dwell there. No wonder that it should be
    known to our early Fathers as the valley of God, the Rome of the
    isles of the west. Glendalough has long lain desolate. To the
    sight-seeing visitor of the present day it looks little better than a
    dreary and deserted solitude. And yet who is there not dead to
    the spiritual life, whose piety will not grow warm as he meditates
    amid its ruins. What must it have been when the lamp of Faith
    shone brightly before its shrines, when the spirit of God dwelt
    there, and the incense of prayer ascended from its altars, and its
    cloisters resounded with the joyous anthems of piety, and its hills
    echoed to the praises of God. The affections of the youthful
    Laurence were at once fixed on that hallowed spot, and full of joy
    he chose it for his lasting dwelling place. His father would wish
    to have lots cast to see which of his sons he would devote to the
    service of God. But Laurence would allow no such hazard to
    decide his choice. My resolution is already formed, he said, the
    voice of God calls me to serve Him, and it is my only desire to
    abide here in His holy love. For twenty years Glendalough was
    the constant abode of our Saint. As student and religious, and
    priest and abbot, he lived there, advancing from virtue to virtue,
    till he attained the sublimest perfection of the Saints.”

    But St. Laurence was not destined to end his days in
    the “rocky, wild retreat” of Glendalough. In 1162 he
    was appointed to succeed Greine, or Gregory, the Danish
    Archbishop of Dublin. The following extract tells how
    zealously, and with what happy results, he laboured in the
    discharge of his episcopal duties: 

     “Thus St. Laurence was a great saint. But he was also a
    great and illustrious prelate of the Church, full of zeal for the
    cause of God, and for the interests of all who were entrusted to
    his care. In season and out of season he laboured to remedy
    abuses, to promote peace, to strengthen the bonds of charity, to
    heal the wounds of past disorders, to revive piety and renew the
    ancient splendour of Ireland’s sanctity. He convened or took part in several Synods, not only in his own diocese, but at Athboy, and
    Clane, and Clonfert, and Cashel and Lismore, the better to revive
    the vigour of discipline throughout the whole Irish Church.
    Of him it may be truly said that he loved the beauty of God’s
    house. He added the choir and the chapel of Our Lady to the
    Cathedral of the Most Holy Trinity, and he left nothing undone
    to perfect the comeliness of that sacred edifice. The outward
    form of that venerable church has been renovated in latter times.
    Its inner life has long since departed, its altar and its sacrifice are
    gone; but its aisles and its arches, its rood screen and its Lady
    Chapel remain to attest the faith and the munificence of him who
    seven centuries ago merited to be styled its second founder.

    ” His care extended also to the churches and other religious
    buildings in Glendalough. The ruins of that venerable spot still
    excite the admiration. of men of cultivated taste. Its Cathedral
    and Round Tower, the Lady Chapel, and Teampull-na-Skellig,
    and the Ivy Church, and St. Kevin’s cell, and its other monuments, form a group of sacred ruins unsurpassed in Great Britain.
    Many of these monuments, indeed, belong to an earlier period of
    Irish art, but the crowning beauty of them all was added by the
    munificence of St. Laurence. Under his care religious institutions
    were multiplied. He introduced into his cathedral the Aroasian
    Canons, whose fame for religious discipline and whose fragrance
    of virtue had in a few years spread throughout the whole church.
    He built for them the monastery of St. Patrick adjoining the
    cathedral, and he wished himself to live with them, to wear their
    habit, to be numbered among the brethren, and to be foremost in
    all their religious observances.  

     “During a period of famine, which lasted for four years, he
    was untiring in his exertions to assist his people Throughout the
    whole of that time he took to himself the care of five hundred
    sufferers, and every day at least fifty persons received their food at
    his hands. The orphans he regarded as his special charge. No
    matter how many of them presented themselves, he took to himself
    the burden of providing for them all, and when his resources were
    exhausted he sent some of the orphans into the country parts,
    bearing aloft a crucifix, and soliciting aid for the little children
    who were so dear to our Blessed Lord. 

     But this awakening of the olden glories of the Irish
    Church, as a skilful historian of the period remarks, contrasted sadly with the ruin that was even then impending
    over the nation. What part St. Laurence bore in resisting
    the invaders of his country, the following extract will tell: 

     “At the invitation of Dermod MacMurrough, the worthless
    King of Leinster, who for his crimes had been driven from his
    sovereignty, a number of Anglo-Norman adventurers, brave but
    unscrupulous and reckless men, landed upon our shores, and with their advent began a long series of oppressions, and cruelties, and
    miseries, which have no parallel in the history of the Christian
    States. The military skill of the invaders, their armour, their
    method of warfare, gave them many advantages in the battle-field,
    and yet, all this, when confronting Irish bravery, often failed to
    secure them the victory. There were other arms, however, which
    seldom failed of success. These were craft and treachery and
    deceit, for where interest was at stake the Normans allowed no
    usages of civilized states, no principles of justice, or integrity, or
    honour, to stand in their way.  

    “The troops of Dermod and the Anglo-Normans laid siege to
    Dublin. St. Laurence was deputed by the citizens to negociate
    terms of peace, but whilst the negociations were being carried on,
    some of the Anglo-Norman Knights crept into the city unobserved.
    The Danish garrison at once sought safety in their ships, and
    then ensued a merciless slaughter of the defenceless citizens.
    St. Laurence as a good shepherd fearlessly braved every danger
    when the safety of his flock was imperilled. He threw himself
    into the midst of the carnage, he snatched the bleeding victims
    from the hands of their murderers, and himself bandaged their
    wounds. To the dying he imparted the consolations of religion.
    Even the slain were not forsaken by him. When there were none
    to inter them, he did not hesitate to bear them to the cemetery on
    his own shoulders, and to dig their graves, that in their repose they
    might not be deprived of Christian burial. 

    “During the following years we find him making repeated
    journeys between the contending parties to secure peace for his
    suffering people. But when his efforts at times proved unavailing,
    he with true patriotism endeavoured to rouse his countrymen to
    arms and to combine their united strength against the merciless
    enemy. Some seem to imagine that love of country and true
    patriotism cannot go hand in hand with piety and holiness.
    Never was there a greater fallacy than this. The noblest aspirations of our nature flow from the same heavenly source from which
    Religion comes to us. It is not the mission of Divine Faith to
    destroy or to impair those faculties which nature has implanted in
    the soul, but rather to elevate and to ennoble and to perfect
    them.

    “St. Laurence was the model of a true patriot. He impressed
    upon the Irish chieftains the dangers that impended over them.
    He entreated them to lay aside their petty jealousies, and to
    combine together to renew the glory that was shed upon their
    country on the plains of Clontarf. He even sought the aid of
    friendly chieftains in the neighbouring islands, the better to ensure
    success. A national army assembled at his summons, and for a
    time it seemed as if his patriotism was to be crowned with victory. The invaders were hemmed in on every side, and could no longer
    venture outside the walls of the capital. The confederacy, however, of the Irish chieftains was soon dissolved, and thenceforward
    all the efforts of our saint were directed to promote peace, to
    diffuse the blessings of charity, and to cement its hallowed bonds.
    Throughout the entire length and breadth of the land he was
    revered by all, and posterity has ratified the verdict of his
    grateful contemporaries when they wished him to be styled Pater
    Patriae
    , the true lover of his country and the father of his
    people.” 

     St. Laurence, like so many Irish Bishops of the present
    day, enjoyed the privilege of assisting at one of the
    General Councils of the Church the Third Council of
    Lateran. Perhaps, too, like his successor in the See of
    Dublin, the late Cardinal Archbishop, he was deputed to
    draw up in its final form some Decree of Faith, the
    influence of which will never fail in the Church. On his
    return from Rome he was appointed Papal Legate for
    Ireland. During the short time that now remained to him
    on earth, he employed his Legatine powers in Ireland, as
    he had previously exercised his Episcopal authority, in
    defence of the liberties of the Church, with the same zeal
    and fortitude as adorned the life, and shed such an undying
    lustre on the tragic death, of St. Thomas of Canterbury. 

     “It was in the same year that St. Thomas and St. Laurence
    entered on their high duties as Archbishops of Canterbury and
    Dublin. Both alike became illustrious champions of the Church’s
    liberties, and both received the honours of the altar, and yet in
    many respects how different was their whole career.

    ” St. Thomas, without any nobility of birth to commend him,
    engaged in the pursuits of ambition, and won for himself the highest
    honours and the richest emoluments of the kingdom. St. Laurence,
    though of princely birth, chose for his portion the lowly service of
    God, and faithfully walked in the paths of piety in the silence and
    seclusion of the cloister.  

    “Till he ascended the See of Canterbury, St. Thomas rivalled
    the monarch in the splendour of his state and the luxury of his
    table. He appeared at tilts and tournaments, in gorgeous attire,
    at the head of the chivalry of England, and he partook of all the
    pleasures of the Court. St. Laurence passed his days in penitential
    austerities: it was his delight to bestow everything he had upon
    the poor, and he made himself all to all that he might win souls to
    Christ.    

    “Even as successor of St. Augustine, St. Thomas seemed for
    a time to waver between the duty which he owed to the Church
    and his affection for his royal master. Strengthened, however, by
    God’s grace, he at length displayed the very heroism of fortitude,
    and won the martyr’s bright aureola as his prize. St. Laurence never deviated for an instant from the paths of holiness. Like the
    sun in the heavens he steadily pursued his onward course, and, with
    the palm of the confessors of Christ, he merited to unite the reward
    of the martyrs. He is styled a Martyr in our Annals, for, though
    he did not shed his blood for the faith, yet through his desire of
    martyrdom and his sufferings for justice sake, he ensured its eternal
    reward.  

    “St. Thomas’s martyrdom gave victory at once to the cause
    for which he died. It rolled back the tide of aggression in England,
    and peace once more smiled upon the Church. This lasted only
    for a time however. The Norman assaults were soon renewed,
    the liberties of the Church were again trampled on, the Church was
    treated as a mere handmaid of the State, and religion became
    enslaved. No wonder that the so called Reformation should ensue;
    no wonder that centuries of gloom, of error, and schism, and heresy,
    should settle down on the once glorious churches of England. It
    is only in our own day, through the blessing of the Sovereign Pontiff,
    and through the fruitfulness of Irish piety, that a second spring-time has dawned upon her, and that the sunshine of peace and
    the blessings of Divine Faith have begun to be restored to that fair
    land.” 

     The circumstances and consequences of his death
    are thus related by Dr. Moran: 

     “It was on a twofold mission, a mission of peace and a mission
    in defence of the church’s rights, that St. Laurence sailed for the
    last time from our shores. Having landed in England, he was
    informed that by royal order, the ports of the kingdom were closed
    against his return to Ireland, and thenceforward in the cause of
    peace and in the cause of the liberties of the Church he was to be
    an exile from his native land. Hearing that the king was in
    Normandy, he after a time set out for France, but worn out by his
    labours and anxieties, fell sick upon the way. Journeying along
    the smiling valley of the Bresle which then formed the southern
    boundary of Normandy, he came to an elevated spot now marked
    by a little chapel which bears his name, and as he saw in the distance the Church of Our Lady of Eu, he cried out ” Haec requies
    mea: This is my resting place for ever: here shall I dwell, because
    I have chosen it.” Entering the Abbey he was welcomed by the
    religious as an Angel from heaven. In his last moments he was
    heard to repeat the words : “Oh my people, who now will defend
    you, who will pour balm upon your wounds!” and closing his eyes in
    peace he could well exclaim, ” I have loved justice, I have laboured
    to promote peace, and to defend the freedom of God’s Church,
    therefore, I die in exile from the land of my birth.”  

    “No immediate triumph of God’s Church in Ireland marked
    the death of St. Laurence O’Toole. But it was something more,
    perhaps, that through God’s blessing the mantle of his heroism fell upon our whole nation. From his day the union of the Irish
    clergy and people has become indissoluble, and true patriotism and
    piety, love of country, and love of the Church have been inseparably blended together in the Irish Catholic heart. The contest of
    Satan and of the powers of this world against the freedom of
    religion did not cease, on the contrary their attacks became every
    day more fierce and more frequent ; and yet that liberty of the
    Church for which St. Laurence died in exile has never been for a
    moment surrendered. What nation ever suffered as Ireland has
    suffered to assert her liberty of serving God? The blood of her
    sons was poured out in torrents, her sanctuaries that crowned her
    hills and sanctified her vallies were reduced to ruin, a price was
    set upon the head of her priests: and even while the sword of
    persecution was said to be sheathed, was it not merely permitted to
    our people to drag out a sorrowing existence amid all the poverty
    and humiliation, and misery of slaves! 

    ” Six centenaries of St. Laurence’s feast have seen the struggle
    against our Church’s freedom still prolonged. The first three
    centenaries witnessed the Church of Ireland humbled amid all
    the miseries of national dissensions and of civic strife. The
    fourth centenary found Ireland suffering from the persecution of
    Queen Elizabeth, and sending countless children to join the
    white-robed army of the martyrs of Christ. The fifth centenary
    saw the Archbishop of Armagh mount the scaffold at Tyburn
    with the serenity of an angel, and with the heroism of a
    true martyr to die for the faith; whilst the successor of St.
    Laurence in this See, with the like serenity and the like
    heroism, at a few paces from where we are assembled, was
    laying down his life for the same holy cause in prison. Another
    centenary came on, and the faithful were seen gathered together
    in the garrets or in the stables of the back lanes of this city, to
    assist at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. At length, however, the
    day of victory and peace has dawned, and as St. Laurence on this
    seventh centenary of his festival looks down from his heavenly
    throne on the Church which he so loved, what will he behold?
    He will see his worthy successor walking in his footsteps, and free
    from every fetter, be it of gold or be it of steel, that could lessen
    his independence or prevent him from ministering to the flock of
    Christ entrusted to his care. He will see his faithful people serving God in accordance with the dictates of their conscience, whilst
    their faith and piety, and charity, are commended throughout the
    whole Christain world. He will behold the Church for which he
    laboured, not in the infirmity and decrepitude of old age, but in
    the full vigour and freshness of youth, her brow adorned with the
    laurels of victory, and her garments of virtue, bright and fragrant
    as the threshold of Paradise.” 

    Irish Ecclesiastical Record, 3rd series, Volume I (1880), 705-711.

    Content Copyright © Omnium Sanctorum Hiberniae 2012-2015. All rights reserved.