ESSAYS
 
 ESSAYS 
 
 BY 
 
 SARAH ATKINSON 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 "LIFE OF MARY AIKEXHEAD" 
 
 NEW EDITION 
 
 DUBLIN 
 
 M. H. GILL cS: SON 
 1896
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 MEMOIR . . . . . . vii 
 
 EUGENE O'CURRY ....... I 
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE . . . . . 27 
 
 THOSE GERALDINES . ..... . - . . 80 
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT . . . . . -99 
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. ...... 199 
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS ..... 241 
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE . . . . . . .281 
 
 HOGAN, THE SCULPTOR ...... 296 
 
 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" . ... . . . 319 
 
 THE DITTAMONDO ....... 327 
 
 FRIENDS AT COURT ....... 357 
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA ...... 367 
 
 2057748
 
 vi CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS ..... 380 
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED ... . 395 
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA .... 426 
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS ..... 467
 
 MEMOIR 
 
 THE author of this volume of essays has left a mark on her 
 time in her own place, lovely as a rose between the leaves of a 
 book. 
 
 A very flower of a woman, with a masculine vigour of mind 
 and will, she influenced her world even more by her personal 
 lovableness than by the multitude and importance of the 
 services she rendered to it. 
 
 Sarah Atkinson was the eldest daughter of John and Anne 
 Gaynor. She was born, on the i3th October 1823, in the town 
 of Athlone, not many paces from the western bank of the 
 Shannon, which divides the rich lands and picturesque scenery 
 of Westmeath from the uninteresting plains of Roscommon. 
 Even the town was in those days, before the present beautiful 
 bridges and quays were built, less attractive in that quarter. 
 Hence she used to say that she was born on the wrong side of 
 the river. 
 
 A remarkable child, tall, pale, dark-haired, dark-eyed, and 
 perfectly formed, she was of a lively disposition, open-hearted, 
 full of talent, fond of reading, and acquiring knowledge with 
 great facility. She loved stories, and created imaginary char- 
 acters of her own, with whom she conversed in a way that 
 astonished the younger members of the family. She was very 
 communicative at that period of her life ; but, as she grew up, 
 became silent and thoughtful, and preferred the company of 
 persons older than herself. 
 
 vii
 
 viii MEMOIR 
 
 Her mother was a woman of considerable cultivation, and 
 of a strong and noble character, hidden under a sweet and 
 gentle exterior ; while her father commanded universal respect 
 by his strength of mind, the largeness of his views, his prac- 
 tical sense, and his eagerness to aid in every good and useful 
 work. 
 
 When Sarah Gaynor was about fifteen years of age her 
 family removed to Dublin, on account of the facilities it 
 afforded for the education of the children. She soon dis- 
 tinguished herself by her application and success in study; 
 and began, even then, that system of diligent and systematic 
 note-taking which till the end she applied to all subjects that 
 interested her. 
 
 The studious and thoughtful girl developed into a woman 
 who took the innocent pleasures of life gaily, delighted in 
 dancing and the theatre, was fastidiously elegant in her dress, 
 and choice in the selection of companions and associates. 
 Her thorough appreciation of persons and things at their true 
 value saved her from frivolity, while the larger talents of the 
 order usually termed masculine lay by in her, a reserve of 
 power. She was even at that time remarkable for the ardour 
 and fidelity of her friendships, and for the strength and gravity 
 of her religious convictions. As years went on, religion and 
 friendship were the master passions which grew and intensified 
 with the growth of her nature. Throughout life her friendships 
 were ardent, faithful, and enduring; her tenderness was un- 
 wearied in service, vigilantly active in pursuit of the welfare 
 of'the beloved. 
 
 Personally, she was extremely attractive. While still in 
 early womanhood, her glossy dark hair had changed to a 
 beautiful gleaming grey, the silvery bands of which were in 
 lovely contrast with the soft depth and fire of the luminous 
 dark eyes and finely pencilled brows of Spanish black. Her 
 delicate mouth had a sweet curve of pure red, which gave 
 value to the tender paleness of the oval face. Occasionally a 
 touch of rich rose on the cheek lit up the dark eyes with more
 
 MEMOIR ix 
 
 than usual splendour. Her voice was low and persuasive, 
 sometimes a little tremulous, like her hand, which from in- 
 tensity of feeling would tremble like a bird in the clasp of one 
 specially dear to her. 
 
 In her twenty-fifth year she married George Atkinson, M.D., a 
 man of cultivated mind, and tastes congenial with her own. He 
 had graduated at Trinity College and practised as a physician 
 in Dublin, while at the same time he was joint-proprietor of 
 the freeman's Journal with the late Dr. Gray. Having 
 travelled much in Europe, he was well acquainted with the 
 best works of art to be found not only in the cities, but in the 
 bye-ways of the Continent. His connection with the Free- 
 man's Journal had led him into association with some of the 
 most interesting literary personages in these islands and in 
 Paris ; and in his later days it was often his pleasure to recall 
 the hours he had spent in the company of men who have 
 passed away, leaving brilliant names. Even before his 
 marriage, Dr. Atkinson's house was a hospitable one, where 
 many came who were remarkable for wit, talent, or learning. 
 His affectionateness and faculty for ever fresh enjoyment of 
 high and simple pleasures made him a charming companion 
 even for an hour. Those who came in closer contact with him 
 recognised his sound practical judgment and sensitive integrity. 
 For his wife he had the most tender adoration and unlimited 
 fostering care. No one appreciated so keenly as he the peace 
 that reigned in their home, the warmth and vigour of its daily 
 life, and its fine, far-reaching issues. Into this perfect happi- 
 ness came suddenly the tragedy of a mother's loss. One who 
 knew her intimately from childhood writes : 
 
 Sarah's only child died in his fourth year, and grief seems to have com- 
 pletely changed her view of life. After his death she was never able to 
 speak of him. Many who thought they knew her thoroughly were 
 unaware that she had ever been a mother. 
 
 Those who know the strong tenderness of the woman's 
 nature will not wonder to hear that there was a period, after 
 b
 
 x MEMOIR 
 
 her child's death, when she could only find peace in complete 
 retirement, when hours were spent weeping over a tiny shoe. 
 About the same period, Dr. and Mrs. Atkinson went to reside 
 in a quaint and charming neighbourhood, near All Hallows 
 College, and some distance out of town. The avenue was 
 lined with two rows of trees, which gave it rather a foreign 
 look ; the house was in a garden behind a great wall, entered 
 by a convent-like wicket with a little latticed window at the 
 top. To this neighbourhood came also to dwell the late 
 Mrs. Ellen Woodlock, who had spent years of early widow- 
 hood in a religious house near Paris. From her convent life 
 Mrs. Woodlock came to Dublin breathing good works, and 
 behind the grey garden-wall she found Sarah Atkinson recover- 
 ing slowly from the effects of her great tribulation. Mrs. 
 Woodlock, ardent, energetic, almost restless in her activity, of 
 an age to be looked up to as an elder, was just the person to 
 seize Mrs. Atkinson by the hand and hurry her into a bustle of 
 helpfulness. The two women became fast friends, and they 
 were particularly suited to do useful work together ; for if Mrs. 
 Woodlock's impetuosity would sometimes incur a risk, Mrs. 
 Atkinson's prudence and perseverance kept the brake on the 
 wheel and made a success of the enterprise. By their per- 
 sistent efforts they obtained access to the female pauper in- 
 mates of the South Dublin Workhouse. To effect this they 
 had given evidence before a Committee of the House of 
 Commons for inquiry into such matters. A Home, called 
 " The School," was opened near the avenue where the friends 
 resided, and to it many girls were from time to time transferred 
 from the workhouse, gradually drawn into peaceful ways, and 
 trained to earn an honest livelihood. 
 
 Some of these girls, who had been born in the House and 
 had grown up there, were found in an almost savage state, 
 looked on as untamable, and spending a great deal of their 
 time in a place of punishment called the " cage " ; but even the 
 worst were brought into order, the latent good that was in them 
 being developed by the wise tact and sweet solicitude expended
 
 MEMOIR xi 
 
 on them individually by Sarah Atkinson and Ellen Woodlock. 
 From the School many of them went forth, after long training, 
 having given proof of their trustworthiness, to England, 
 Australia, America, while a few remained at home to find 
 useful and honourable place in factories or households, where 
 their antecedents were unknown to, or kept a secret by, their 
 employers. After struggling long, in hope of the passing of 
 the Act securing a Government grant to assist industrial 
 undertakings, the Home, which had sheltered so many who 
 were practically outcasts, and had sent them forth respectable 
 members of society, was closed for want of funds. 
 
 During a visit to London, Mrs. Atkinson made the 
 acquaintance of Miss Bessie Raynor Parkes, now Madame 
 Belloc, who, in conjunction with Adelaide Proctor, Miss 
 Emily Faithful, and others, was deeply engaged in the good 
 work of a Society which laid the foundation of much reform 
 in the present day. Later, Miss Parkes came to Dublin with 
 the Social Science Congress, which met there in 1861, and 
 again meeting with Mrs. Atkinson, formed for her a deep and 
 lasting affection, one outcome of which was the conversion to 
 the Catholic faith of the talented English-woman. 
 
 In the course of time Dr. and Mrs. Atkinson removed to the 
 home where they passed the remainder of their lives, on the 
 High Drumconclra Road, then a comparatively rural neighbour- 
 hood. Behind the old-fashioned terrace on the hill were tall 
 trees, where blackbirds and thrushes still built their nests with 
 confidence, and long gardens with mossy walls, beautiful with 
 blossom and fruit of pear and plum trees. Little blue tom- 
 tits darted in and out of their holes between the bricks of 
 those old walls. Every summer a multitude of white butter- 
 flies hovered above a great lavender bush that basked in the 
 sun among old-fashioned blush and damask roses. The 
 western lights beyond the tall elms and the convent belfry 
 made pre-Raphaelite lattice-work in the knotted boughs of the 
 peach-apple trees. Looking out on her garden, Mrs. Atkinson 
 would sit at her work.
 
 xii MEMOIR 
 
 Mrs. Hinkson (Katharine Tynan) describing her, says : 
 
 She was always to he found at her desk in the time between breakfast 
 and lunch. Her home was a big, roomy, old-fashioned house on the top 
 of Drumcondra Hill, northward of Dublin. I have never known any- 
 thing like the purity of that house. It was so clean that the most vigilant 
 sunbeam found no mote to float in it. One has heard of the odour of 
 sanctity : the house was fragrant with that indefinable quality. Around 
 Mrs. Atkinson at her desk, in that room high over the city, was an 
 atmosphere most light, bright, and joyful. She had great beauty of 
 countenance: a broad forehead, regular features, delicate skin, and. "eyes 
 of youth " like Anne Page, startlingly vivid and shining in the face of a 
 woman no longer young. But these did not make up her great beauty : it 
 was the shining of the soul behind her face. The beauty of holiness, they 
 say. Well, I have known many holy people who oppressed one with their 
 extreme sanctity. They made one feel somehow unfit for their rapt 
 presence. But Mrs. Atkinson was one of those who, closely united with 
 God, was yet of human kind ; and perhaps seeing God in His creatures, 
 was kind to them with a great tenderness. One never seemed to intrude 
 on her. She was ready to drop her pen in the middle of a sentence and 
 welcome one, and then to show the kindliest interest in one's affairs. 
 
 They were such high old rooms. The window-sill was full of flowers 
 in bloom always in bloom, it seemed to me. The walls of books rose 
 either side the fireplace. On the mantelshelf was a picture of St. Barbara 
 with her tower. Mrs. Atkinson generally sat at the table, among her 
 writing materials, in the front room. Beyond the open folding-doors was 
 the dining-room, with more books. Outside the dining-room window was 
 a carefully-tended and fragrant flower-garden. The boughs of a big syca- 
 more were over against the window, a sycamore much frequented by 
 nesting birds, whose spring secrets you were well acquainted with if you 
 were curious in your point of observation. Just round the corner is the 
 exquisite church of the Redemptoristines, a very jewel of church-building, 
 where the Perpetual Adoration is carried on. There, winter or summer, 
 wet or dry, Mrs. Atkinson was to be found at the four o'clock benediction. 
 I have sometimes met her going or returning, in cloak and pattens, a 
 picture of cheerful serenity. I have never known anyone in whose presence 
 one felt such an uplifting of the heart. 
 
 The first hour of her working-day was often given to the 
 translation from the French of T}ie Annals of the Propagation 
 of the Faith, for many years entrusted to her. On her writing- 
 table was always a row of familiar books : The Douay Bible,
 
 MEMOIR xiii 
 
 The Fathers of the Desert, A Journal of Meditations, a large- 
 print Testament, Dr. Trench's little book on pure English, 
 generally held their place, but many others came and went, 
 displaced and replaced as they were wanted. The afternoon 
 found her on her way to pay visits of charity and kindness, 
 the pockets which lined her skirt and cloak well filled with a 
 variety of articles for the comfort and use of the needy and 
 sick. For many years the poor in the South Dublin Work- 
 house were her care, but of late the distance was found too 
 fatiguing, and, in exchange, hospitals nearer home knew the 
 blessing of her presence. A visit to a church, to a friend 
 specially beloved, or who had particular need of her, were 
 included in the day's outing, and perhaps half an hour was 
 spent in a bookshop. A rummage through an old bookshop 
 was one of her delights, particularly when she hoped to find 
 there some morsel of information she was at the moment in 
 pursuit of. She was at all times fond of society, and long 
 after she had ceased to " go out," as it is called, she might 
 sometimes be seen at a concert of high-class music. For music, 
 less than the best, she did not care, and her taste in pictorial 
 art was of the same fastidious order. She would prize an 
 engraving or even a photograph of a picture by some favourite 
 master, but much of modern art, with its abundant prettiness 
 and poverty of meaning, failed to interest her. On her walls 
 she had noble engravings of a few masterpieces, such as are a 
 perpetual delight to the gazer ; for instance, Perugino's Christ 
 with Saints, in a delicious Italian landscape, a feature which 
 few of the frequenters of her house will forget. Many a visit 
 to Rome and the other great Italian cities, to Munich, 
 Dresden, and the shrines of France and Belgium, had made 
 her intimately acquainted with the best in art. The large 
 photograph of Saint Barbara, by Palma Vecchio, from St. Mark's 
 at Venice, which stood on the mantelpiece of her study, was 
 more precious to her than galleries of second-rate paintings. 
 Of this picture it may be said that some of her friends looked 
 on it as specially characteristic of Mrs. Atkinson herself, the
 
 xiv MEMOIR 
 
 large gracious figure and noble womanly face having a certain 
 remarkable resemblance to her. 
 
 She loved to have a few friends gathered round her of an 
 evening, and on these occasions, books, mosaics, photographs 
 about her rooms, reminded the visitor of the cultured tastes of 
 their travelled hosts. Conversation was brilliant with reflec- 
 tions from many a world-famed sanctuary and treasury of art, 
 and yet the paramount subject of interest was always some- 
 thing connected with the mother-country, the history, the 
 welfare of Ireland, our progress, our shortcomings, our 
 struggles, hopes, misfortunes, virtues. Anyone who brought 
 a contribution of fanciful lore, or of freshly-studied character 
 or incident, was welcomed. Among the frequent guests were 
 several who have contributed to the work of keeping alive a 
 smouldering spark of literature and art in Ireland, journalists, 
 men of letters, and good musicians, the members of a musical 
 society then in its prime in Dublin. Glees and madrigals, 
 worthy of St. James's Hall, were to be heard in that drawing- 
 room in Drumcondra. On the more frequent occasions when 
 the visitors were a very few ("study evenings" somebody 
 called them), the after-dinner hours were spent in Mrs. 
 Atkinson's own particular writing-room among the books, with 
 plenty of book-talk, and an accompaniment of anecdote, wit, 
 and laughter. 
 
 The list of her good works is a golden roll, and only the 
 angels can call it. To her regular and persevering supervision 
 the success of the Children's Hospital in Upper Temple 
 Street, Dublin, is mainly owing. This institution was initiated 
 by Mrs. Ellen Woodlock, and the Irish Sisters of Charity now 
 have it in charge ; but Mrs. Atkinson's laborious fidelity was 
 the bridge that bore the early uncertain steps of the enter- 
 prise into present security. Where others had designed and 
 faltered at the work, she, though not responsible, would be 
 looked to for the rescue, and might be counted on to carry 
 out the plan. Let who would begin and leave off, her hand 
 was steadily on the plough. The management of the large
 
 MEMOIR xv 
 
 " Sodality " of the Children of Mary, attached to St. Francis 
 Xavier's Church in Gardiner Street, also devolved upon her ; 
 and for many years the members looked to her as their mother 
 and head. Girls, young women, even old women, gathered 
 round her on Sundays, after their week's work in warerooms 
 and shops and factories. For all she had warm bright smiles 
 and lively words. Wearing her blue ribbon and the gleaming 
 medal of the society, chatting among her girls and distributing 
 her booklets, she was a comfortable sight, still more so if come 
 upon retired in a corner in earnest conversation with some 
 particularly needy soul, prudently advising or administering 
 consolation. In connection with this sodality was a lending 
 library, a source of much usefulness, and yet another outlet for 
 her zeal. The buying of the books, the management of the 
 funds, were in her hands. She searched the publishers' lists 
 for matter which would educate and refine her readers, while 
 at the same time she carefully catered for their entertain- 
 ment. The quaint remarks in the library, the rough-and-ready 
 criticisms on books, the acute perception of what was good 
 and unsparing condemnation of what failed to attract, were 
 delightful to her sense of the humorous. On the margin of 
 her pocket-books are library jottings, a striking comment, a 
 queer little saying, caught by her pencil as it went flying past 
 her. 
 
 Of her hospital visitation Mrs. Hinkson says : 
 
 I remember visiting a patient in a Dublin hospital one wet winter 
 Saturday. Outside, the streets steamed with rain ; and inside, the dark 
 shadows crept up the great, blank walls, and the unadorned ward looked 
 unutterably dreary. \Vhile I was there, Mrs. Atkinson came in, in her 
 long cloak and black bonnet, her arms laden with packages. She stopped 
 at every bed ; for every patient she had a few cheery words and a little 
 gift : there was an orange for one, a story-book for another, a package of 
 tea for a third. Her face brightened the dreariness; and as I looked 
 after her, I thought her indeed a ministering angel. 
 
 Besides all that can be told, she had her own thousand and 
 one methods of bestowing kindness on the poor, and the sick,
 
 xvi MEMOIR 
 
 and the sorrowful. In all kinds of ways she found out the 
 needy and deserving, and made herself helpful to them. 
 Among institutions, her favourite charity was that of the 
 Hospice for the Dying, of which her sister, Mrs. Anna Gaynor, 
 is Mother Rectoress. To this house she was a continual 
 benefactress, and it was holiday to sisters and patients when 
 her dark bright eyes were seen coming in at the door and her 
 sweet low laugh was heard in and out of the wards and the 
 parlours. 
 
 On this institution of the hospice, the following passage, by 
 the writer on Irish Charities, appears in Lady Burdett Coutts' 
 work entitled, Woman's Mission : 1 
 
 It is not a hospital, for no one conies here expecting to be cured ; nor 
 is it a home for incurables, as the patients do not look forward to spending 
 years in the place : it is simply a "hospice," where those are received 
 who are very soon to die, and who know not where to lay their heads. 
 The red-tiled passages and corridors of the old house have sugges- 
 tions under their broad-beamed roof quite unlike Mr. Henley's abode of 
 suffering 
 
 " Cold, naked, clean, half-workhouse and half-jail." 
 
 Looking round the pleasantly-coloured wards and rooms, one feels that 
 any creature might desire the boon of dying here ; but the Irish poor, 
 whose spiritual yearnings are so intense, and who in this place are sur- 
 rounded by religious consolations, find in it a foretaste of heaven. I had 
 been kneeling for some minutes in the beautiful mortuary chapel, where 
 fresh flowers are always blooming, before I perceived two figures extended 
 on marble rests, one on either side of the altar, as effigies lie that have 
 lain so for centuries. Yet no sculptures ever possessed the beauty and 
 sweetness of the figures I there saw a man in the maturity of youth, with 
 dark hair, brown beard, and handsome stately features ; a little girl, 
 whose deep-fringed eyelids were closed over eyes that were blue through 
 their covering. Each had an ineffable smile, the look of having learned 
 the secret of happiness, and of knowing oneself safe with God. A 
 charity that concerns itself with the dying appeals, almost more than any 
 other, to the naked human heart the heart of man stripped of all its 
 
 1 Woman 's Mission. Edited by the Baroness Burdett Coutts. London, 
 1893-
 
 MEMOIR xvii 
 
 conventional surroundings and surprised behind all its barricades. Living 
 poverty and suffering may be kept out of sight, but death comes to all, 
 and no one can feel sure of what his circumstances and needs will be in 
 his own supreme hour. Sympathy, springing from the touch of nature 
 that makes the whole world kin, is shown by the gifts that drop in to help 
 this completely foundationless, and in one sense unprovided, charity, 
 which looks for its manna direct from the heavens. Bequests from those 
 who, in the straits of their own soul's passage, remember this pathetic 
 labour of the Sisters of Charity, help occasionally, like the back-reaching 
 of friendly hands ; and the poor themselves often contribute a mite to the 
 work, feeling that, should destitution overtake them in the end, they may 
 yet hope to lie in the Nuns' Chapel before the earth receives them ; ere 
 Nature weaves her veils of grass and dew over the weary heart's indis- 
 turbable slumber. 
 
 From the days of her schoolgirl note-taking up to the last, 
 Sarah Atkinson's pen and pencil were busy. Her letters to 
 her friends are delightful. Her perception of individual char- 
 acteristics and her keen sense of humour were ever alert as she 
 went about her works, and everything that pleased her was 
 reflected in her correspondence. Her little notebooks show 
 the lively pleasure she took in catching humorous or pathetic 
 expression on the wing. She had books of notes on many 
 kinds of subjects, gleanings from readings of purpose, material 
 for well-thought-out essays, if she could only make time to use 
 them, and these she would call her " quarries." Others were 
 jottings of travel, Irish and foreign, lists of books she was 
 reading or meant to consult, scraps of sacred and legendary 
 lore. 
 
 Her earliest writings were intended chiefly as expressions 
 of her delight in art and travel, but betray her fine power 
 of criticism, and her acute observation of men and things. 
 She saw nature with the eyes of an artist, and gathered its 
 colouring into her pages. These first sketches are not 
 among the essays in this volume, nor is here to be found a 
 remarkable paper on Workhouses, read by her before the 
 Social Science Congress which met in Dublin in 1861. The 
 short biography of John Hogan, the Sculptor, was written 
 some years earlier than that of Eugene O'Curry. Her sketch
 
 xviii MEMOIR 
 
 of the life of John Henry Foley, the Sculptor, is the only full 
 record of him yet in print. As years went on, she was more 
 and more closely drawn to those who serve God before all 
 things, and engaged herself particularly with the lives of the 
 Irish saints. With her paper on St. Brigid she took exceeding 
 pains. Outside the Irish calendar, St. Catherine of Siena was 
 her favourite. So greatly was her mind occupied with the 
 sayings and doings of these holy " Friends at Court," as she 
 playfully called them, that they seemed as much her daily com- 
 panions as those she conversed with in the flesh. But it was 
 a homely companionship, never abstracting her heart from the 
 humanity surrounding her, only giving her larger sympathies 
 both human and spiritual, and a sweeter vivacity of manner 
 from the joyousness it imparted to her. At all times her con- 
 versation was refreshingly vigorous, alive with her experience. 
 Her bright eyes saw so clearly under the surface of common 
 things, that she was always putting some situation of persons, 
 or meanings of things, before one in a light and with a colour 
 not hitherto recognised. She used happy original phrases, 
 and with such unstudied effect that people wondered at the 
 vivid impressions they received from her most effortless talk. 
 The touches of her humour were given with light, quick 
 strokes, and sometimes in unexpected seasons and places. 
 A friend used laughingly to accuse her of having jested on 
 the threshold of a church. She was in the Dominican 
 church at Siena, when a large black dog made his way into 
 the sanctuary and barked at the priest. Leaving the church, 
 one of her party declared himself scandalised. " Don't be 
 shocked," said Mrs. Atkinson, with her gleeful laugh, " there 
 could not be any harm in the dog. I am sure he was only 
 one of the Domini-canes !" 
 
 It was from deliberate choice that Mrs. Atkinson published 
 her essays in Dublin, addressing herself to readers in her own 
 country. She had no wish to suit the English market, or 
 secure a place in the London periodicals. She preferred to 
 write for her own people, and to publish where they could read
 
 MEMOIR xix 
 
 what she might write. Rather would she reach the ear of this 
 chosen audience than obtain the applause of the most critical 
 of circles. In her earlier years she contributed to the Irish 
 Quarterly Review, produced in Dublin, and holding, in its 
 day, an important place in periodical literature. Later, the 
 sympathy and co-operation of the Rev. Matthew Russell, S.J., 
 the editor of the Irish Monthly, enabled her to carry out still 
 further her ideas with regard to her public. She had a great 
 liking for cheap and simple publications, and often spoke 
 of the value of good words flung broadcast on the sheet 
 of a newspaper, a casting of one's bread upon the waters 
 sure to bring a generous return. Such work she considered 
 better worth than bookfuls of choicest poetry or high-class 
 fiction. She was extremely sensitive, however, to poetry of 
 the first order. Fiction had but little charm for her. She 
 did not like stories, because she believed they were never true. 
 A little bit of unvarnished life was more to her than all the 
 romances of the novelists. " In order to shape out a story," 
 she said, " truth must be sacrificed." 
 
 In 1879 Mrs. Atkinson completed the serious labour of 
 writing fur the Order of the Irish Sisters of Charity, of which 
 two of her sisters are members, an extended biography of their 
 foundress. Prefixed to it is a historical sketch, to show from 
 what depths of suffering the Irish poor were hopelessly looking 
 for succour when the strong-hearted Mary Aikenhead left 
 home and kindred for their sake, and the people agonising 
 found in her a comforter. The work was a laborious one, 
 involving the reading and sifting of quantities of papers and 
 documents preserved in the archives of every convent of the 
 Order now established in Ireland. With characteristic devotion 
 Mrs. Atkinson threw herself into her task. Besides the read- 
 ing necessary, there were innumerable visits to be paid, con- 
 versations to be held and pondered in search of evidence to 
 form links in the heroic tale. She had a large idea of what a 
 biography ought to be, and willingly toiled to accumulate 
 material very difficult to obtain. The result is an accurate and
 
 xx MEMOIR 
 
 fascinating record of a period long gone by, a gallery of distinct 
 and truthfully-coloured portraits of men and women who lived 
 to good purpose in that difficult day. At this time the 
 biographer of Mrs. Aikenhead found her old habit of taking 
 note of the flying word do her good service, and the book she 
 produced is rich in traits of Irish character, expressed in word 
 as well as shown forth in deed. While reading it, one cannot 
 but wish that her genius for sympathy might have found 
 another outlet, and we had seen in her the great novelist of 
 Ireland ; for though she so often chose saints for her heroes 
 and heroines, yet never had anyone a larger appreciation of 
 humanity as met with even among the lowliest and most 
 faulty of her fellow-country people. In the historical sketch 
 with which she prefaced the biography she was quite as 
 successful as in the body of the work ; so much so that the 
 brilliant, yet solidly condensed, fragment of history attracted 
 the notice of Mr. Lecky, and drew from him expressions of 
 very earnest commendation. 
 
 Her notebooks on various subjects are interesting treasuries, 
 but no one had the key to them but herself. In her later years 
 the mere reading-up a subject and taking notes was a pleasure 
 to her, and she would sometimes say she wondered why she 
 continued it, as she had already more quarries than she could 
 ever live to build from. 
 
 Of all her collections of notes, the Workhouse Journal is the 
 most humanly interesting. From its short, pithy, and often 
 witty entries can be gleaned the stories of one after another of 
 the almost savage maidens, born in the dismal and evil dwelling, 
 whom it was her happiness to civilise and to guide into Chris- 
 tian homes. Her particular protegees were the most turbulent 
 ringleaders of riots and offences, so violent that the master of 
 the House was often in fear of his life from their attacks. A 
 certain number, known as the " gipsy band," strolled through 
 the House, beat the officers, seized and consumed the provisions 
 apportioned to old women, danced and shouted, struck each 
 other, and on one occasion set fire to the House that sheltered
 
 MEMOIR xxi 
 
 them. These wild girls had been brought up in the work- 
 house, were full of health and spirits, ignorant and idle, with 
 no outlet for their energies, no object for their existence from 
 day to day and from year to year. Under Sarah Atkinson's 
 influence they slowly and gradually accepted the bondage and 
 admitted the blessedness of labour. Ardent affection for her 
 who had devoted herself to their deliverance enabled them to 
 curb their passions and overcome their bad habits. They 
 became docile and industrious, and in many cases happily 
 lived to distinguish themselves by their virtuous conduct. 
 
 In her visitation of the hospitals, it was not alone that Mrs. 
 Atkinson paid attention to the sick, but that she pursued her 
 poor patients with kindness and helpfulness to their homes. 
 When the convalescent had passed from the ward, it was 
 generally to take up the burden of a sorrowful life under which 
 the sufferer had fallen, and here was an outstretched hand to 
 lighten the load. Many a tragic story she saw to its close, the 
 first chapters of which had been read by her at the hospital 
 bedside. Through this sympathetic medium, as well as in 
 connection with her religious sodality, she had great openings 
 for extending the circle of the Apostleship of Prayer. A large 
 book remains in which a multitude of names of men and 
 women, members of the Apostleship, are inscribed by her 
 hand. On certain days her writing-table was covered with 
 neat piles of leaflets and little books for distribution, and her 
 messenger was on foot carrying hither and thither her packages 
 to the post-office or to the doors of humble homes. For the 
 Catholic Truth Society she had an especial admiration, and 
 supplied herself largely with their publications for charitable 
 purposes. No zealous admirer of Shakespeare or Shelley ever 
 handled an edition de luxe of his favourite master with more 
 delight than would she the little new volume issued by Catholic 
 Truth Society. Knowing by her experience that it was sure 
 to do incalculable good, even the sight of its outside cover was 
 a joy to her. 
 
 For many years before her death Dr. and Mrs. Atkinson
 
 xxi i MEMOIR 
 
 had given up all evening amusements not in their home, 
 but anyone who penetrated to that sanctuary found with them 
 delightful entertainment. The doctor read, and his wife wrote 
 at the same table, often laying down her pen to listen to 
 some passage the reader thought worthy her attention. The 
 contents of the Reviie des Deux Mondes, and the best English 
 reviews, were discussed, and reliable notes on art were carefully 
 scanned. Here and there they found illustrations of their own 
 vivid memories of favourite scenes of travel. Sometimes Mrs. 
 Atkinson would sew while the reading went on. Her work- 
 box, like all around her, was exquisitely neat, and contained 
 a bit of everything a seamstress is in need of. From girlhood 
 she was remarkable for putting many things deftly into small 
 compass. Dr. Atkinson told a story of how once at a picnic 
 she produced a much-required match for the benefit of the 
 company, from a dainty little pocket-receptacle containing also 
 a needle and thread and other useful trifles, carefully assorted 
 with a view to possible emergencies during a long day's gipsy- 
 ing. Such stories of this would provoke her laughter, that 
 laughter of which her husband used to say, that it fell about his 
 ears " with a surprise as of a shower of fresh lilies." 
 
 A volume might be filled with anecdotes illustrating the 
 dignity, the sweetness, the winning attractiveness of her char- 
 acter. Her happy theory of life alone made her a benefac- 
 tress. "Live like the bird on the twig" was her counsel to 
 the depressed, a variation on the "always rejoice" of St. Paul. 
 Like other saints, she had no toleration for evil, though for the 
 sinner unstinted clemency. Within the limit of her means she 
 was a royal giver, the self-denying simplicity of her habits 
 enabling her to exercise a real munificence. Her gold is 
 buried in the cellars and lanes of Dublin city ; no miser ever 
 hid away his treasure with a more jealous secrecy. Yet no- 
 where were found in her the harsh lines and angles of a visible 
 asceticism. In herself, mind and body, as in all her belong- 
 ings, there was ever the gracious curve, the enchanting touch 
 of colour. So perfect a whole was she that, only for faith, it
 
 MEMOIR xxiii 
 
 would seem a flaw in nature that so splendid a flower should 
 perish, an irremediable misfortune to the world that so much 
 sweetness and helpful strength should be for ever lost to 
 it. Two years ago her health began to fail, and on the 
 8th of July 1893 she left us. Dr. Atkinson could accept no 
 consolation save that of religion, and a few months after her 
 departure, being full of faith and hope, he joyfully followed 
 her. 1 
 
 This slight sketch of a noble subject may close fitly with 
 the following tribute from the pen of Miss Charlotte O'Conor 
 Eccles : 
 
 Her beautiful life was hidden from the world, and known only in 
 part even to those best acquainted with her. So human a saint I never 
 met. One never heard her speak of religion, she lived it. To her it 
 would have seemed idle and unnecessary to refer to the leading principle 
 of her life as it would be to a young mother to protest that on the whole she 
 loved her child. 
 
 She took the love of God for granted, and in her sweet charity thought 
 everyone was as good as herself, or would be if they had the opportunity. 
 And with this she was no mere devotee. She was a woman with mind 
 and heart and intellect and solid sense, such as are rarely combined ; 
 she was practical, resourceful, and, in its best and highest sense, a 
 woman of the world. How interested she was in others ! I cherish some 
 of her dear letters, full of minute and cordial inquiries as to my literary life 
 and success, suggestions for articles, references on this subject or on that, 
 carefully collated, for she was an omnivorous reader with a prodigious 
 memory for facts. Then how genial, how simple, how hospitable she was ! 
 The hours flew on those too rare occasions when I called on her at Drum- 
 condra. Her house, so cosy, so spotless, so well-ordered ; the cheery 
 
 1 To the memory of Dr. and Mrs. Atkinson the committee of Glasnevin 
 Cemetery have erected a monument in the form of an ancient Irish cross. 
 Announcing their attention to Mrs. William Stanley, Dr. Atkinson's 
 sister, the secretary wrote : 
 
 "In testimony of their respect and esteem for Dr. Atkinson, and for 
 the amiable and gifted lady who was for so many happy years the partner 
 of his life, the committee are having erected on the grave of the gentle and 
 accomplished biographer of Mary Aikenhead a suitable monument as a 
 permanent record of her life and of her work."
 
 xxiv MEMOIR 
 
 luncheon-parties she delighted to give, whereat one was always sure to 
 meet someone worth knowing ; her knowledge of men and things, her 
 large - heartedness, her conversational gifts, her sympathy, all had a 
 fascination. Alas ! that no future visits to Dublin will hold the pleasure of 
 seeing her in store. 
 
 ROSA MULHOLLAND GILBERT. 
 
 VILLA XOVA, BLACKROCK, DUBLIN, 
 15/7* October 1894.
 
 EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 "Father of the Gael, 
 Last Father of the Gael of Erinn ! " 
 
 SIXTY or seventy years ago the wild and not very picturesque 
 region that forms the extreme south-western part of the county 
 of Clare was, to all intents and purposes, as far removed from 
 any centre of life, and as much forgotten by the rest of the 
 world, as if the lonely ocean and the sea-like river broke upon 
 its eastern boundaries as well as upon the desolate shores that 
 fringe the moorland waste on every other side. Since Ludlow, 
 at the head of the Cromwellian forces, besieged the castle that 
 still keeps its hold on the craggy eminence overhanging the 
 little bay of Carrigaholt, the surrounding district had remained 
 unvisited, that is to say, unmolested, by the stranger. The 
 peninsula was left in the possession of its scattered population, 
 who tilled here and there, and much in the fashion of their 
 Dalcassian forefathers, a soil not productive enough to tempt 
 the cupidity of rack-renting landlords, or afford an adequate 
 return for the tithe-proctor's visitation. The peasantry, inured 
 to the boisterous winds, moist with sea-spray, that swept over 
 the treeless expanse, led a healthy and laborious existence, and 
 were as content with their humble lot as if they dwelt in the 
 midst of softer scenes. 
 
 If these " west heaths beside the sea " were dreary at times 
 in their colourless uniformity, there was not wanting to the 
 landscape that stern sublimity which solitary nature assumes. 
 Cloudland and the world of waters, in magnificent and change-
 
 2 EUGENE 0' CURRY 
 
 ful aspect, broke the monotony of the scene ; and the un- 
 paralleled splendour of the sunsets that brighten these western 
 shores made compensation for the absence of pastoral richness 
 and woodland beauty. With all its desolation, the territory 
 was well-peopled with the past. The local saints had left 
 their memories and even their footsteps on the strand ; the 
 M'Mahons and the O'Briens were fondly remembered as 
 heroes of bygone days ; and when at night the roar of the 
 Atlantic was heard along the cliffs, and the storm burst over 
 the land, the old folk, safely housed in their low-roofed cabins, 
 believed that Lord Clare and his Yellow Dragoons would 
 traverse then in ghostly array the lonely plain, and disappear 
 at dawn into the surges off Carrigaholt. 
 
 Nothing occurred to change the state of affairs until the 
 great war which threatened the ruin of Europe inaugurated an 
 era of unwonted prosperity for Ireland, and produced a beneficial 
 effect even in this remote quarter of the island. The prospect 
 of commensurate and immediate reward a powerful stimulus 
 to the Gaelic mind at all times now proved an irresistible 
 incentive to exertion ; and with wheat at five pounds the 
 barrel, and a ready market within reach, the men of the West 
 were cheered on in their resolute struggle with a marshy sur- 
 face and a stiff subsoil. A considerable part of the moorland 
 was brought into cultivation ; the farmers became a substantial 
 race, and plenty as well as peace reigned in the West. The 
 Church by law established suddenly remembered this obscure 
 corner of the vineyard ; and, though it was not considered 
 necessary to erect a house of worship for the three or four 
 Protestant families discovered to exist about Kilrush, it was 
 nevertheless judged expedient to look after the tithes, which 
 thenceforth were levied regularly, and auctioned, after the 
 odious custom of the time. 
 
 Isolated though the people had been for generations, they 
 had not lapsed into barbarism. Naturally intelligent and fond 
 of learning, they had made the most of their scant opportunities, 
 and had shown an eagerness in " the pursuit of knowledge 
 under difficulties " both commendable and extraordinary. In 
 the old Irish fashion, the information possessed by one genera- 
 tion was faithfully handed down to the next, and every remnant 
 of the ancient literature was transmitted as a precious inherit- 
 ance. Traditional lore and time-honoured usage were pre-
 
 EUGENE O^ CURRY 3 
 
 served with the carefulness that might be expected from the 
 population of Clare the last county in Ireland which was 
 governed by the Brehon Laws administered by native judges. 
 Many of the farmers had in their possession valuable Irish 
 manuscripts, transmitted to them by their ancestors, who, 
 owing to their fortunate obscurity and their settlement in a 
 barren sea-bound tract, had been able to retain these heir- 
 looms at a time when the possession of an Irish book made 
 the owner a suspected person, and was often the cause of his 
 
 rum. 
 
 At the period to which we are now referring, schoolmasters 
 had become scarce, and the classics, once generally cultivated 
 in that part of the country, had ceased to be taught. But the 
 scholars of Carrigaholt were equal to the emergency, and it 
 was the custom of the young men, the farmers' sons, to meet 
 alternately in each other's houses in the winter nights, make 
 common stock of whatever knowledge they possessed, and save 
 themselves from the reproach of being illiterate by forming a 
 school for mutual instruction. The country people in the 
 genuinely Celtic parts of Ireland have from time immemorial 
 been accustomed to gather in the long winter evenings round 
 the hearths, which are frequented by the best story-tellers and 
 the best singers ; but on the occasions of which we are speak- 
 ing the meetings were of quite a different nature. The young 
 fellows assembled to teach themselves arithmetic, geography, 
 book-keeping, and English grammar, to practise reading and 
 writing, and more especially to read Irish. Each had his 
 speciality in which he excelled ; and they formed on the whole 
 an excellent sort of school, carried on without the aid of a 
 schoolmaster. The expense of candlelight was fairly divided 
 by the system of rotation in the place of meeting, and one 
 book on each subject generally sufficed for the whole class, for 
 books were exceedingly scarce in those days, especially in 
 Carrigaholt. We have been told that all the members of this 
 excellent class were, in after life, very successful in their 
 
 1 See introduction to The Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish. 
 Professor W. K. Sullivan adds, that in some parts of the country the 
 tradition of the danger incurred by having Irish manuscripts lived down 
 to within his own memory, and that he had seen Irish manuscripts that 
 had been buried until the writing had almost faded, and the margins rotted 
 away, to avoid the danger which their discovery would entail at the visit of 
 the local yeomanry.
 
 4 EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 respective careers, humble careers of course for most of 
 them, hut we know that one of the number eventually rose 
 to very high distinction, and came to occupy a post of great 
 public honour, and great public utility in the literature of his 
 country. 
 
 This young man was Eugene O'Curry, the third son of Owen 
 (or Eugene) O'Curry, better known in the country as Owen 
 Mor, or Big Owen, a name he would have been fully entitled 
 to on account of his stalwart frame and capacious nature, even 
 if the affix " Mor " had not been transmitted by his Dalcassian 
 ancestors and borne by the family for many centuries. The 
 Dalcassian tribes located in Clare were, it will be remembered, 
 descended from a celebrated scholar and Druid who lived in 
 the fifth century. The family of O'Curry (O' Comhraidhe, "the 
 taker of trophies ") was one of those tribes, and in Owen Mor's 
 time was nearly related to another family of the same descent, 
 bearing the name of O'Scully (O' Scolaidhe, "the scholar"). 
 Owen Mor's avocation, like that of his neighbours, was agricul- 
 tural. His farmhouse stood in the hamlet of Dunaha, on the 
 shore of the broad estuary of the Shannon ; the parish or 
 district being called Dunaha or Carrigaholt. There dwelt 
 Owen in rustic comfort with his wife and daughter and four 
 sons. He was much respected in the country, and was not 
 the less popular for being a jovial companion as well as a good 
 neighbour. Nor was it forgotten that his father, Melachlin 
 Mor O'Curry, had, during the dreadful famine of 1742, proved 
 himself a devoted friend to the people, feeding the starving 
 peasants, visiting the fever-stricken families, and, when all 
 failed and death struck down so many that even the church- 
 yards could not receive the dead, giving up a part of his own 
 farm and having it consecrated as a cemetery. Owen Mor 
 had a thorough knowledge of the antiquities and traditions of 
 the country, and dearly loved his native tongue. He was an 
 accomplished reader of Irish a matter of no easy acquisition, 
 owing to the peculiar difficulties of Gaelic orthography. He 
 had a fine collection of manuscripts, inherited from his fore- 
 fathers, or otherwise acquired, which formed in fact a little 
 library, numbering more than fifty books. 
 
 It was a great occasion, and one not unfrequently enjoyed, 
 when the neighbours if the dwellers in the homesteads scattered 
 over the moor might so be called gathered round Owen's
 
 EUGENE O 'CURRY 5 
 
 blazing hearth to hear the farmer read some page of national 
 history, literature, or legend from a time-stained manuscript of 
 his own collection, or from a precious relic of antiquity lent to 
 him by a friend ; for so highly was Owen's scholarship reputed, 
 that any manuscript in the country would have been freely 
 intrusted to his care. Owen was, moreover, gifted with a 
 good musical ear, and a remarkably melodious voice. He was 
 particular in his selection of songs, and would sing nothing 
 but the finest Irish poetry set to the old airs of the country. 
 The so-called Ossianic poems were his favourites, and these he 
 sang to the simple melancholy strains to which from time 
 immemorial they had been wedded. 1 A beautiful ancient 
 hymn to the Blessed Virgin, at the least seven hundred 
 years old, used to be sung almost every evening by Owen 
 Mor. 
 
 These evening entertainments had the best and most refining 
 influence ; and doubtless no body of savans ever broke up an 
 academic meeting better satisfied with the way they had passed 
 the evening than did the men of Carrigaholt when they stood 
 up beneath Owen's humble roof and exchanged the customary 
 farewell before dispersing across the solitary moor. The enter- 
 tainer himself would finish the evening, as it was his wont to do 
 on ordinary occasions, by reciting the rosary with his family. 
 In this matter, too, the giving out of the rosary, Owen Mor 
 excelled. He was always called upon to do so on Sundays 
 while the congregation awaited the arrival of the priest who 
 was to say mass in the neighbouring chapel if the word 
 chapel could be applied to the mud house, without window 
 
 1 "I have heard," says Professor O'Curry in one of his lectures, " that 
 there was about the time that I was born, and of course beyond my re- 
 collection, a man named Anthony O'Brien, a schoolmaster, who spent 
 much of his time in my father's house, who was the best singer of Oisin's 
 poems that his contemporaries had ever heard. He had a rich and power- 
 ful voice, and often, on a calm summer day, he used to go with a party into 
 a boat on the Lower Shannon, at my native place, where the river is eight 
 miles wide, and having rowed to the middle of the river, they used to lie 
 on their oars there, to uncork their whisky jar and make themselves 
 happy, on which occasions Anthony O'Brien was always prepared to sing 
 his choicest pieces, among which were no greater favourites than Oisin's 
 poems. So powerful was the singer's voice that it often reached the shore 
 on either side of the boat in Clare and Kerry, and often called the labour- 
 ing men and women from the neighbouring fields on both sides down to 
 the water's edge to enjoy the strains."
 
 6 EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 or doorcase, in which the holy sacrifice used to be offered in 
 those days. 
 
 Meanwhile Eugene l grew up, sharing with the other children 
 the loving care of the good notable mother, listening delightedly 
 to the Irish readings and the beautiful old songs, and assiduously 
 attending the evening classes at which the lads sharpened each 
 other's wits in their eagerness to obtain and impart informa- 
 tion. We strongly suspect that young Eugene O'Curry was 
 the chief organiser of that original system of instruction. At 
 all events he was the most indefatigable of the class in his 
 efforts at self-improvement. He has been heard in aftertimes 
 to relate how, in his eagerness to acquire a knowledge of the 
 English language, he would find some excuse to approach 
 respectable persons frequenting the neighbourhood for sea- 
 bathing, in order that he might hear their pronunciation of 
 English words. It was an ingenious way to obtain accurate 
 knowledge, and we may be sure that his young companions 
 profited at their next evening meeting by the experience he 
 had thus obtained. But Irish was his favourite study. He 
 early acquired a proficiency in reading, and his love of Irish 
 poetry, Irish antiquities, and Irish senachies became developed 
 almost from his boyhood. This love he indulged by copying 
 all the manuscripts to which he could obtain access; he 
 learned from the beginning to write a clear, bold, and beauti- 
 fully-formed hand in Irish characters ; and the large collection 
 he formed by his own labours in transcribing was greatly in- 
 creased by the acquisition of many Irish manuscripts which he 
 procured in the neighbourhood. Eugene, however, was not 
 allowed to become a dull boy by too much study. He had to 
 take his turn at the spade, and to lend a hand like the rest in 
 all the farming operations of the season. Moreover, he shared 
 in the sports of the country, although, owing to a slight lame- 
 ness, which afterwards considerably increased, he did not 
 become an adept like his brothers in the manly exercises of 
 hurling and football. The greatest delight of the lads, how- 
 ever, was an expedition now and then to the races of Bally- 
 bunnion, the voyage to the Kerry side of the Shannon on 
 
 1 Eugene was popularly called "Owen Oge," or Young Owen. He 
 was born, we believe, in 1796; but his birthday he could not himself 
 tell. The family register was lost in a fire that broke out in the Dunaha 
 farmhouse, and destroyed a number of Irish manuscripts.
 
 EUGENE O 'CURRY 7 
 
 these occasions being accomplished in a canoe equipped 
 precisely in the fashion of ten centuries ago. 1 In this frail 
 craft, constructed of wicker-work, covered with horse hides, 
 and manned with three rowers having two oars each, the 
 Carrigaholt lads would, with astonishing rapidity, cross the 
 estuary of the Shannon, glide down the shore -line on the 
 opposite side, round Beal Point, heedless of the ocean swell, 
 and shoot into the little loch at Ballybunnion, to keep high 
 holiday at the races. 
 
 Time advanced ; and when Eugene and his brothers had 
 nearly attained to manhood, the dispersion of the family 
 became inevitable. On the Continent peace had been pro- 
 claimed, and in Ireland the " war prices," which had made it 
 a comparatively easy matter to support a large family on the 
 produce of an inconsiderable farm, were no longer to be ob- 
 tained. Eugene went to Limerick, where his brother Malachy 
 had already settled. After a time he was offered a situation in 
 the County Lunatic Asylum, and for several years he fulfilled 
 
 1 We remember to have read some years ago, in one of the serial 
 publications of the day, a most interesting paper entitled " St. Patrick's 
 Hill," and understood to have been written by Mr. Haverty, the author 
 of The History of Ireland. In the paper referred to, an account was 
 given of the passage across the Shannon in these wicker boats of the 
 inhabitants of this very district (anciently, Corca-Baiskinn), who, having 
 heard of St. Patrick's beneficent mission, and being anxious to receive 
 baptism at his hands, resolved to seek the apostle, who was then preach- 
 ing in that part of Munster lying on the south bank of the great river. 
 Weary after the day's preaching, the saint was unwilling to commence 
 the instruction of the strangers when, in the evening, they presented 
 themselves before him. But they besought him not to delay, seeing 
 that their houses had been left unprotected, and their boats were lying 
 at a distance on the shore. The holy man yielded to their entreaties, 
 taught them the doctrines of the Christian faith, and baptized them 
 in a little stream flowing into the Shannon. In their joy, the men 
 of Corca-Baiskinn longed to have their wives and children share the 
 blessing they themselves had obtained, and they invited the saint to 
 visit their country. St. Patrick found it impossible to do so, and gave 
 them many reasons for not complying with their entreaty, although 
 they had offered to take with them in their boats the apostle and all 
 his followers. "But," said the saint, "if there be any place near 
 whence I may be able to see your country, lead me to it." They took 
 him to a hill from the summit of which he could see the entire land 
 of Corca-Baiskinn. Solemnly he blessed the country ; he spoke to 
 them of the great saint (Senan) who should arise among them, and gave 
 them a priest and deacon, Romans by birth, to instruct their people in 
 the faith.
 
 8 EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 in that institution the duties of a post requiring great patience 
 and intelligence, and the possession of kind as well as con- 
 scientious feelings. Here he was subsequently joined by his 
 favourite brother Anthony, for whom he procured a situation 
 in the same establishment. Owen Mor O'Curry, who was in 
 the habit of paying an annual visit to his sons in Limerick, 
 removed there altogether about a year before his death. 
 Eugene, during all this time, had contrived to add, by every 
 opportunity that offered, to his stock of Irish manuscripts, as 
 well as to his own command of the antiquarian, genealogical, 
 and poetic information which his knowledge of those manu- 
 scripts opened up to him. But as he said to a friend, 1 not 
 very long before he was himself called out of the world, " It 
 was not until my father's death that I fully awoke to the 
 passion of gathering those old fragments of our history. I 
 knew that he was a link between our day and a time when 
 everything was broken, scattered, and hidden ; and when I 
 called to mind the knowledge he possessed of every old ruin, 
 every old manuscript, every old legend and tradition in 
 Thomond, I was suddenly filled with consternation to think 
 that all was gone for ever, and no record made of it." Thence- 
 forth every moment he could spare his evening leisure and 
 his Sunday recreation were given up to antiquarian study 
 and investigation. 
 
 Just then it happened that, in a circle widely remote from 
 Eugene's humble sphere, the deepest interest had been 
 awakened in the very subjects which the scholar of Carrigaholt 
 had been pursuing with such ardour. The Royal Irish 
 Academy, mainly incited by Dr. Petrie's antiquarian and 
 enlightened spirit, became anxious to increase their collection 
 of Irish manuscripts, and intrusted him with a commission to 
 search for rare and valuable works of ancient literature and 
 history, and to purchase them for the institution. Already 
 some important manuscripts had been obtained, among the 
 rest, an autograph copy of the second part of the Annals of the 
 Four Masters, transcripts had been made of valuable remains 
 preserved in private libraries, and eventually several entire 
 collections were secured. An eminent publishing firm in 
 Dublin had shown great energy in searching for these dispersed 
 
 1 The writer of an obituary notice of Eugene O'Curry in the Morning 
 News.
 
 EUGENE O 'CURRY 9 
 
 relics of antiquity, and were already forming a collection, sub- 
 sequently purchased by the Academy. Mr. George Smith, a 
 partner in the house, used frequently to visit the country parts 
 of Ireland, with a view of obtaining information of a kind likely 
 to aid him in discovering and securing the papers or parch- 
 ments he was in search of. On one of these excursions, 
 happening to call on the medical superintendent of the 
 establishment in which Eugene O'Curry was employed, he said 
 to his friend, in the course of conversation, that if he could 
 meet with an Irish scholar who would give him some informa- 
 tion and help him in the search he was engaged in, it would be 
 a fortunate circumstance. " I have here the very man you 
 want," replied the doctor, and Eugene O'Curry was introduced. 
 The latter entered heartily into the subject, materially served 
 the collector of manuscripts, and the foundation of a lasting 
 friendship was laid between the two. 
 
 Meanwhile the Ordnance Survey of Ireland, that stupendous 
 undertaking, so happily begun, so disastrously interrupted, was 
 being carried on with enthusiastic energy under the direction, 
 in their different departments, of Captain Larcom, Lieutenant 
 Drummond, and Dr. Petrie. It was the desire and determina- 
 tion of the chief men engaged, that the Irish Survey should be 
 more general and perfect than any work of the kind that had 
 ever been attempted. While Drummond, encamped with his 
 staff of engineers on the northern mountains, and flashing his 
 newly-discovered light from height to height, was forming "a 
 school not merely of geodetical, but of meteorological science," 
 Captain Larcom, to whom the superintendence of the topo- 
 graphical department had been intrusted, found new paths of 
 inquiry opening at every step, new sources of information 
 springing up in answer to every search. " He saw," says Dr. 
 Stokes in his extremely interesting memoir of Petrie, " that, 
 however valuable the accurate surveying and mapping of each 
 county, as well as the description of its geological features, 
 might be, the work would be deficient if it did not embrace all 
 attainable knowledge of its topography, including its natural 
 products, its history and antiquities, economic state, and social 
 condition. This great and comprehensive thought, this truly 
 imperial idea, he lost no time in putting into effect. A staff 
 of civil assistants was organised, to some of whom the duty of 
 making social and statistical inquiries was intrusted ; while to
 
 io EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 others, who were Irish scholars, the more difficult task of 
 orthographical research, with a view to obtaining the correct 
 names of the baronies, townlands, and parishes throughout the 
 country, was allotted. The investigation of all existing remains, 
 whether pagan or Christian, the cahirs, raths, tumuli, crom- 
 lechs, and other monuments of primitive times ; the lowly bee- 
 hive houses of the early saints of Ireland, their oratories, 
 churches, towers, crosses, and monumental stones ; and, to 
 come to a later period, the description and history of the Celtic 
 and Norman- castles, and of the later monasteries and abbeys, 
 was required. A memoir embracing all these subjects was to 
 accompany the map of each county ; so that, when completed, 
 the work of the Ordnance Survey would embrace, not the 
 geographical features of the country alone, but also the geo- 
 logy, natural history, ancient and modern records, antiquities, 
 economic state, and social condition of each and every barony, 
 townland, and parish throughout the length and breadth of 
 the land." 
 
 In carrying out this great work, the want was felt of an Irish 
 scholar who would be able to assist in establishing the names 
 proper to be put in the maps, and aid in deciphering the 
 manuscripts, a scholar acquainted with the early forms of the 
 Irish language, as well as with its later and popular variations. 
 Mr. George Smith remembered his friend O'Curry, and men- 
 tioned his extraordinary philological attainments to Dr. Petrie, 
 who was at the head of the antiquarian and literary department 
 of the Ordnance Memoir. The result was an invitation to 
 Eugene to come to Dublin, and his engagement in 1834 on 
 the great work of the day. In this employment his principal 
 associate was Dr. John O'Donovan, the distinguished Irish 
 scholar, topographer, and genealogist, with whom he was after- 
 wards intimately connected by family ties : the two anti- 
 quaries having married two sisters, natives of Clare. Dr. 
 Petrie's staff likewise included Mr. Wakeman, Messrs. O'Keeffe 
 and O'Connor, that extraordinary genius, Clarence Mangan, 
 and Anthony O'Curry, who followed his brother to Dublin. 
 Eugene's was not altogether office-work. During the summer 
 he was constantly travelling through the country, collecting 
 information for the department. His duties likewise led him 
 into the profoundest researches in Irish manuscript-lore in the 
 great libraries of Trinity College, the Royal Irish Academy,
 
 EUGENE O' CURRY 11 
 
 the Bodleian Library, and the British Museum. Everything 
 that could throw light on the ancient topography of the 
 country, or connect historical events, or historical persons or 
 families, with the several localities, was sought out, and a 
 wonderful light was all at once let in upon the ancient history 
 and antiquities of this country, hitherto distorted or disfigured 
 by visionaries, and doubted, despised, or ignored by the 
 learned. It was during the period of his engagement in the 
 antiquarian department of the Ordnance Survey that he dis- 
 covered the value of the Festology of St. Aengus, composed at 
 the end of the eighth or the beginning of the ninth century, 
 and brought the contents to bear with important results on 
 the topographical section of the Survey. 
 
 The Ordnance Memoir of Londonderry was published in 
 1839, and its appearance was hailed with approval by all classes 
 of the community at home, and by the learned bodies in other 
 countries. Almost immediately, however, the work of the 
 topographical department of the Survey was suspended, and in 
 a short time it was finally interrupted. The Treasury demurred 
 at the cost ; the revival of old animosities that might result 
 from indicating the ancient territories, and the danger of re- 
 opening questions of Irish local history, were urged as objec- 
 tions to the completion of the work ; and although remon- 
 strances were made on every side, and a mass of evidence in 
 favour of the continuance of the undertaking was elicited in 
 the course of the parliamentary inquiry into the Ordnance 
 Memoir of Ireland, all was in vain. The staff was discharged, 
 and the vast mass of material which had been collected, in- 
 cluding, it is said, " upwards of four hundred quarto volumes of 
 letters and documents relating to the topography, language, 
 history, antiquities, productions, and social state of almost 
 every county of Ireland," were stowed away. 
 
 It was shortly before the breaking-up of the historic depart- 
 ment of the Ordnance Survey that Thomas Moore, three 
 volumes of whose history had recently been published, paid 
 Mr. O'Curry an unexpected visit at the Royal Irish Academy, 
 then in Grafton Street. " At the time of his visit," says the 
 antiquary in one of his lectures, " I happened to have before 
 me, on my desk, the Books of Ballymote and Lecain, the 
 Leabhar Breac, the Annals of the Four Masters, and many 
 other ancients books for historial research and reference. I
 
 12 EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 had never before seen Moore, and after a brief introduction 
 and explanation of my occupation by Dr. Petrie, and seeing 
 the formidable array of so many dark and time-worn volumes 
 by which I was surrounded, he looked a little disconcerted, 
 but after a while plucked up courage to open the Book of 
 Ballymote and ask what it was. Dr. Petrie and myself then 
 entered into a short explanation of the history and character 
 of the books then present, as well as of ancient Gaedhlic docu- 
 ments in general. Moore listened with great attention, alter- 
 nately scanning the books and myself; and then asked me in 
 a serious tone if I understood them, and how I had learned to 
 do so. Having satisfied him upon these points, he turned to 
 Dr. Petrie and said : ' Petrie, these huge tomes could not have 
 been written by fools or for any foolish purpose. I never knew 
 anything about them before, and I had no right to have under- 
 taken the History of Ireland? " 
 
 When the work of the Ordnance Memoir was discontinued, 
 Mr. O'Curry was engaged by the Royal Irish Academy in pre- 
 paring catalogues of their Irish manuscripts, and by Trinity 
 College in transcribing important Gaelic works. He also 
 copied and prepared for the press the Irish texts of the Annals 
 of the Four Masters, 1 and of other important works brought 
 out by the Irish Archaeological and Celtic Societies. It was 
 in the year 1844 that our Irish scholars became aware of the 
 treasures of antiquarian lore preserved in the Burgundian 
 Library at Brussels. Mr. Laurence Waldron, at that time 
 travelling on the Continent, examined these manuscripts at 
 Mr. O'Curry's request, and brought home tracings which 
 enabled the latter to identify many important and ancient 
 works. The Rev. Dr. Todd, of Trinity College, immediately 
 visited Brussels for the purpose of making a more particular 
 examination of the manuscripts ; and the result was the con- 
 firmation of Mr. O'Curry's conclusions, through whose instru- 
 mentality an effort was made to obtain a loan of some of these 
 manuscripts from the Burgundian Library. His Majesty, the 
 
 1 Dr. O'Donovan's edition of the Annals of the Four Masters, published 
 in 1851, was brought out at the sole risk and expense of Mr. George 
 Smith. "There is," says Mr. O'Curry, "no instance that I know of, in 
 any country, of a work so vast being undertaken, much less of any com- 
 pleted in a style so perfect and so beautiful, by the enterprise of a private 
 publisher."
 
 EUGENE O'CURRY 13 
 
 King of the Belgians, with great liberality, permitted the manu- 
 scripts asked for to be sent over through the Belgian ambas- 
 sador in London and the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Some 
 of these were copied by Mr. O'Curry for Dr. Todd's Library, 
 and at his expense, no public body being willing to undertake 
 the cost of such a work. Trinity College had copies made of 
 others by the same hand ; and Mr. O'Curry, distressed to see 
 O'Clery's collection of the lives of the Irish saints returned 
 uncopied to Belgium, because no one would undertake the 
 expense of having them transcribed, undertook himself the 
 cost of having eight of the number copied. 
 
 In 1849 Mr. O'Curry, having been summoned to give evi- 
 dence before the Public Library Committee of the House of 
 Commons, paid his first visit to the British Museum. The 
 collection of Irish manuscripts was freely and courteously 
 thrown open to his inspection. Among the volumes laid before 
 him was a thin quarto, bound in brass, which he guessed must 
 be a work of no insignificant character, and which he hoped 
 might prove to be one of the many ancient books which had 
 long been missing. " Full of expectation," says Mr. O'Curry, 
 " I opened the volume, and threw my eyes rapidly over the 
 first page, from which, though much soiled and almost illeg- 
 ible, I discovered that I had come upon a Life of St. Patrick. 
 Being well acquainted with all the Irish copies of this life 
 known to exist here at home, I immediately found this to be 
 one that was strange to me, and it at once occurred to me that 
 it was a copy of the long-lost Tripartite. Under this impres- 
 sion, I called for Colgan's Trias Thaumaturga, which having 
 got, I at once proceeded to a comparison ; and although I am 
 but little acquainted with the Latin language, I soon found 
 my expectations realised, for it was unmistakably a fine old 
 copy of the Tripartite Life of St. Patrick" The copy Mr. 
 O'Curry had before him was found on examination to have 
 been made in 1477. The original Life is of such antiquity 
 that in the Middle Ages it required an interlineal gloss, 
 by the most learned masters, to make it intelligible to their 
 pupils. 
 
 During these years of patient research and ceaseless labour, 
 the Irish scholar was to be found almost daily in the library 
 of the Royal Irish Academy. Many of our readers will doubt- 
 less remember seeing him there, and will recognise the truth
 
 14 EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 of the picture left to us by another distinguished Irishman. 
 " In the recess of a distant window," says Thomas D'Arcy 
 M'Gee, " there was a half-bald head, bent busily over a desk, 
 the living master-key to all this voiceless learning. It was 
 impossible not to be struck at the first glance with the long, 
 oval, well-spanned cranium as it glistened in the streaming 
 sunlight. And when the absorbed scholar lifted up his face, 
 massive as became such a capital, but lighted with every kindly 
 inspiration, it was quite impossible not to feel sympathetically 
 drawn towards the man. There, as we often saw him in the 
 flesh, we still see him in fancy. Behind that desk, equipped 
 with ink-stands, acids, and microscope, and covered with half- 
 legible vellum folios, rose cheerfully and buoyantly to instruct 
 the ignorant, to correct the prejudiced, or to bear with the 
 petulant visitor, the first of living Celtic scholars and palaeo- 
 graphers, Eugene O'Curry. . . . Ideas of greatness may and 
 do differ. But if the highest moral purposes, sustained by the 
 highest moral courage, constitute grounds and a standard; 
 if the rarest union of patient labour and sleepless enthusiasm 
 have any claim to be so considered ; if a continuous career 
 of recovery and discovery, in a long - abandoned domain of 
 learned inquiry, may be called proofs of greatness, then 
 assuredly, when Ireland counts her famous sons of this age, 
 that indomitable academician's name will be pronounced 
 among the very first of her magnates." 
 
 Eugene O'Curry was elected a member of the Council of 
 the Celtic Society in 1852, and a member of the Royal Irish 
 Academy in 1853, and in the same year was engaged under 
 the Brehon Law Commission, in conjunction with Dr. 
 O'Donovan, on the transcription and translation of the ancient 
 laws of Ireland, the originals of which he had in great part 
 discovered in the libraries of Trinity College and the British 
 Museum, and the language of which he was the first scholar 
 in modern times able to decipher and explain. From that 
 time until his death, nine years later, he took a most important 
 part in all the great national undertakings of the day. Nothing 
 of importance in any of these matters was ever finally dis- 
 posed of without reference to his judgment and his great 
 knowledge of the structure and resources of the ancient Irish 
 language. His knowledge and his judgment always went 
 pari passu. If the one was profound, the other was always
 
 EUGENE 0' CURRY 15 
 
 accurate, and nothing was more remarkable about him than 
 the invariable wisdom and sound sense with which he formed 
 his opinions on the early history and antiquities of Ireland. 
 
 But there was another matter of great importance connected 
 with the literary labours and character of Eugene O'Curry. 
 He was not only a profound Irish scholar, but he loved his 
 country fervently, and he was a sound and faithful Catholic. 
 This was most useful at a period which may be called that of 
 the restoration of true Irish learning ; and although we owe a 
 debt of eternal respect and gratitude to all those able scholars 
 who laboured for the revival of true Irish philological and 
 archaeological learning, it could not be expected that they 
 would all feel a Catholic interest in the subject ; and in the 
 elucidation of an antiquity above all things so essentially 
 Catholic as that of Ireland is, that kind of interest was after 
 all very material. 
 
 In this Catholic sense O'Curry endeavoured to keep all 
 straight. In this, his sound judgment, which all so highly 
 respected, was invaluable. He prevented a great many mis- 
 takes and misrepresentations from creeping in not all we 
 would have wished perhaps, but still a great many. It is 
 known that some pages were cancelled, on his remonstrance, 
 from an important archaeological work just ready for the press. 
 The learned author or editor more learned, however, in other 
 branches of knowledge than in Irish lore fell into the mistake 
 of supposing that the ancient Christian Irish were almost 
 ignorant of the Blessed Virgin, and venerated their own St. 
 Bridget instead. O'Curry exposed the error in sufficient time; 
 and we have got the Liber Hymnormn free from that mistake, 
 on his account. Many of our readers will probably remember 
 having seen the very ancient Irish litany of the Blessed 
 Virgin which O'Curry discovered, and which, from its peculiar 
 style and beauty, as well as from its great antiquity, excited 
 a good deal of interest at the time it was translated and 
 published. 
 
 But the light which O'Curry was mainly instrumental in 
 throwing upon the Christian antiquities and history of ancient 
 Ireland could not be adequately described in this brief notice. 
 Among the matters which might be pointed out under this 
 head are the frequent intrusion into ecclesiastical offices of 
 lay occupants, and the greatly misunderstood history of the
 
 16 EUGENE O } CURRY* 
 
 Culdees, about which we are so deeply indebted to the great 
 learning and the honest and indefatigable researches of Dr. 
 Reeves of Armagh. On one occasion, at a crowded meeting 
 of the Royal Irish Academy, when the learned members were 
 all in the wrong about the laymen who, at a period of great 
 disorder, assumed the titles, or rather the emoluments, of 
 abbots and archbishops of Armagh, the wise and venerable 
 scholar of Carrigaholt was the only man to rise and dispel the 
 error which prevailed on the subject, and to silence for ever 
 the slander which enemies would try to fix on the ancient 
 Irish Church in connection with the scandal of these lay 
 intruders. 
 
 O'Curry did not relish many of the theories of ethnologists, 
 in which the ancient traditions of a country are set aside for 
 dogmatic conclusions drawn from supposed scientific facts. 
 He had no great faith, for instance, in the broad distinction 
 drawn between the flint and bronze periods, so far as Irish 
 antiquities were concerned; and used to relate how he him- 
 self, in his boyhood, knew a blacksmith in the primitive 
 locality of Carrigaholt who still used some stone hammers in his 
 forge a terrible anachronism in the eyes of an ethnologist 
 who has such clearly-defined and positive notions about the 
 relative place of the stone, bronze, and iron ages ! Here 
 were the stone and the iron ages actually confounded in 
 our own times, pretty much as geologists find their theories 
 deranged by an unexpected inversion of order in the geological 
 strata. 
 
 Irish music was a subject that greatly interested Mr. 
 O'Curry. He was as much an enthusiast as Dr. Petrie himself, 
 whom he materially aided in collecting the old airs of the 
 country ; and he had an excellent memory and a most 
 accurate ear. Many an evening Dr. Petrie spent in his 
 friend's house, noting the tunes which the latter would whistle 
 from recollection. On these occasions Eugene would often 
 exclaim, " Oh, if my father were living now, what could he not 
 do for us ! " This delightful pursuit was the occasion of 
 interesting excursions, undertaken by the friends into remote 
 parts of the country. In the Memoir of Petrie we find a 
 picturesque account of one of these expeditions, when the 
 author of that work, in company with the two scholars we 
 have named and some other friends, spent a fortnight in the
 
 EUGENE O^ CURRY 17 
 
 islands of Arran. Dr. Stokes tells us of the way in which the 
 search for old Irish music was conducted on this occasion : 
 " Inquiries having been made as to the names of persons 
 ' who had music,' that is to say, who were known as possess- 
 ing and singing some of the old airs, an appointment was 
 made with one or two of them to meet the members of the 
 party at some cottage near to the little village of Kilronan, 
 which was their headquarters. To this cottage, when evening 
 fell, Petrie, with his manuscript music-book and violin, and 
 always accompanied by his friend O'Curry, used to proceed. 
 Nothing could exceed the strange picturesqueness of the 
 scenes which night after night were thus presented. On 
 approaching the house, always lighted up by a blazing turf 
 fire, it was seen surrounded by the islanders ; while its interior 
 was crowded with figures, the rich colours of whose dresses, 
 brightened by the firelight, showed with a strange vividness 
 and variety, while their fine countenances were all animated 
 with curiosity and pleasure. It would have required a 
 Rembrandt to paint the scene. The minstrel sometimes 
 an old woman, sometimes a beautiful girl or a young man 
 was seated on a low stool in the chimney-corner, while chairs 
 for Petrie and O'Curry were placed opposite ; the rest of the 
 crowded audience remaining standing. The song having been 
 given, O'Curry wrote the Irish words, when Petrie's work 
 began. The singer recommenced, stopping at a signal from 
 him at every two or three bars of the melody, to permit the 
 writing of the notes, and often repeating the passage until it 
 was correctly taken down ; and then going on with the melody, 
 exactly from the point where the singing was interrupted. The 
 entire air being at last obtained, the singer a second time 
 was called to give the song'continuously; and when all correc- 
 tions had been made, the violin an instrument of great 
 sweetness and power was produced, and the air played as 
 Petrie alone could play it, and often repeated. Never was the 
 inherent love of music among the Irish people more shown 
 than on this occasion : they listened with deep attention, 
 while their heartfelt pleasure was expressed less by exclama- 
 tions than by gestures ; and when the music ceased, a general 
 and murmured conversation, in their own language, took 
 place, which would continue until the next song was com- 
 menced."
 
 1 8 EUGENE O 'CURRY 
 
 During all these years Mr. O'Curry's labours were, to a 
 great extent, of the silent order. As he himself was fond of 
 saying, they were of the nature of underground work. He was 
 a pioneer, he would say, making clear the way for future 
 historians and archaeologists. When associated, as he gener- 
 ally was, with others, his was the most difficult and the least 
 obvious part of the task. So far was he from repining, so 
 little did he complain of the ill-paid drudgery that had fallen 
 to his lot, that he seemed to take it as a matter of course that 
 others should have the most prominent part in every under- 
 taking, and obtain the largest share of credit. There never 
 vois a more thoroughly modest man. He rated himself at the 
 lowest, but esteemed his work as of the noblest order. It 
 was enough for him to have the privilege of doing for his 
 country what no other living man had the vocation and the 
 capacity to do. How O'Curry should be affected by this 
 change or by that arrangement, concerned him very little ; but 
 whatever indicated progress in true learning, or held out a hope 
 of the future advancement of the race he loved so ardently, 
 was intensely interesting to him. When the Catholic Univer- 
 sity of Ireland was established (he tells us in the preface to his 
 Lectures on the Manuscript Materials of Irish History), and 
 its staff of professors from day to day announced in the 
 public papers, he felt the deepest anxiety as to who the Pro- 
 fessor of Irish History should be. He believed that Dr. 
 O'Donovan was the only man who could efficiently fall that 
 post ; but he was already engaged in Queen's College, Belfast. 
 The thought never once entered his mind that he should or 
 ought to be called to fill that important situation. He never 
 would have presumed to seek an honour he did not consider 
 himself worthy to receive. But Dr. Newman, who had deeply 
 at heart the encouragement of native literature and historic 
 and antiquarian studies, appointed to the Chair of Irish 
 History and Archaeology the silent worker, the truly modest 
 scholar, Eugene O'Curry. With characteristic diffidence the 
 new professor began the course of lectures, which the illus- 
 trious rector was resolved should be made available for 
 Celtic scholars in every part of the world as well as for the 
 students of the University. " Little indeed," says the lecturer, 
 " did it occur to me, on the occasion of my first timid appear- 
 ance in that chair, that the efforts of my feeble pen should
 
 EUGENE O^ CURRY 19 
 
 pass beyond the walls within which these lectures were de- 
 livered. There was, however, among my varying audience one 
 constant attendant, whose presence was both embarrassing and 
 encouraging to me, whose polite expressions at the conclusion 
 of each lecture I scarcely dared to receive as those of appro- 
 bation, but whose kindly sympathy practically exhibited itself, 
 not in mere words alone, but in the active encouragement he 
 never ceased to afford me as I went along; often, for example, 
 assuring me that I was not to be uneasy at the apparent short- 
 ness of a course of lectures, the preparation of which required 
 so much labour in a new field ; and assuring me that in his 
 eyes, and in the eyes of those who had committed the Uni- 
 versity to his charge, quantity was of far less importance than 
 accuracy in careful examination of the wide range of subjects 
 which it was my object to digest and arrange. At the con- 
 clusion of the course, however, this great scholar and pious 
 priest (for to whom can I allude but to our late illustrious 
 rector, the Rev. Dr. Newman ?) whose warmly felt and oft- 
 expressed sympathy with Erin, her wrongs and her hopes, as 
 well as her history, I am rejoiced to have an opportunity thus 
 publicly to acknowledge astonished me by announcing to me, 
 on the part of the University, that my poor lectures were 
 deemed worthy to be published at its expense. Nor can I 
 ever forget the warmth with which Dr. Newman congratulated 
 me on the termination of my first course, any more than the 
 thoughtfulness of a dear friend with which he encouraged and 
 advised me during the progress of what was to me so difficult 
 a task that, left to myself, I believe I should soon have sur- 
 rendered it in despair." 
 
 One of Dr. Newman's very last acts as rector of the 
 Catholic University, Professor W. K. Sullivan tells us, was to 
 hand him ^300 to commence the publication of the lectures 
 on the Manuscript Materials of Irish History. Soon after 
 the termination of this most important first series of lectures, 
 Professor O'Curry began a second course on the Manners and 
 Customs of the Ancient Irish. During the last few years of 
 his life he was anxiously and unceasingly occupied with this 
 work, and with his engagements under the Brehon Law Com- 
 mission. The recompense of his toilsome life barely afforded 
 a decent subsistence for the Gaelic scholar and his family. 
 He was content, however, and was happy as long as it pleased
 
 20 EUGENE O 'CURRY 
 
 Providence to leave him the wife and children, to whom he was 
 devotedly attached. But the inevitable hour of trial came, and 
 sorrow after sorrow had to be borne. Within a short time 
 death deprived him of his brother-in-law, Dr. O'Donovan, of 
 his wife and his two eldest sons. The laborious duties of his 
 daily life were no doubt a support to him in these sad days, 
 and a very necessary distraction. The consciousness of the 
 paramount importance of his work strengthened him to carry 
 it on with unflagging industry ; and labour for so noble an end 
 brought its immediate reward in the mental relief it afforded. 
 At no time of his life had he been fond of general society. 
 His surviving friends remember him, not as one among a crowd 
 of guests, but as the ripe scholar and genial man with whom 
 they used to enjoy a quiet but often memorable evening. 
 After the loss of his wife and eldest sons he retired still more 
 from society, and seldom left his home except to join for a few 
 hours the family circle of some particularly favoured friend. 
 It was at this period that the writer of the present notice 
 became acquainted with Professor O'Curry, as the guest of a 
 gentleman who had been introduced to him in connection with 
 an old and curious genealogy which the antiquary had come 
 upon in the course of his interminable researches. To this 
 gentleman's house the now venerable Irish scholar used not 
 unfrequently go. The atmosphere of the place seemed to suit 
 him, the entertainment being of an unpretending order, and 
 the company consisting of no more than two or three con- 
 genial and appreciative guests. How well we remember his 
 erect carriage, powerful frame, massive head, and serious, ex- 
 pressive face ! His voice was deep and gentle, and he spoke 
 with deliberation rather than vivacity. No one indeed had 
 less of the manner of an enthusiast than Eugene O'Curry. 
 The simplicity of his language and demeanour was not without 
 a charm, and it certainly was expressive of the steadfast truth- 
 fulness that was so fundamental a part of his character. His 
 talk on these occasions would be of the history and character- 
 istics of the old race ; of what was being done, and had yet to 
 be done, for the advancement of the country. Now and then, 
 when led to do so, he would relate some incident of his boy- 
 hood, illustrative of the condition of Ireland in those days ; or 
 would describe the scenery of his birthplace, the dangers of 
 the rock-bound coast, the thunderous dash of the Atlantic
 
 EUGENE 'CURRY 21 
 
 waves upon the cliffs of Kilkee. We learned to know the 
 Irish scholar in these evening conversations ; and when, not 
 long after, his character was sketched by one who thoroughly 
 knew and valued him, we felt that no truer description could 
 be given than that contained in the words we cannot now 
 refrain from quoting : " Cheerful, simple, and guileless as a 
 child, diffident and unostentatious, gentle, affectionate, un- 
 selfish, a nobler character, a purer spirit, than Eugene O'Curry 
 never breathed. His deep and earnest Catholic feeling, his 
 ardent love of Ireland, lit up the whole horizon of a life such 
 as would have been spent by other men in idle repinings and 
 vain reproaches of neglect. Even when he was most deeply 
 wronged, complaint was a stranger to his lips ; and the mem- 
 ories of a lifetime sixty-eight years may be boldly challenged 
 for a single instance where, by word or act, he was known to 
 wound another's feelings or hurt another's fame. He lived 
 and died an upright and honest man a sincere Christian, 
 1 without stain and without reproach.' He rose to honourable 
 distinction by no devious paths. Eame like his may be won 
 by genius, but affection such as that which surrounded Eugene 
 O'Curry is the tribute which virtue and worth alone can com- 
 mand." Friends were not wanting to the venerable scholar 
 among the younger men of the age ; friends who were so in 
 deed as well as in affection, whose delight it was to come to 
 the aid of the overtaxed giant, and to be a staff unto his steps. 
 Happily, many of these younger men survive to carry on the 
 work so dear to O'Curry, so unspeakably important to Ireland, 
 so vividly interesting to Celtic scholars in every part of the 
 world. But one has been lately called away whose devotion 
 to O'Curry was in the highest sense filial, and whose services 
 were of paramount value. If Mr. John Edward Pigot were 
 still amongst us, we could not say even thus much without the 
 risk of wounding a singularly sensitive nature ; for he was one 
 of those rare men in whom zeal for a noble cause is so absorb- 
 ing as to efface completely all considerations, and even the 
 very consciousness, of self. To have a thing well done that 
 appeared to him necessary or desirable, Mr. Pigot would spare 
 neither time nor toil ; all the energies of his mind, all the 
 resources of his intellect, would be devoted to the interests of 
 patriotism or friendship. Professor O'Curry's indebtedness to 
 this friend in the editing of the lectures on the Manuscript
 
 22 EUGENE O'CURRY 
 
 Materials of Irish History we have no means of estimating, 
 but we believe it to have been very great. How much his aid 
 was relied on in preparing for the press the second course of 
 lectures recently published is stated by Professor Sullivan in 
 more than one page of his masterly and erudite introduction to 
 the lectures on the Manners and Customs of the Ancient 
 Irish. In fact, Mr. Pigot's departure for India, when two-thirds 
 of the work had passed through the press, was a disaster that 
 put back the publication for a lengthened period. 
 
 Professor O'Curry was engaged in this last and most interest- 
 ing course of lectures when he was called out of the world. 
 He had, on the i$th July 1862, brought the lectures on Irish 
 Music to a conclusion in a beautiful and remarkable discourse, 
 which indeed might be in a great measure regarded as an 
 appeal to the nation. It was but rarely in his former lectures 
 that he made any allusion to himself or to his early life. But 
 on this occasion the remembrance of the old airs with which 
 in youth he had been so familiar, appeared to recall the wild 
 scenery of the West, to restore the dead, rekindle early affec- 
 tions, and give voice to still enduring friendship. He spoke 
 of his father's love for the Ossianic poems, and of the litany 
 he used to sing ; and gave the account which we quoted some 
 pages back, of the schoolmaster's performance of the ancient 
 songs. Again there arose in his mind the habitual idea of his 
 own inability to do justice to the subject under consideration. 
 Nothing, he said, could have induced him to treat of national 
 music but the desire, before he should be called out of the 
 world, to put on record for the benefit of his country, and for 
 the assistance of future investigators, the little rude acquaint- 
 ance, as he called it, which he had been able to make with a 
 subject that had been the delight of his life from its earliest 
 dawn. The one person who was qualified to speak on this 
 matter was, he said, that peculiarly gifted man, his dear friend 
 Dr. Petrie, who, however, owing to the unaccountable apathy 
 of his countrymen, was not able to bring out, even once in 
 the year, a volume of his splendid collection of Irish music. 
 " How unlike the English ! " exclaims O'Curry. " How im- 
 measurably unlike the Scotch ! There is scarcely in all Scot- 
 land," he continues, " from the thrifty and well-taught labourer 
 and mechanic up to the lordliest duke, a man in whose house 
 volumes of the noble music of his native country, as well as of
 
 EUGENE O'CURRY 23 
 
 every scrap of national poetry or song, both in Gaelic and 
 English, that from time to time issues from the active press of 
 his country, may not be found." 
 
 Eugene O'Curry's last appearance in public was in the pro- 
 cession of Sunday the 2 yth July, when the first stone of the 
 intended Catholic University building was laid. On the 
 following Tuesday night, having spent a happy evening with 
 his children, he retired to rest, apparently in his usual health. 
 A few hours later his servant, hearing an unusual noise, 
 hastened to his room, and found the professor suffering from a 
 pain in the heart which he described as gradually extending 
 upwards. In twenty minutes O'Curry was no more. 
 
 How well it was understood that a great light had gone out 
 with O'Curry that his death severed the link that connected 
 ancient Erin with the Ireland of to-day was shown in the 
 solemnity and grandeur of the funeral honours bestowed on 
 him. His remains were borne to the cathedral, where High 
 Mass was celebrated by the archhishop ; the rector, the pro- 
 fessors, and the students of the Catholic University assisted, 
 and a large number of the members of the Royal Irish 
 Academy were present. A long procession, in which every 
 class was represented, accompanied the dead scholar's family 
 and friends to Glasnevin, where he was laid to rest. Those 
 who were present when the last rites were performed in the 
 cemetery will not easily forget the impressiveness of the scene, 
 nor the thrilling and harmonious strain which, like the dirge 
 of a nation, filled the air when the choir of priests intoned the 
 Boiedictus, and lifted at once a wail and prayer above the 
 grave of the Irish scholar. 
 
 But the notes that died away over the green sod of Glas- 
 nevin were caught up and re-echoed through the length and 
 breadth of the island by another gifted son of the soil. D'Arcy 
 M'Gee, in a poem inspired by all the passion and feeling of an 
 ancient bard mourning in the sight of the people over the dead 
 form of some mighty king of men, raised his voice and sang 
 the Requiescat O 1 Curry ^ in powerful, pathetic verse. Nor 
 was it for the children of this island alone that he intoned the 
 dirge. In a poem ' 2 of equal though less stern beauty, he made 
 
 1 Published in the Nation. 
 
 - Entitled " Eugene O'Curry," and found in Sadlier's edition of the 
 Poems of Thomas D'Arcy M'Gee.
 
 24 EUGENE O* CURRY 
 
 a lament for the sons of that other Ireland beyond the sea his 
 own second home. Standing on the shore of the great 
 American continent, the poet listens with apprehensive ear for 
 news wafted over from the old land. He seizes upon the 
 record of the latest lost. He remembers the custom of ancient 
 Erin ; and even in the home of the stranger must fain raise 
 the dirge and breathe the prayer for the great one whose place 
 in the old land is found no more 
 
 " Give me again my harp of yew, 
 
 In consecrated soil 'twas grown 
 Shut out the day-star from my view 
 
 And leave me with the night alone. 
 The children of this modern land 
 
 May deem our ancient custom vain ; 
 But aye, responsive to my hand, 
 
 The harp must pour the funeral strain." 
 
 One who could least be spared, an Ollamh 1 of the elect of 
 old ; one who had magic in his speech, and in his wand the 
 power to save the sole recorder on the beach of all we have 
 lost beneath the wave is gone. 
 
 " Who are his mourners? By the hearth 
 
 His presence kindled, sad they sit 
 They dwell throughout the living earth, 
 
 In homes his presence never lit ; 
 Where'er a Gaelic brother dwells, 
 
 There heaven has heard for him a pray'r, 
 Where'er an Irish maiden tells 
 
 Her votive beads, his soul has share. 
 
 "Where far or near be it west or east 
 
 Glistens the Soggarth's sacred stole, 
 There from the true unprompted priest 
 Shall rise a requiem for his soul. 
 
 1 The Ollamhs (pronounced "Ollavs") were learned men by profession, 
 ordained by the king or chief, after going through a course of education 
 extending over twelve years. The Ollamh was bound to have the historic 
 stories, to transmit the truth of history pure and unbroken to succeeding 
 generations, to know the boundaries of provinces and chieftaincies, and 
 trace the genealogies of all the tribes of Erin. He should also be "civil 
 of tongue, unstained of crime, and pure in morals." He sat next to the 
 king at table, enjoyed large emoluments and great privileges, and had the 
 power of saving from death anyone who sought sanctuary within his dwell- 
 ing or was touched by his wand.
 
 EUGENE O'CURRY 25 
 
 Such orisons like clouds shall rise 
 
 From every realm beneath the sun, 
 For where are now the shores or skies 
 
 The Irish Soggarth has not won ? " 
 
 But mortal tears shall dry like rain, and mortal sighs pass 
 like the breeze. Alone supremely happy is the man who, even 
 while he lived on earth, had suppliants in the saints of God. 
 
 "Arise ye cloud-borne saints of old, 
 In number like the Polar flock 
 Arise, ye just, whose tale is told 
 
 By Shannon's side and Arran's rock. 
 
 "This mortal called to join your choir, 
 
 Through every care and every grief, 
 Sought with an antique soul of fire, 
 
 O'er all God's glory, first and chief. 
 And next he sought, oh sacred band ! 
 
 Ye disinherited of Heaven, 
 To give ye back your native land, 
 
 To give it as it first was giv'n ! 
 
 " No more the widow'd glen repines, 
 
 No more the ruined cloister groans, 
 Back on the tides have come the shrines 
 
 Lo ! we have heard the speech of stones. 
 In the mid-watch, when darkness reign'd 
 
 And sleepers slept, unseen his toil 
 But Heaven kept count of all he gained 
 
 For ye, lords of the Holy Isle ! " 
 
 He heard on earth the mute complaints of the exiled saints, 
 the outcasts of the iron time. A holy zeal was kindled in his 
 soul ; this mighty host was ever present to his mind. Will not 
 the pitying saints pray for him now : free him by their interces- 
 sion if venial error still attaints his spirit; and descend in 
 radiant phalanx on his grave at even a wondrous sight such 
 as once was given in vision to the rapt Culdee ? 
 
 "May Angus of the festal lays, 
 
 And Marian of the Apostle's hill, 
 And Tiernan of the Danish days, 
 
 And Adamnan and Columbcille, 
 Befriend his soul in every strait, 
 
 Recite some good 'gainst every sin, 
 Unfold at last the Happy Gate, 
 
 And lead their Scribe and Ollamh in."
 
 26 EUGENE O^CURRY 
 
 Eugene O'Curry was laid in temporary sepulchre not far 
 from the grave of Hogan. They might well have rested 
 side by side : the sculptor who has perpetuated in spotless 
 marble or enduring bronze the form and lineaments of great 
 Irishmen, or great lovers of Ireland Doyle, O'Connel, Davis, 
 Drummond, and the antiquary and philologist who recovered 
 from oblivion and transfused into intelligible language the 
 records, the laws, and the poetry of the Gaelic race. After 
 some years the remains of O'Curry were removed for final 
 interment to a plot granted in perpetuity to his family by the 
 Cemeteries' Committee. Ireland has raised no monument 
 over the ashes of these men. On the sculptor's breast lies a 
 square slab of white marble, on which the word HOGAN is cut 
 in deep characters. Above O'CuRRY's faithful heart not even 
 a name has been inscribed.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 IRELAND'S patron saints are three the wonder-working triad, 
 Patrick, Brigid, and Columba. Wherever an offshoot of the 
 Gaelic stock takes root in torrid clime or snow-swept regions, 
 under the shadow of the silent palm or in the shelter of the 
 rustling pine the Irishman plants the standard of the tutelary 
 three, whose story is in his memory, and whose sanctuary is in 
 his heart. For a thousand years and more these names rang 
 like a clarion blast in the ear of generations called out to answer 
 for the faith within them. For a thousand years and more 
 these names trilled like harp-strings through every dream of 
 liberty and joy. 
 
 According to the order in which they are named, these 
 saintly personages lived, loved, and laboured. When Patrick 
 was called to his reward, Brigid had entered on her career ; 
 and when the Abbess of Kildare fulfilled her course, Columba 
 was a stripling of fair promise. Within the period covered by 
 the first apostle's preaching and the Abbot of lona's evangelistic 
 labours, Ireland had not only become Christian herself, but had 
 sent forth her sons, a host of missioners, to lead other nations 
 into the fold. Columba's career exhibits the striking inaugura- 
 tion of Ireland's mission to foreign races ; while the narrative 
 of Patrick and Brigid's achievements embodies the main incidents 
 in the marvellous, yet indisputable, history of the diffusion, under 
 auspices so happy and uncommon, of the gospel light through- 
 out the length and breadth of the island which had been, up to 
 the date of the preaching of St. Patrick, the " Insula Sacra " of 
 Druidic worship. 
 
 The fame of the pre-eminent triad is traceable to no after-
 
 28 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 thought of gratitude and pride. It was widespread and assured 
 while these illustrious personages still trod the earth and 
 breathed the breath of life. It was perpetuated and extended 
 through successive ages by the deathless devotion of an 
 "immeasurably loving people." History has preserved the 
 record of the leading events in each life, and the national 
 memory has added to this a body of traditional and illustrative 
 lore, suffused with the poetic charm so characteristic of the 
 Gaelic spirit, whose imaginative faculty was glorified, and not 
 eclipsed, when the sun of Justice rose upon the land. The 
 facts of history, and the legend's significant elucidations, 
 have united in vividly portraying these conspicuous and well- 
 beloved figures ; each, indeed, clothed in the 'resplendent 
 robes and crowned with the nimbus of sanctity, yet each 
 completely individualised in accordance with nature's gifts and 
 characteristics. 
 
 In one respect the three patrons bore a striking resemblance 
 to one another. They cherished each and all, though under 
 different circumstances, an intense affection for the Land of the 
 West, and for the race attached to the soil ; and this they 
 displayed in a way that might almost be called excessive and 
 romantic. Patrick landed a foreigner on these shores, bearing 
 Pope Celestine's commission to preach the gospel of Christ 
 Jesus at the uttermost extremity of the known world. As he 
 journeyed through the island, strenuously and successfully 
 planting the faith in every quarter, his heart overflowed with 
 joy. " Behold," said he, " I have preached God here, where 
 no person is beyond me ! " and oftentimes he prayed that he 
 might never lose the children whom he had acquired " at the 
 ends of the earth." These children, who "believed on account 
 of God and Patrick," were the apostle's dearly beloved brethren, 
 and most desired, his joy and his crown. 1 He studied their 
 laws, he adopted their customs, he delighted in their music. 
 He forgot his own tongue in the use of the Gaelic speech ; 
 and in that supreme moment, when he was about to vindicate 
 his heaven-appointed mission, and stand before kings for a 
 testimony to them and to the Gentiles? it was in the rhythmic 
 " art of the Irish " that he composed the sublime " Invocation 
 of the Trinity," which braced his spirit for "that awful hour." 
 Patrick, in a word, was the first great friend, born of a stranger 
 1 Phil. iv. i. 2 Matt. x. 18.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 29 
 
 race, of whom it could be said that he became ipsis Hibernis 
 Hibernior. Surely a more heart-moving instance of love con- 
 fronting death, and passing at one bound into the very presence 
 of the Creator, could not anywhere be found than that revealed 
 in the closing scene of Patrick's life, when the angel named 
 Victor, coming to strengthen the dying apostle, consoled him 
 with the assurance that he would be permitted, on the last day, 
 to stand as an intercessor for the men of Erin before the judg- 
 ment seat of God ! 
 
 Columba, on the other hand, was native-born, of high 
 Milesian lineage, with warrior kings in his paternal ancestry, 
 and renowned bards in his mother's line. His destiny it was 
 to evangelise and civilise the Pictish nations, to train and send 
 forth a host of Irish missioners to more distant regions, to 
 spend the best years of his life in a strange land, and to die in 
 exile. In him -this man of austere life, worn out with labour 
 and consumed with zeal the pang of exile seems never to 
 have been assuaged, save when he poured forth his soul in 
 prayer, as saints in their distress know how to do, or gave 
 voice, now in Latin psalmody and again in Gaelic verse, to 
 his passionate love for Erin, and his longing desire to step 
 once more upon her shores " amid the whitening foam." From 
 the isle of Ornsay, off the coast of Scotland, where he had first 
 intended to establish a centre of missionary work, the Irish 
 headlands could be descried. But the grey line beyond the 
 surging waters woke in his breast too keen a memory, and he 
 sailed away to lona. There he set up his monastic encamp- 
 ment after he had gone to the highest ground in the island and 
 satisfied himself that never, even in the sunset glory, should 
 " the holy hills of Eire " burst upon him in visionary array. 
 Yet to this elevated point, called by his disciples the Cairn of 
 Farewell, he would daily resort, and, looking across the western 
 waves, waft a prayer and a blessing towards the home of his 
 affections. For his consolation it was revealed to him that, 
 although the appointed place of his decease was lona, his grave 
 should be in Erin, beside Patrick and Brigid. 
 
 Brigid was of the same race as Columba. From first to 
 last she lived and laboured in the island of the Gael. Her 
 missionary vocation led her into every province, and brought 
 her into contact with the highest in the land as well as with the 
 lowliest. She was consulted by bishops and visited by kings,
 
 30 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 and yet was so sympathetic and accessible that hunted slaves 
 threw themselves into her arms for protection, and simple 
 rustics ran to her for comfort in their homely troubles. The 
 veneration paid to her was equal to that accorded to Patrick 
 and Columba, while the affection which she inspired was 
 unique in its tenderness. She who was so nobly entitled 
 the " Mary of Ireland," the " Mother of the Churches," the 
 " Glory of the Irish," was yet so personally beloved that for 
 generations it was the custom of the western Gael to link her 
 name with a term of endearment. How it was that she won 
 the boundless devotion of an entire nation will best be under- 
 stood by glancing at the story of her life. 
 
 Duvach, Brigid's father, a chieftain in rank, traced his 
 descent from Heremon, the second son of Milesius, through 
 Feidlimidh, surnamed the Lawgiver, king of Ireland in the 
 second century of the Christian era. Of the same lineage were 
 the famous warrior princes Con of the Hundred Battles and 
 Niall of the Nine Hostages. The chieftain's wife, Brotseach, 
 was of the family of O'Conor of South Bregia, a territory in 
 Meath. 1 In all probability both husband and wife were converts 
 of St. Patrick, but it has not been recorded whether they were 
 baptized before or after their daughter's birth, which took place 
 about the middle of the fifth century. However this may have 
 been, they give her a significant and distinguished name : they 
 called her Bridh or Brigid, after the deity whom the ancient 
 Irish revered as the goddess of wisdom and song. 2 According 
 to some accounts she was educated or " fostered " by a Druid. 
 It has even been asserted that Duvach was himself a Druid, by 
 which possibly nothing more was meant than that he was 
 skilled in all the literature and philosophy of the time. Anyhow, 
 there can be no doubt that the young girl, on whom so remark- 
 
 1 Another account of Brigid's parentage is sometimes met with ; but as 
 it contradicts the positive statements of the earliest writers, and is discarded 
 by the highest authorities, Protestant and Catholic (Usher, Ware, Dr. 
 Lanigan, and Canon O'Hanlon), it is needless to give it here. 
 
 2 The pronunciation of the name would be nearer to Bree-hid than to 
 anything else. Consequently the modern Bride is much closer to the mark 
 than the name of the Swedish widow Brigitta. It will be noticed that 
 our saint's name was never discarded. Not so the names of other great 
 patrons. Columba was originally called Crimthain. The apostle of 
 Ireland was known as Succat until Pope Celestine give him the title of 
 Patricius, or noble.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 31 
 
 able a name was bestowed, and whom Sir James Ware includes 
 in his history among the writers of Ireland, received the very 
 liberal education which was usually given in her native land to 
 the daughters as well as the sons of the noble and the learned. 
 Faughart, near Dundalk, in the then division of Ulster, is 
 generally named as the birthplace of Brigid, though this does 
 not quite tally with the fact that the people of Leinster from 
 the first claimed her as their own. In a very ancient poem she 
 is addressed as the "princess of the men of Leinster"; St. 
 Columba's hymn, composed in her honour, designates her as 
 the " dear saint of Lagenia " ; and St. Ultan of Ardbrechan, 
 who also sang her praises in elegant verse, leaves no doubt as 
 to his own belief when he says : " I shall be saved in all things 
 by my Leinster saint" The fact appears to be that Duvach's 
 family were only temporarily dwelling at Faughart when St. 
 Brigid was born, and that they soon afterwards returned to the 
 district in Kildare where the chiefs principal residence was 
 situated. 
 
 When of an age to be intrusted with the management of 
 domestic affairs, Brigid was appointed to the duty of superin- 
 tending the dairy, providing repasts for invited guests, showing 
 hospitality to strangers, and distributing food to the poor. Her 
 natural aptitude and her generosity of spirit had in this task 
 full scope for their exercise ; guests and strangers were suitably 
 entertained by the young housekeeper, and the poor received 
 abundant succour through her hands. So kind was she to all 
 God's creatures, that it was remarked she would not suffer even 
 a dog to go away hungry. Faith came to the aid of charity in 
 her case. Whenever any embarrassment arose in consequence 
 of too liberal a disbursement, she had recourse to prayer ; and 
 heaven, knowing how high and holy her intentions were, came 
 to her aid in wonderful ways. 
 
 As a matter of course, Duvach's daughter, whose personal 
 attractions were considerable, had many suitors. One of these 
 is named and characterised by the old writers ; and this is 
 interesting as showing what manner of man it was supposed 
 might fitly mate with her. This suitor is described as of 
 innocent life and a poet ! Brigid's thoughts, however, were 
 otherwise inclined. She had early resolved to dedicate her 
 life to God. A great number of her countrywomen had 
 already taken a like step, moved thereunto by the preaching
 
 32 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 of Patrick, who himself said that he could not count all the 
 sons of the Irish and the daughters of the kings who were 
 monks and virgins of Christ. There can hardly be a doubt 
 that Brigid saw the apostle of Ireland and heard him preach, 
 though where or when cannot be ascertained. Her parents 
 offered no serious opposition to her desire of embracing the 
 religious state, and after some time, in company with three 
 maidens of her acquaintance, she repaired to St. Maccaille, 
 then exercising episcopal functions in Offaly, and residing at 
 Usny Hill, on the borders of Westmeath. On arriving at their 
 destination the aspirants were joined by four or five other 
 pious women, natives of the place ; and together, presenting 
 themselves before the venerable disciple of St. Patrick, they 
 made their vows and received the religious habit a white 
 mantle and a veil of the same colour. In those days the 
 assumption of the religious garb did not necessarily denote a 
 separation from home and kindred, or a complete interruption 
 of the routine of common life. For the most part the religious 
 women who received the veil from St. Patrick and his disciples 
 lived with their relatives. Yet it is probable that something 
 more than the usual course may have been contemplated in 
 the present instance. At anyrate, the newly vowed nuns who 
 resided in that part of the country joined their parents in 
 entreating Brigid and those who had come with her to stay in 
 the neighbourhood and occupy a dwelling in which all the 
 religious should form one family. St. Maccaille also desired 
 that this should be done, and at once selected a site for the 
 monastic habitation. 
 
 To found and raise up a monastery was not a stupendous 
 undertaking in those primitive and patriarchal times. The 
 mode of proceeding was as follows. A well-disposed prince 
 or a friendly sept was asked to grant a piece of land for the 
 community to occupy and cultivate ; the vicinity of a spring- 
 well or a running stream being one of the first essentials in a 
 site. This favour granted, a party of the tribesmen, or the 
 monks themselves in the case of a community of men, forth- 
 with repaired to the forest, never far distant in the " woody 
 isle," cut and carried away some loads of wattles, and con- 
 structed on the chosen spot a cluster of huts, circular in shape, 
 plastered with loam, and thatched with straw or sedge. The 
 neatest of these erections served as cells for the religious,
 
 57: BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 33 
 
 while the ruder constituted the group of offices kitchen, 
 dairy, wash-house, etc. Of course, a church or oratory formed 
 the most conspicuous feature of the encampment, recognisable 
 by its superior size, its oblong form, and its more shapely con- 
 struction in oak planks. When a hedge or paling had been 
 set all round, or, in the case of the greater monasteries, a 
 circular embankment formed, the material structure of the 
 religious establishment might be pronounced complete. 
 
 In such a rustic beguinage as this, Bishop Maccaille planted 
 his religious family, appointing Brigid mother and head over 
 all. Moreover, he helped to stock the farm, by presenting the 
 abbess with as many cows as there were members in her com- 
 munity. Contributions in kine and kind were received from 
 other friends ; and before long the nuns were prospering in 
 their new settlement, tending their sheep, herding their cattle, 
 cultivating their fields, dwelling in the midst of peace, and 
 dispensing, in generous hospitality and beneficent alms, the 
 plentiful produce of their laborious days. 1 We do not find 
 any special mention of a school being taught at the monastery, 
 but we may be perfectly certain that religious and secular edu- 
 cation was freely given to all comers according to St. Patrick's 
 strict injunction, which made every monastery and every cell 
 a seat of learning. The probability is that the neighbours' 
 children were gathered together and taught in classes on the 
 green sod round the wattle huts ; and that the adults who 
 came asking to be regenerated in the saving waters were 
 instructed in the oratory, and there prepared for the visit 
 of the apostolic missioners who journeyed about from one 
 religious settlement to another, preaching the doctrine of life, 
 and baptizing the converts in the running stream or in the 
 well prepared for that purpose. As cloistral seclusion was not 
 enjoined, Brigid and her nuns travelled hither and thither 
 through the country, according as charity, zeal, or necessity 
 required. There was nothing extraordinary in their doing 
 so ; for " in those days the saints, both men and women, 
 travelled all over Ireland preaching and teaching, edifying 
 the faithful by their virtues and miracles, and followed by a 
 
 1 A place known in ancient records as Tegh-brighide (Brigid's house), 
 and situated near Kilbeggan, has been pointed out as the probable site of 
 our saint's first monastery. Other authorities indicate Rath-bridghe 
 (Brigid's town), in the barony of Ballycown. King's County.
 
 34 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 pious and admiring crowd." 1 When on a journey, the pious 
 women would seek shelter for the night in some humble tene- 
 ment, or, if hospitality were offered to them by persons of 
 rank, they would accept the proffered kindness, and avail of 
 the opportunity to perform some work of edification in perhaps 
 a half-converted or a wholly pagan family. A bishop's invita- 
 tion would be gratefully accepted, and on such an occasion 
 the prelate, the clerics, and the nuns would sit down together 
 to the homely repast, taking their meat like the first Christian 
 flock, with gladness and simplicity of heart, seasoning the fare 
 with spiritual discourses, and in all probability adding to the 
 holy joy of the festivity the charm of sacred song, in which even 
 the first converts had learned to excel. Poetry and music, says 
 the author just quoted, were never absent when guests and 
 travellers were entertained, "for all hermits, saintly virgins, 
 grave abbots, and venerable bishops were children of Erin." 
 
 An incident which occurred at a banquet to which St. 
 Maccaille invited Brigid and her companions may be related 
 as interesting and characteristic. Just as the company were 
 about to sit down to table, the abbess requested the bishop to 
 refresh the minds of his guests with a spiritual discourse before 
 they partook of the entertainment he had provided for them. 
 The request was willingly complied with, and the prelate 
 delivered an eloquent homily, taking his text from the Sermon 
 on the Mount, and dwelling on the eight beatitudes by which 
 the kingdom of heaven is secured. At the conclusion of this 
 discourse Brigid remarked to her companions, that the bishop, 
 having proposed eight virtues for their special observance and 
 sanctification, and the sisters present being of the same 
 number, she thought it would be a good thing for each to 
 select one particular beatitude for her special devotion. 
 Pleased with this suggestion, the nuns expressed their readi- 
 ness to follow the counsel of the abbess, as soon as she herself 
 had made known her choice. Without a moment's hesitation, 
 Brigid chose Mercy for her particular practice. 2 Thenceforth, 
 as we are told, it was her habit never to take corporal refresh- 
 ment until she had fortified herself with God's holy word. 
 
 Churches were not numerous, although the faith had been 
 propagated throughout the land, nor were priests resident in 
 
 1 M. Tachet de Barneval, Histoire Legendaire de t ' Irlande. 
 
 2 Very Rev. Canon O'Hanlon's Lives of the Irish Saints, vol. ii.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 35 
 
 every territory. Consequently, at the approach of the great 
 festivals, the faithful journeyed in pilgrim fashion to the 
 monasteries or other settlements, where they knew they would 
 have an opportunity to perform their devotions and receive 
 the sacraments. Towns or even large villages having no 
 existence, it became a matter of serious difficulty to provide 
 for the wants of the converts who came from a distance, and 
 were obliged to remain for several days in the open country, 
 or by the riverside, or on the forest borders, or wherever the 
 church happened to be located. Shelter from the weather 
 was easily enough secured by hardy natives accustomed to 
 camp out. But the food supply was a difficulty which could 
 only be met by the hospitable forethought of Christian neigh- 
 bours. Brigid had always a compassionate feeling for the 
 pious crowd gathered round the house of God on these 
 occasions, and often sent presents of food and drink for the 
 refreshment of those who, for their souls' sake, had journeyed 
 a long distance from their homes. Once it came into her 
 charitable mind to provide at Easter time a banquet for all 
 the religious establishments in her part of the country ; and 
 we are told that eighteen monasteries and churches received 
 gifts from the abbess, whose store was so wonderfully blessed 
 and increased by Providence that all who assisted at the 
 sacred functions in those several places, on Holy Thursday, 
 on Easter Sunday, and during the following week, were 
 abundantly entertained. Our saint, with her nuns, had some- 
 times in the early days of her institute to make a long journey, 
 like the common faithful, when Easter-tide drew near. That 
 she did more than make a pilgrimage and say her prayers, we 
 learn incidentally from an account of what took place at a 
 certain church in the territory of Teffia, to which she had 
 come to celebrate the resurrection of the Lord. " Having 
 arrived at the place," says the chronicle, "she took to washing 
 the feet of the old men and the feeble folk who were in the 
 church." Among the congregation were a leper and a blind 
 man, and other afflicted persons. But when she performed 
 the offices of charity in behalf of the poor members of Christ's 
 flock, " those who were sick and maimed among them were 
 straightway healed." 1 
 
 1 Three Middle-Irish Homilies. Edited by Mr. Whitley Stokes, and 
 privately printed at Calcutta, 1877.
 
 36 ST. B RIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 By this time a number of holy women had joined the com- 
 munity ; the fame of the abbess had spread far and wide, 
 and the monastery had become a centre of attraction to all. 
 Everyone recognised the fact that Brigid was specially blessed 
 in all her ways and works. Her pastures, it was observed, 
 were more productive than other lands. Her harvests were 
 gathered in sunshine, even while rain poured down on the 
 surrounding fields. When she visited the sick and prayed 
 over them, they recovered. When, having fasted and invoked 
 God's mercy, she washed the lepers, they became cleansed. 
 Evil spirits fled from dwellings in which they had taken up 
 their abode when the holy woman entered the door, blessed 
 some water and sprinkled the walls. Wisdom itself seemed to 
 speak whenever she gave advice, angry feelings subsided in 
 her presence, and she had that sweet persuasiveness which 
 made all who approached her willing to do whatsoever she 
 desired. The Christians resorted to the monastery for help in 
 all their necessities, many also coming who wanted nothing 
 but her blessing ; while the pagans, impressed by the character 
 of the queenly woman whom charity urged to perform the 
 lowliest offices, and struck with admiration of the beneficent 
 power with which this great servant of the Christians' God was 
 endowed, made their way to the place of her abode, and pre- 
 sented themselves for baptism. 
 
 At no great distance from the seat of St. Maccaille's juris- 
 diction resided another patriarch of the Irish Church, Mel of 
 the Honeyed Tongue, a native of Cambria, who came over 
 with Patrick to assist in the conversion of the island, and was 
 the constant and beloved companion of the apostle in his 
 missionary journeys north and south. Patrick conferred 
 episcopal consecration on Mel, appointed Ardagh as his place 
 of residence, and gave him spiritual authority over Teffia, a 
 district including the present county of Longford and the half 
 of Westmeath. St. Mel founded a great monastery with an 
 ecclesiastical seminary at Ardagh, and, like most of his rank 
 in the Irish Church, combined the duties of bishop and abbot. 
 So also his monks engaged in labours not compatible with a 
 life of cloistral seclusion, and took their part in external 
 missionary work ; for to spread the faith was, at this juncture, 
 the paramount duty of all religious. Seeing what assistance 
 was given in the work of conversion by Brigid and the pious
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 37 
 
 women associated with her, St. Mel requested the abbess to 
 come to his diocese, establish communities in different local- 
 ities, and carry on in Teffia the mission that had been so 
 blessed in the neighbouring territory. 
 
 Brigid gladly responded to this invitation, and, accompanied 
 by the bishop, repaired to Ardagh, with which place she 
 became so intimately connected that she has continued to be 
 invoked up to the present day as associated with St. Mel in 
 the patronage of that ancient diocese. She must have remained 
 for a considerable time in Teffia, for several incidents are 
 related as having occurred while she was resident in that part 
 of the country, or engaged in making journeys thence into 
 outlying districts. Thus we read of her going to visit a king 
 living in the plain of Breagh (the "magnificent plain" in which 
 Tara is situated), for the purpose of obtaining the liberation of 
 a captive. On another occasion she accompanies Bishop Mel 
 to Teltown at a time when a synod of the fathers of the Irish 
 Church was being held at that seat of national assemblies 
 and extensive traffic. Again, we find her engaged on a mission 
 to a tribe and territory near Carrickmacross ; and, when a 
 scarcity of corn caused distress in her neighbourhood, we hear 
 of her proceeding to the plain of the Liffey to seek at St. Ibar's 
 hands the necessary supplies of grain. 
 
 This visit was the beginning of a great friendship between 
 the saints. Bishop Ibar, like Mel of Ardagh, had laboured 
 long and zealously with Patrick in preaching the gospel 
 throughout Ireland. His name is principally associated with 
 the monastery and famous seminary established by him on the 
 islet of Beg Erin, lying in the northern part of Wexford 
 harbour; but at the time we are speaking of he was resident 
 much nearer to Teffia. Brigid having obtained the assistance 
 she required, went back to her own domicile, and after some 
 time St. Ibar returned her visit, coming to the monastery and 
 saying mass for all who were there. Bishops were not by any 
 means unfrequent visitors at Brigid's residence. They often 
 came, several at a time, to hold a consultation with the "head 
 abbess of Ireland," or sought her hospitality as they passed in 
 their missionary course through the country. The unexpected 
 arrival of bishops with their attendant clerics might naturally 
 occasion a momentary embarrassment to the pious community, 
 but the abbess always showed herself equal to the occasion.
 
 38 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 Sometimes she would simply order the rather scanty supplies 
 of meat and drink to be laid on the table ; and then it would, 
 somehow or another, turn out that all the guests had abundant 
 refreshment, and were pleased with their entertainment. At 
 other times she would simply direct the cook to make prepara- 
 tions for serving a banquet, and then would repair to the 
 church and shut herself up in the sacred edifice. Meanwhile 
 a chief would arrive with presents of provisions, or a carrier 
 would halt at the wicket and offer supplies, or something else 
 of an extraordinary nature would happen to provide the cook 
 with abundant stores, and furnish a suitable repast for the 
 honoured guests. It was still the same when a band of foot- 
 sore pilgrims sought a shelter, or a prince in traveller's 
 equipment drew rein before the monastic enclosure with his 
 brilliant retinue and glittering host of spearsmen. The abbess 
 received the wayfarers the poor of Christ or the rulers of 
 the land with a cordial greeting; spread for them her 
 hospitable board, and suffered them not to depart until they 
 were cheered, refreshed, and made in every sense the better 
 for their stay. 
 
 So remarkable was the influence which this holy woman 
 obtained over all who came into communication with her, and 
 so great the number of those whose hearts she turned to God, 
 that it was considered necessary she should always have an 
 ecclesiastic with her; and a priest named Nathfraich was 
 appointed to accompany her on her missionary journeys. The 
 servant of God who was chosen for this duty, and who is 
 ranked among the saints of Ireland, appears to have also acted 
 as domestic chaplain at the monastery, reading pious books to 
 the nuns in the refectory, giving them spiritual instruction on 
 every available occasion, and fulfilling, in a word, all the 
 offices of priest and friend. From the fact of his always 
 accompanying the nuns on their pious expeditions, and under- 
 taking the conduct of the journeys, he is frequently called, in 
 history, St. Brigid's charioteer. In those days chariot-driving 
 was the usual mode of locomotion, and the saints followed the 
 custom of the country in this as in many other respects. 
 Once, when Nathfraich was required to deliver a homily and 
 drive a pair of horses at the same time, the difficulty of com- 
 bining two dissimilar duties was exemplified in a way that 
 well-nigh proved disastrous. The incident, related at length by
 
 ST. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 39 
 
 ancient writers, may be shortened thus : On a certain day, 
 when the presence of the saint was necessary at a great 
 assembly of the faithful in a distant place, she, with one of her 
 nuns, set out in a chariot drawn by two horses. Nathfraich, 
 acting as charioteer, was asked to give his travelling com- 
 panions a religious instruction ; and in order to be better 
 heard he turned his head over his shoulder. Then said the 
 abbess : " Turn round that we may hear you better, and 
 throw down the reins." So the chaplain cast the reins down 
 over the front of the chariot, and addressed his discourse to 
 the nuns with his back turned to the horses. Just on the 
 edge of a dangerous precipice, one of the animals broke his 
 traces and ran off into the fields in an affrighted manner ; 
 yet so engrossed were Brigid and her companion in the 
 sermon of the priestly charioteer, that they did not perceive 
 the horse was loose, and the carriage running all on one side. 
 The King of Leinster witnessed the occurrence from a 
 high hill, and, recognising the saint's chariot, was much con- 
 cerned to see her in such imminent danger. However, by a 
 manifest interposition of Divine Providence, the travellers 
 arrived safely at the place of assembly. Brigid, as we read, 
 exhorted the people by pious admonitions ; while the rumour 
 of her danger and subsequent escape having reached them, 
 the minds of all present were filled with admiration and 
 rejoicing. 
 
 And now it may be well to consider for a moment what 
 were the special gifts, the striking characteristics, of this great 
 woman, and how it was that she exercised such a powerful and 
 blessed influence over all kinds of people. To begin with, 
 she was of course a saint ; and the keynote of her sanctity 
 was a close union with God in all things, and at all times. In 
 the annals of Ireland her fidelity in walking with God is 
 recorded before her diligent serving of the Lord in charitable 
 works and her power of performing miracles are referred to. 
 "Brigid," say the Four Masters, "was she who never turned 
 her mind or attention from the Lord for the space of one hour, 
 but was constantly meditating and thinking of Him in her heart 
 and mind." One of her biographers, dwelling on her wonder- 
 ful spirit of recollection, relates that she herself said she was able 
 to hear, during the day, the masses offered in honour of the 
 Almighty in distant parts of the world, and that she constantly
 
 40 57'. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 "experienced a great joy of spirit while she heard through 
 divine inspiration holy songs, spiritual canticles, and strains of 
 heavenly organs." Filled thus with the Spirit of God, and 
 living without interruption in His presence, it followed that 
 she obtained the grant of her petitions, and an answer even to 
 the desires of her heart. The efficacy of her intercession and 
 the potency of her blessing were sensibly experienced by her 
 clients. Moreover, the holy joy dwelling in her soul lighted 
 up her countenance and made eloquent her simplest words. 
 Hence the sweet attraction of her presence, the constraining 
 power of her address. 
 
 Indeed, joy the joy of the Holy Ghost found at that 
 period in the Island of Saints a field for its radiant operation 
 such as seldom has been presented even in th^e history of 
 the Church of God. No doubt the preaching of the gospel 
 throughout the country had been, and still was, a work of 
 heavy labour, owing to the comparative fewness of the pastors 
 and the multitude of the flock. But success had been from 
 the first assured, and the consolations experienced at every 
 step were to the utmost degree exhilarating and sustaining. 
 None of the tragic catastrophes elsewhere so common at the 
 planting of the Cross had occurred to chill the springtide of 
 faith. The footsteps of the apostles were not tracked in blood. 
 Such opposition as was given to their preaching arose from the 
 hostility of the Druids, who naturally fought hard in defence of 
 their false system, and from the interference or indifference of 
 the kings. A general toleration in matters of opinion pre- 
 vailed ; and even those princes who refused to become Christian 
 themselves, allowed their sons to travel through the country in 
 Patrick's train, and thus to imbibe the doctrines so fascinating 
 to the Gaelic nature, when not already contaminated by vice 
 or warped by worldly ambition. This toleration was due in 
 a great measure to the influence of the literary classes, a 
 numerous and powerful body, subdivided into orders of poets, 
 philosophers, historians, and custodians of the law. The pro- 
 fessors of learning, of whatever grade, were practised in the 
 discussion of abstract and intellectual questions ; and by the 
 public recital of their imaginative compositions, their historic 
 narratives, their lessons in the science of the day, and their 
 expositions of the Brehon code, all thrown into rythmic form, 
 had accustomed the people to receive new ideas, entertain
 
 ST. BR1GID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 41 
 
 high thoughts, and cherish noble aspirations. In point of 
 fact, the mass of the population were not ill-prepared for the 
 revelation of the great truths of Christianity. Their religion, 
 a pantheistic system, was free from the basest forms of super- 
 stition. No bloody sacrificial rites disgraced their worship. 
 The sun, the moon, the starry hosts ; the streams, the springs, 
 the widespread lakes ; the beautiful forms, and the dread 
 powers of nature, were the objects of their adoration. When 
 they swore, it was by the day and the night, the land and the 
 sea. The immortality of the soul was an article of their belief, 
 and in imagination they followed their departed friends to 
 their eternal homes in those islands of the blest floating far 
 off in endless day on the bosom of the western main. Some 
 time before St. Patrick's preaching, the professors of learning, 
 notably the order of poets, had opposed the polytheistic 
 teaching of the Uruids, and publicly maintained the doctrine 
 of the unity of the Godhead, and the obligation of adoring 
 the one true God, Creator of heaven and earth. This funda- 
 mental truth, and other glimpses of revelation, were caught, 
 it is supposed, from the Christian captives brought home by 
 the pirate kings, whose practice it was to swoop down on 
 the shores of Britain and Gaul, and carry off prisoners and 
 plunder. 
 
 The sincerity and independent spirit displayed by the poet- 
 philosopers in their encounter with the Druids met with a 
 glorious reward. Among the first of the population to receive 
 the grace of the divine call were the chief men of their order ; 
 and the part assigned to them by Providence in the work of con- 
 verting the nation was a noble and distinguished one. It will 
 be remembered that when Leoghaire, 1 monarch of Ireland, 
 permitted St. Patrick to come to the royal residence at Tara, 
 and, in the presence of the king and the chief men of the 
 Court, offer an exposition of the new doctrines which he had 
 presumed to preach in the land, an order was given that the 
 marks of respect usually shown to distinguished strangers re- 
 ceived in audience should be withheld on the entrance of the 
 missioner, who had incurred the displeasure of the authorities 
 by lighting the Easter fires on the hill of Slane. However, at 
 the moment when the venerable apostle, in his snow-white 
 sacerdotal vesture, followed by his clerics, entered the hall of 
 1 Pronounced Layray.
 
 42 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 audience, Duvach l MacLugair, chief poet of Ireland, obeying 
 an inspiration more than poetic, rose from his seat near the 
 king to do honour to Patrick. Immediately his example was 
 followed by his distinguished pupil, Fiech the Fair, who, also 
 rising to his feet, saluted the envoy of Christ. From being an 
 attentive hearer of the word, Duvach advanced to being a 
 zealous disciple of the apostle. In his train a large contingent 
 from the learned ranks enlisted in the army of the Lord ; and 
 the poet-converts, fired with a holy enthusiasm^ devoted their 
 talents to the service of God, and rendered to the missionary 
 saints incalculable aid in the diffusion of the gospel light. 
 Prayers, parables, catechisms, were cast in poetic form, and 
 musically recited in the assemblies of the people. Hymns and 
 sacred songs were composed and wedded to the sublime tones 
 of the ecclesiastic chant, which, introduced by Patrick, was found 
 to have a strange affinity with the native music of the Gael. 
 And when the people, who had always believed in the divine 
 origin of poetry and music, heard the doctrines of salvation 
 announced and the sentiments of piety expressed in this 
 language of the soul, a sort of ecstasy seized them. The hymn 
 of praise, the song of triumph, gave voice to the devout 
 emotions of their heart; their Credo swelled in choral sym- 
 phonies from sea to sea ; all the sons of God made a joyful melody. 
 Another influence brought to bear with harmonious and 
 effective strength in the advancement of the apostolic work, 
 was the influence of the women of Erin. Early attracted by 
 the austere, yet love-inspired, doctrines of the Christian dis- 
 pensation, they embraced the faith preached to them, and 
 zealously aided in enlarging the bounds of the Good Shepherd's 
 fold. The position they occupied in the social slate enabled 
 them to do this in a natural and graceful way ; for as their 
 rights in property were secured to them by the Brehon code, 
 so also were their personal freedom and their liberty of opinion 
 respected by the custom of the country. Moreover, in family 
 life they were not debarred from sharing in whatever educational 
 advantages their male relations enjoyed. In the bardic families, 
 female minstrels played their part with distinction. Even the 
 jurists taught their daughters the principles of the Senchus 
 Mor ; and several women are named in ancient records as 
 proficient in the study of legal subjects, and able expounders 
 1 Pronounced Duffy.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 43 
 
 of the law. 1 Accordingly, it created no astonishment when 
 women were found among the most earnest hearers of the 
 word of God, and ranked themselves in the company of the 
 first converts to the Christian faith ; nor was public opinion 
 outraged in any degree when subsequently a number of the 
 devout sex chose to associate for religious purposes, and abide 
 in a dwelling of their own. It was allowed that they had a 
 right to act thus ; and practically, they were as safe behind the 
 enclosure of the quick-set hedge that indicated the monastic 
 bounds as they would have been if entrenched within the 
 circumvallations of the kingly dun. 
 
 While observing that the system of paganism prevailing in 
 ancient Erin offered no insuperable obstacle to the conversion 
 of the people, it may also be noted that the manners and 
 customs of the country were in the main such as could readily 
 be sanctified. No violent disruption of the social state was 
 needed. " Ireland," observes a writer who has closely studied 
 this period of the nation's history, " had nothing to change in 
 her manners after her conversion. Her songs, her bards, her 
 festivities, her patriarchal government were left to her." 2 
 
 Brigid therefore, when she looked abroad over the face of 
 the land, found in abundance wherewithal to feed the lamp of 
 holy joy she kept alight in her soul. Her people had prepared 
 for the messengers of Christ not a scourge and a crown of 
 thorns, but a feast of joy and a hundred thousand welcomes. 
 The earth itself was growing beautiful under the influence of 
 the spiritual life infused into every state of existence from the 
 cradle to the grave. The young, the pure, the gifted, and the 
 single-minded had come from every side to take up the light 
 burden and sweet yoke of the Saviour of mankind. Still, no 
 doubt, many of the princes of the land held out against the 
 divine invitation, preferring earthly ambition to a heavenly 
 reward, and going in for a monopoly of evil-doing ; " for," 
 observes Father Thebaud, " it was amongst the chieftains prin- 
 cipally, almost entirely, that sin prevailed ; the clan system, 
 unfortunately, favouring deadly feuds." Yet, even from the 
 ranks of the contentious toparchs, converts were gained as 
 time went on. Before Brigid had finished her earthly course, 
 all the kings save one professed the faith. 
 
 1 Eugene O'Curry, Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish. 
 
 - Rev. A. J. Thebaud, S.J., The Irish Race in the Past and the Present.
 
 44 ST. BR1GID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 It must not be supposed that our saint was so absorbed in 
 heavenly contemplation, so lifted up in exuberant spiritual 
 delight, as to be unmindful of sublunary things, or prone to 
 treat the affairs of common life as beneath her concern. No ; 
 the Spirit of God worked otherwise in her : set the current of 
 her life flowing at high tide, widened her intellectual vision, 
 quickened her every perception, and infused into her heart a 
 grace of sympathy which enabled her to share with tender 
 feeling the smaller griefs of poor humanity, as well as to exhibit 
 a true understanding of life's greater issues. - Everyone knew 
 that the abbess was fully alive to all that was going on around 
 her, and many incidents related by ancient writers show how 
 ready she was to sympathise and how quick to help. For 
 instance, we are told that one day, observing a good man who 
 lived not far from the monastery, looking downcast, she in- 
 quired what it was that troubled him, and learned that all his 
 family were sick, that everything was going wrong in his little 
 household, and that there was no one to milk the cows. 
 Immediately she desired her nuns to go to the place, attend 
 to the cattle, and set everything to rights. Grateful for the 
 succour thus received, the good man invited the sisters to 
 partake of a repast he prepared for them ; and they, with the 
 courtesy they had been taught to show to all who wished to do 
 them a favour, accepted the hospitality offered to them, and 
 sat down to table when their work was done. Meanwhile 
 Brigid, having fasted and prayed, came to the dwelling, 
 sprinkled the walls and the sick inmates with blessed water, 
 and besought the Lord to restore health to the ailing and give 
 His benediction to the household. When evening came, the 
 morning clouds had vanished, and all was peace and joy in 
 that family. Another day, as she was proceeding on a journey 
 in her chariot, she saw a poor family wearily carrying loads of 
 wood in the heat of the day. Moved with compassion, she at 
 once unyoked the horses from the chariot, gave them to the 
 poor people to assist them in their work, and sat down with 
 her nuns by the roadside to consider what was next to do. A 
 presentiment that thirsty wayfarers might soon pass by seemed 
 to strike her, for said she to her companions, " Dig under the 
 turf, that water may spring up for the travellers" ; which being 
 done, straightway burst forth a fountain. Presently a chief 
 rode up with a train of attendants on foot and on horseback ;
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 45 
 
 and he, learning that Brigid had given away her horses, pre- 
 sented her with a pair of his own. The animals were untrained, 
 but they became as tractable under her management, we are 
 told, as if they had been accustomed to the traces of her 
 chariot. While this was going on, a company of clerics passing 
 by told the pious women that they were suffering much on 
 their journey, having food indeed, but no drink. Immediately 
 the sisters informed them that running water had been pro- 
 vided for their refreshment by the abbess, who had predicted 
 their arrival. This led to an offer of hospitality on the part of 
 the holy men, which Brigid and her companions, who had not 
 come prepared for their halt in the desert, gladly accepted. 
 So the missioners and the sisters ate and drank together, and 
 gave thanks to the Almighty for the succour He had provided 
 for each and all. 1 
 
 Another characteristic of our saint, it need hardly be said, 
 was a boundless liberality in bestowing alms. Gifts presented 
 to her by friends and visitors she gratefully accepted, and used 
 them in enriching pilgrims and relieving the needy and 
 embarrassed. Sometimes the nuns were not well pleased to 
 see precious offerings so hastily distributed ; and once, when 
 the abbess gave away a gold chain bestowed on her by a royal 
 visitor, they ventured to remonstrate. " Give earthly things 
 to God," said Brigid, in reply; "He will return you earthly 
 and heavenly favours." A madman whom the nuns, to their 
 no small consternation, encountered one day while travelling 
 in the mountains, showed that he could understand as well as 
 the sanest of mankind what the saint's great charity entitled 
 her to at the hands of all. She, having spoken to the demented 
 creature, calmed and soothed him, and bade him preach the 
 word of God to those who stood before him. " I cannot," he 
 replied, " be ungentle to thee, for thou art merciful to the 
 Lord's family, to wit, to the poor and to the wretched." 2 
 
 Being so holy and so sympathetic, so generous and so 
 helpful, it was no wonder that the clients and visitors of the 
 abbess were various and multitudinous, that she was had 
 recourse to in every emergency, and exercised a wonderful 
 influence over the minds of men. Even the untamed denizens 
 
 1 See Bishop Forbes (Kalendars of Scottish Saints) and Canon 
 O'Hanlon. 
 
 2 The madman's sermon will be found in the Middle-Irish Homilies,
 
 46 ST. BRIG ID. ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 of the woods and wilds felt the charm of her gracious person- 
 ality. Many are the legends testifying to her power over the 
 lower creation. Now, it is a story of some wild animal, pursued 
 by hunters, flying to sanctuary in the monastic lands, and 
 living ever afterwards in a domesticated state with Brigid's 
 flocks and herds. Again, it is a picturesque scene, such as 
 the saint on the brink of a pond with a flight of wild ducks 
 fluttering round her, coming at her call, and suffering them- 
 selves to be stroked by the hand. A legend in which reynard 
 makes a creditable figure is too characteristic to be omitted. 
 It would appear that a simple rustic, one of Brigid's people, 
 while cutting firewood one day on the outskirts of a forest, 
 saw a fox straying about, and thoughtlessly killed the animal, 
 not knowing that it was a tamed creature in whose tricks and 
 gambols the king of the territory took great delight. The 
 latter, on learning what had happened, became exasperated ; 
 ordered the poor man to be put to death, and directed that 
 his wife and children should be reduced to slavery. Shocked 
 at the cruelty of the sentence, the man's friends ran to the 
 abbess and told her of the unhappy fate awaiting her retainer 
 and his family. Immediately she ordered her chariot to be 
 yoked, and drove across the plain in the direction of the royal 
 rath. Passing through the forest, she called to her a fox which 
 she saw running in the distance, and, instantly obeying, it 
 jumped into the chariot and quietly lay down, nestling in the 
 folds of her garments. Having arrived at the king's residence, 
 she entered the royal presence, and earnestly entreated that 
 the poor man should be liberated from his chains, while she 
 represented that he was not really accountable for what he had 
 done, and pointed out how disproportionate was the heaviness 
 of the chastisement to the lightness of the offence. The king, 
 however, was inexorable, and declared that the prisoner should 
 not be enlarged unless a fox, equal in cunning and tricks to 
 the one he had lost, should be procured. Then, continues 
 the legend, our saint set before the king and his courtiers the 
 fox which had accompanied her in the chariot, and which 
 appeared to rival the former one in gambols and devices. 
 Seeing this, the king was greatly pleased, and forthwith com- 
 manded the captive to be set at liberty. The abbess drove 
 home to her monastery with a glad heart, leaving her late 
 travelling companion in high society at Court, but with no
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 47 
 
 injunction laid on him to give up his free life in the woods and 
 dwell in bondage in the house of kings. So when reynard 
 had finished his feats, playing and sporting for the great folks, 
 he adroitly mingled with the outer crowd, and, in an opportune 
 moment scampering off to the wilds " with the hosts of 
 Leinster behind him, both foot and horse and hound," he 
 speedily regained his freedom and his den. 
 
 This brings us to the last of Brigid's characteristics which it 
 is necessary to refer to here, namely, her hatred of slavery. 
 The fact of a fellow-creature being deprived of his liberty by 
 an irresponsible tyrant, or subjected to a servile yoke in 
 punishment for some trifling offence, touched her com- 
 passionate heart to its depths, and moved her to undertake 
 his deliverance at any cost. Incidents connected with such 
 enterprises abound in the story of her life. With the free step 
 of a chieftain's daughter, yet with all the sweet modesty of a 
 Christian virgin, she would enter the presence of king or 
 kinglet, and say, in her frank and gentle way : " Wilt thou set 
 that captive free for me ? " Probably her request would be 
 granted ; and the gracious prince would receive the saint's 
 thanks, and be the richer for her blessing. But should her 
 prayer be denied, then Brigid, who sometimes "displayed in 
 her works not only the power and charity of a saint, but the 
 poetic and romantic imagination of a daughter of Erin," 1 would 
 fall back on other resources plan an escape, or effect a release ; 
 and before the next day dawned, would know that the poor 
 bond-slave had been restored to the liberty of the sons of God. 
 Indeed, so frequently was Brigid concerned in liberating 
 persons unjustly imprisoned or enslaved, that some writers 
 appear to think it must have been her special mission to 
 preach release to the captives and deliverance to them that are 
 shut up. M. de Villemarque directly attributes to her ardent 
 love of freedom, the intense devotion with which her country- 
 men regarded her: ''a passionate devotion," he adds, "such 
 as no other mortal woman inspired." 
 
 Already we have had occasion to introduce, as personal and 
 highly-esteemed friends of our saint, three of the fathers of the 
 Irish Church, disciples of St. Patrick and bishops of his 
 nomination, namely, Maccaille of Offaly, Mel of Ardagh, and 
 Ibar of Beg Erin. There now comes upon the scene another 
 1 M. de Villemarque, La Legende Celtique et la pocsie des Cloitres.
 
 4 8 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 patriarch of the early Christian period, likewise associated 
 in holy friendship with the "chaste head of the nuns of Erin." 
 This was St. Ere of Slane. While still a youth and acting as 
 page at the Court of Leoghaire, monarch of Ireland, Ere had 
 the good fortune to hear the apostle preach the gospel of 
 Christ, and the grace to receive with joy the tidings of salva- 
 tion. At a critical moment he, like Duvach the chief poet, 
 bore testimony to the truth, by showing a marked respect to 
 the venerable stranger who had come from a distant country 
 to teach the way of life in the land of the Gael. Following 
 Patrick, the young disciple became a proficient in sacred and 
 secular knowledge, as well as a bright example of saintly 
 living. He appears to have devoted himself in a special 
 manner to legal studies. Sometimes he is referred to as a 
 Brehon, or as " Patrick's sweet-spoken judge." In course of 
 time the apostle, having erected a monastery at Slane, ap- 
 pointed Ere abbot, and conferred on him episcopal consecra- 
 tion. Towards the close of his career, the bishop retired into 
 solitude and took up his abode in a little hermitage, the ruins 
 of which are still standing on the northern bank of the Boyne, 
 not far from the site of the monastery once subject to his rule. 
 At the period, however, when he became acquainted with St. 
 Brigid, he was still engaged, like most contemporary bishops 
 and abbots, in active missionary work, and took a leading part 
 in the ecclesiastical movements and deliberations of the day. 
 Having occasion to visit his relations in Munster, he wished 
 Brigid and some of her companions to make a journey to the 
 south at the same time ; and the abbess, greatly desiring to see 
 certain holy persons and consecrated places in that part of the 
 country, willingly undertook the expedition. 
 
 The place towards which the saints directed their steps was 
 situated in the south-eastern part of Tipperary, and called 
 Mag-Femyn, or the plain of Femyn. It was the territory of 
 the Decies, a tribe descended, like Brigid herself, from Here- 
 mon, son of Milesius, through Fiedlimidh the Lawgiver; and 
 this kindred people snowed great respect to the holy woman, 
 who spent no idle time, but days full of missionary work, 
 among them. Multitudes came to see her and to ask her 
 blessing and her prayers, while the sick and afflicted were 
 brought from all parts to be healed and comforted by this 
 favoured servant of God. Just at this juncture a great synod
 
 ST. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 49 
 
 of the prelates and priests of Erin was held at Mag-Femyn, 
 under the presidency of St. Ibar. According to an extremely 
 ancient record, three thousand father-confessors met at this 
 convocation. Bishop Ere, of course, was among the assist- 
 ants ; and we learn that he took occasion to give an account 
 to the fathers in council of the remarkable woman, then so- 
 journing in the territory of the Decians, who had done so 
 much to spread the Christian faith in different parts of the 
 island, and whom the Almighty had endowed with such 
 miraculous powers. We can readily fancy how the Bishop 
 of Slane's exalted opinion of the humble Brigid must have 
 been indorsed by her no less devoted friend, Ibar of Beg 
 Erin. 
 
 A singular memorial of this event, the synod of Mag- 
 Femyn, survives in a poem composed by St. Brigid, under the 
 inspiration of the soul-stirring scene presented by the gather- 
 ing of the father-confessors in the southern plain. "In this 
 poem," says a recent author, " her desire to do temporal service 
 to God's dear ones is told in the quaint language of the times. 
 She would have food for them in great abundance, the viands 
 of belief and true piety; she would have vessels of charity for 
 distribution ; she would have Jesus to be there, and the three 
 Marys, and the people of heaven from all parts ; and she 
 would like to suffer distress for her Lord, and to be a rent- 
 payer to Him, for He would bestow on her a good bless- 
 
 iHg?] 
 
 Brigid, praised thus in the assembly of the saints, found 
 herself, as an immediate consequence, pressed with invitations 
 to visit various territories, establish religious communities, and 
 aid in converting and instructing the people. Indications of 
 her journeys and her work at this time may still be traced 
 along the shores of the Irish Sea, from Tramore to Bray, and 
 through the inlying parts of the kingdom of Hy Kinselagh and 
 the plains of Limerick. Even in cases where material struc- 
 tures or other objects which once stood as testimonials of her 
 mission have crumbled into dust, the memory of the obliterated 
 monuments survives in the expressive nomenclature of the 
 Gael. In every direction we come on spots invested with a 
 
 1 Eugene O'Curry, in the Manuscript Materials of Ancient Irish 
 History, gives this poem in the original Irish, as preserved in a MS. volume 
 in the Burgundian Library at Brussels. 
 
 4
 
 50 57'. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 traditional sanctity, and designated by terms signifying Brigid's 
 church, Brigid's house, Brigid's well,- and so on. 
 
 Limerick's plains are the scene of several interesting inci- 
 dents in the life of our saint, such as the story of the lesson on 
 fraternal charity, most impressively given by her to two lepers ; 
 and the account of the pursuit of a fugitive slave by a cruel 
 mistress, who, on refusing Brigid's entreaty for mercy, and 
 attempting by force to wrest the unhappy creature from the 
 saint's protecting arm, met with a striking punishment from 
 heaven. Here, too, we have localised the significant and 
 characteristic legend of the harps, \vhich, narrated with slight 
 variations by sundry writers, 1 may be given in the following 
 version : 
 
 While the blessed Brigid had her abode in Cliach plain, a 
 district stretching over the country round Knockany, she went 
 one day with her companions to visit a certain chief and 
 obtain the release of a captive held by him in durance. 
 When the travellers arrived at the rath, or rampart-defended 
 dwelling of the great man, she learned that he was not at 
 home. He was away on some expedition, attended by his 
 principal officers and the harpers. However, the chiefs foster- 
 father and some of his sons were in the house, and they, 
 receiving the visitors with all reverence and joy, offered them 
 hospitality. After a simple repast had been partaken of, both 
 hosts and guests continued an interesting conversation, in the 
 course of which Brigid, observing the harps hanging on the 
 wall, as was customary in great houses, requested the young 
 men to play to her some of the ancient melodies of the 
 country. " Alas ! " replied the eldest, " neither I nor my 
 brothers have practised the art, and the bards are absent." 
 Then one of Brigid's companions half-jestingly bade him ask 
 the abbess to bless his hands, so that he might be enabled to 
 harp for her. " Bless our fingers," said he, " good mother, 
 and we will do all in our power to gratify you." She touched 
 their fingers with the tips of her own, saying some prayers in 
 a low voice ; and when the young men sat down to the instru- 
 ments, they drew from them such sweet and powerful melody 
 
 1 The version which we follow closely, appeared more than twenty years 
 ago in the Dublin University Magazine. The article in which it found a 
 place was entitled, "Celtic Saints," and must have been written, we think, 
 by that lover of Irish lore, the late Patrick Kennedy.
 
 ST. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 51 
 
 as never was heard in that hall. So enthralling was the music, 
 that it seemed as if the performers never could tire of playing, 
 nor the audience grow weary of listening. Meanwhile the 
 chief and his retinue, returning home, heard the bewitching 
 strains as they approached the rath, and wondered whence the 
 rich melody proceeded. Entering the great hall, they beheld 
 the harps in the hands of the untaught musicians ; but re- 
 cognising Brigid and her daughters in the midst, they ceased 
 to wonder. The chief forthwith asked his honoured guest to 
 bestow a blessing on him also, and this she readily promised 
 to do, provided that he would liberate the captive. Orders 
 were at once given to have the prisoner set free, and 
 the hoiy joy of the evening was ' complete. Not for the 
 hour merely was the bardic gift bestowed on the favoured 
 youths. They retained their power over the harp-strings as 
 long as they lived. Their descendants inherited the gift, 
 and for generations were harpers of renown in the houses 
 of kings. 
 
 The western province, hitherto unvisited by St. Brigid, was 
 now to be the scene of one of her active and successful 
 missions. At what point she crossed the Shannon on entering 
 Connaught cannot be determined ; but it is certain that her 
 pious labours were carried on principally, if not exclusively, in 
 the plains of Roscommon, at erritory roughly corresponding 
 with that of Hy-Many, or O'Kelly's country. Throughout 
 Mag-Finn, the southern part of this district (now the barony of 
 Athlone), evidences may still be traced of her beneficent work, 
 and of the singular veneration in which her memory was held 
 in succeeding ages. The old church of Drum, and that of 
 Camach, where the people of Hy-Many received the sacrament 
 of baptism, were dedicated under her invocation ; and the 
 famous fountain, Tober-Brigdhe, or Brideswell, situated seven 
 or eight miles from Athlone, long continued to be the resort of 
 pious pilgrims doing honour to the saint, and of afflicted 
 persons trusting to the healing virtues of its crystal-clear 
 abounding waters. Bredach, a part of this region lying east of 
 the river Suck, was blessed in a very special manner by the 
 abbess ; and the local chiefs, in grateful remembrance of this 
 favour, assumed the name of O'Maoilbrighde, signifying thereby 
 that they were the devotees or servants of Brigid. Under this 
 title, proudly borne, the '' majestic chiefs of Bredach " figure
 
 52 ST. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 in song and story. 1 Nor had the tribes of Magh-ai, the 
 northern division of the plains of Roscommon, less reason to 
 cherish a devotion to the holy woman, who made a prolonged 
 stay among them also. This territory, extending from the 
 present town of Roscommon to the barony of Boyle, had been 
 already visited and Christianised by St. Patrick, who founded 
 churches in various places, and left certain of his disciples in 
 charge of the convert flocks. In some of these missionary 
 stations the apostle appointed pious women, named in the 
 ancient records, to aid in the further work of instruction and 
 conversion. Places near Shankill and Fairymount are inti- 
 mately associated with the history of this early evangelisation. 
 Rathcroghan will never ' be forgotten as the scene of that 
 incident, so full of idyllic grace, in the life of St. Patrick, the 
 conversion of King Leoghaire's daughters, and the of two Druids 
 who fostered and educated the royal maidens. At Elphin, 
 another converted Druid gave his rath and the adjoining land 
 as a site for a church ; and there Assicus, a famous artist in 
 metal, and one of the apostle's first disciples, was placed, first 
 as resident missioner and afterwards as bishop. Among a 
 people whom Patrick himself had so lately evangelised, Brigid's 
 labours must have been attended with unusual consolation. 
 Evidently she discovered many religious vocations in the 
 homes of the native population ; for she founded numerous 
 cells and monasteries, peopling them with chosen souls devoted 
 to the task of extending the faith beyond the pagan frontiers, 
 and perfecting the Christian life in the hearts of the already 
 regenerated tribes. Kilbride, a parish adjoining that of 
 Roscommon, perpetuates in its very name the memory of her 
 church ; and within its area, in the demesne of Holly well, a 
 spring held sacred to her may still be seen. Ballintober, once 
 a place of importance, unnoted now save for the military and 
 monastic ruins occupying its site, owed its origin to another 
 memorial of the saint. The ancient name, Ballytoberbride, 
 simply means the town of Brigid's well. 2 
 
 1 See the Tribes and Customs of Hy-Many, translated and edited by 
 John O'Donovan for the Irish Archaeological Society. O'Maoilbrishde 
 was in later times shortened to O'Mulbride, and finally anglicised Mac- 
 Bride. 
 
 2 For other places in this district named as the conjectured site of 
 monasteries and cells (i.e. smaller and dependent settlements) founded by 
 St. Brigid, we must refer the inquirer to Canon O'Hanlon's Lives of the
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 53 
 
 Considerable time years certainly must have been con- 
 sumed in our saint's nomadic apostolate throughout the south 
 and west. Her constant and fatiguing journeys were not tours 
 of inspection simply ; neither were they made for the purpose 
 of founding religious houses by the comparatively easy method 
 of transplanting into a new locality grafts of already hardy 
 growth from a parent stock. On the contrary, everything had 
 to be begun in each several instance from the very beginning : 
 the spiritual life developed in the lately-converted populations ; 
 religious vocations sought out and cherished ; the material 
 structure of monasteries and churches effected. Primitive in 
 design as the early churches necessarily were, they should 
 nevertheless be furnished with all that was requisite for the 
 becoming celebration of the holy sacrifice and the adminis- 
 tration of the sacraments. We can fancy the first nuns learning 
 to weave the rare stuffs required to drape the altar and to vest 
 the priests, while mastering at the same time the delicate art of 
 church embroidery ; but we know there was much else needed 
 for the divine worship which women's hands could not supply 
 chalices, for instance, wrought in precious metals, tabernacles 
 handsomely fashioned, sweet-toned bells hammered in bronze, 
 missal folios, and transcribed antiphonaries. Nor could these 
 precious things have been procurable from traders or ordinary 
 
 Irish Saints, vol. ii., a mine of Brigidine lore, from which we have freely 
 drawn in this sketch ; not, however, without permission respectfully asked 
 and courteously granted. 
 
 The Rev. J. J. Kelly, in an article on the " Antiquities of Boyle" (Irish 
 Monthly, vol. vii. ), says that it is believed the celebrated beauties of the 
 last century, the Gunning sisters, resided at one time in Hollywell House. 
 We may add that, according to a local tradition, these more than comely 
 maidens owed something of the loveliness of their complexion to their 
 ablutions in St. Brigid's holy well. Later in its history, the well was 
 purposely desecrated by the then owner of the demesne lands ; holly trees 
 were planted around, and ihe ancient meaningful name of Holywell was 
 changed to Hollywell. The present resident, Mr. Henry Smith, has had 
 the good taste to save from entire destruction this relic of a hallowed 
 antiquity, by enclosing the spot where, under the shade of a guardian 
 tree, the scanty waters of the reservoir represent the once brimming 
 fountain in whose waters, in all human probability, the first converts of 
 Magh-ai were regenerated unto life eternal. 
 
 Some of St. Brigid's wells in the Methian territory, it may be mentioned, 
 are described in an interesting paper by Mr. John M. Thunder, published 
 in the Journal of the Royal Historical and Archaological Association of 
 Ireland, January 1887.
 
 54 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 artificers. They must have been acquired by Brigid's churches 
 as offerings from friendly communities of religious men, among 
 whom were to be found, as a rule, goldsmiths, workers in 
 brass, bell-makers, and accomplished scribes, whose artistic 
 labours were piously devoted to the service of religion, the 
 adornment of the house of God, the glory of the altar of 
 sacrifice. Passing strange it would have been if the sister- 
 hoods of ancient Erin had not been enriched by the generosity 
 of the artist cenobites ; for brotherly charity was not merely 
 kind in those days, it was chivalrous. We are told, for 
 example, that if any difficulty should arise in locally establish- 
 ing a community of nuns, the sisters would apply for aid to the 
 religious men already living in the place, and " if there was no 
 spot in the neighbourhood suitable for the sisters, the monks 
 abandoned to them their abode, their buildings and cultivated 
 fields, where the crops were growing, taking with them naught 
 save the sacred vessels and the books they might need in the 
 new establishment they went forth to found elsewhere." l 
 
 Brigid in all probability would have extended her missionary 
 journeys much farther westward than the plains of Connaught,. 
 had she not been recalled to her native province in a some- 
 what urgent manner. While she was still residing in Magh-ai, a 
 deputation of Leinster men crossed the Shannon, and, present- 
 ing themselves before the holy woman, represented to her that 
 the Lagenians were much concerned at her long absence, and 
 had sent them as envoys to entreat her to return without delay, 
 found a central religious house, and fix her chief residence in 
 the midst of her own people. So well did the Leinster men 
 state their case and press the request of their compatriots, that 
 the abbess acknowledged the reasonableness of the view set 
 before her, and dismissed them with the assurance that she 
 would turn her steps homeward before very long. In due 
 course, therefore, together with a few companions, she passed 
 southward through the district she had first visited in 
 Connaught, making for the Ford of the Moon (Athluan), the 
 great pass between the provinces, and a place of importance in 
 connection with the pagan worship of the Star of Night 
 Emerging at this spot from the dense wood that clothed the 
 west bank of the river to the water's edge, an ill-omened vision 
 met the travellers' gaze. A band of Lagenians were engaged 
 1 Rev. A. J Thebaud, The Irish Race in the Past and the Present,
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS O^ K1LDARE 55 
 
 in battle with the Connacians, disputing the passage of the 
 stream. Still, with the aid of a boat, the nuns might hope to 
 reach the opposite shore in safety. However, some ill-con- 
 ditioned men who were there demanded so unreasonable a fee 
 for ferrying over the wayfarers, that the latter, rather than 
 submit to the imposition, resolved to attempt the ford. Con- 
 fident that the Lord would open a way to His servants, the 
 nuns asked Brigid to bless the waters, that so they might pass 
 over. While they were thus deliberating, a party of clerics 
 arrived in a boat, and, seeing the dilemma, offered to take one 
 of the travellers across. The abbess desired a sister who 
 seemed more timorous than the others to accept the kindness, 
 while she and the rest stepped bravely into the stream, and, to 
 the astonishment of the people who were looking on, got safely 
 to the opposite side, the water not reaching to their knees. 
 Meanwhile the clerics' boat, not so fortunate, sank in the 
 middle of the current ; but, protected by the saint's prayers, the 
 passengers escaped unharmed, and in the end rejoined, on the 
 Leinster shore, the travellers who had ventured so courag- 
 eously on foot through "spacious Shenan, spreading like a 
 sea." 
 
 Warm was the welcome awaiting the " dear saint of Lagenia " 
 when, about the year 490, she reached the territory of the 
 tribes claiming her in a special manner as their own. This 
 territory, now the county of Kildare, was called Caelan, that is, 
 " the woody country " ; and the name well described its physical 
 aspect, for it was in fact a continued forest, save in one part 
 where a gently undulating plain of extraordinary verdure 
 presented a pastoral tract of unusual beauty and extent. The 
 surface of this smooth expanse was varied here and there by 
 the ramparted residence of some prince or chief, and by an 
 occasional mound of artificial construction denoting the 
 monument of an ancient king, or the burial-place of a host of 
 warriors slain in battle ; while its pastoral character was 
 diversified by its periodic use as a place for popular assemblies 
 and for the celebration of the national sports, in which both 
 kinglets and tribesmen took vast delight. Among these sports, 
 racing, especially chariot-racing, held a prominent place, and 
 " Curragh," the name given to the grassy reach, indicated its 
 association with the favourite amusement of the Gael. It 
 would appear that the woodland growths had never intruded
 
 56 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 on this champaign tract ; but at the north-western verge one 
 giant of the forest, a majestic oak, stood out in advance of its 
 comrades, forming in its solitary position a landmark for the 
 traveller, and an object of admiration to the observer of the 
 beautiful aspects and wondrous creations of nature. Brigid, in 
 the words of an old writer, "loved the tall oak and blessed it," 
 and resolved to take up her abode beneath its leafy shade. 
 While she was considering how she could procure wherewithal 
 to erect her group of monastic huts on the spot, there happened 
 to pass by a train of one hundred horses laden with wattles 
 and peeled rods, prepared in the adjacent woods for the use of 
 the King of Leinster, Ailihill, son of Dunlaing. Immediately 
 it occurred to her to ask the prince to bestow on her this 
 treasure of building materials, and she despatched some of her 
 companions to make the request. Ailihill graciously granted 
 what was asked ; and he did something more, for he sent men 
 to stake the ground and interweave the wattles, and paid them 
 while they worked under Brigid's directions. 
 
 As soon as it became known that the head abbess had 
 established her residence at Cill-dara, the cell or church of 
 the oak, 1 it followed, as a matter of course, that pious women 
 came from all parts, asking to be admitted into the religious 
 family and allowed to join in the good work undertaken for 
 God and the people of Erin. According as the community 
 increased, the cells became more numerous, and the monastery 
 widened its bounds beyond the circuit of the great oak's 
 waving boughs. In like manner, the few fields which at first 
 sufficed to pasture the sheep and cows of the new foundation 
 and grow the necessary crops, no longer answered to the needs 
 of the establishment. Evidently the dynasts of the adjacent 
 territories were truly Irish in their generosity, and gave the 
 abbess whatever land she required for tillage and grazing. 
 Only one of the local lords, it would seem, met her request 
 with a denial, and this exceptional case gave rise to an amusing 
 legend. One day the too conservative toparch stood on a 
 
 1 Bearing in mind that C is always pronounced as K in Irish, the origin 
 of the name of the town and county of Kildare becomes at once apparent. 
 The trunk of the venerable oak was still standing at the end of the tenth 
 century, when Animosus, Bishop of Kildare, and author of a life of St. 
 Brigid, wrote that no one dared to cut it with a weapon, but that pieces 
 were broken off with the hand and treasured as relics.
 
 ST. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 57 
 
 rising ground overlooking the Curragh, and beside him was 
 Brigid, in her snow-white veil and flowing mantle, with four of 
 her nuns in attendance. The great man had just declared 
 that he did not see his way to granting the field in question 
 to the monastery. "At anyrate," said the abbess, "you will 
 give me as much ground as my mantle will cover?" He 
 could not say no ; but the moment he said yes, the four 
 sisters, taking hold of their mother's cloak, fled away, swift 
 as the wind, north, south, east, and west, covering the 
 ground with the yielding vesture ; until the owner of the soil, 
 thrown into a state of consternation, implored the abbess to 
 call them back before they had overrun the whole of Ireland. 
 Brigid smiled at his insistance, called back the sisters, and, 
 having made some telling observations on the necessity of 
 correcting an avaricious disposition, accepted the grant of the 
 field which she had originally asked for, and which was now 
 bestowed on her with more than goodwill. 
 
 That Brigid looked well to the paths of her house in every 
 direction, we can have no doubt; but that she devoted particular 
 attention to her flocks and herds is especially dwelt on by her 
 early panegyrists. Sometimes when distinguished persons arrived 
 at the monastery, she was in the fields, and " came from her 
 sheep" to receive the visitors. It was not an unheard-of thing 
 for the abbess to return home with her garments all wet with the 
 rain that had fallen on her in the unsheltered ground When the 
 old writers record that Brigid was " mortified beyond all woman- 
 kind"; that she was constantly thinking of God, and constantly 
 mentioning Him ; that she was hospitable and charitable to 
 guests and needy people, they do not forget to add that she 
 " loved sheep-herding and early rising." One translator of an 
 ancient eulogy writes " watching" instead of " sheep-herding" ; 
 and we cannot help thinking that it is highly probable the 
 Abbess of Kildare was wont, like the shepherds on the Judean 
 hills, to keep night-watches over the flocks ; and that in the 
 solemn evening hush, as well as in the joyous waking up of 
 morning, her pious and poetic soul found food for medita- 
 tion, and inspiration for the hymn of praise that made 
 perpetual melody in her heart. This idea throws a light 
 on the lovely legend of Brigid and blind Dara, and we feel 
 that the incident must have occurred while the abbess and 
 the sightless sister were with the sheep on the Curragh
 
 5 8 57: BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 downs one holy, happy, summer night. The legend runs 
 thus : 
 
 One evening Brigid sat with sister Dara, a holy nun who 
 was blind, as the sun went down ; and they talked of the love 
 of Jesus Christ and the joys of Paradise. Now their hearts 
 were so full that the night fled away while they talked together, 
 and neither knew that so many hours had sped. Then the 
 sun came up from behind the Wicklow mountains, and the 
 pure white light made the face of earth bright and gay. Then 
 Brigid sighed when she saw how lovely were earth and sky, 
 and knew that Dara's eyes were closed to all this beauty. So 
 she bowed her head and prayed, and extended her hand 
 and signed the dark orbs of the gentle sister. The darkness 
 passed away from them, and Dara saw the golden ball in the 
 East, and all the trees and flowers glittering with dew in the 
 morning light. She looked a little while, and then, turning to 
 the abbess, said, " Close my eyes again, dear mother; for when 
 the world is so visible to the eyes, God is seen less clearly to 
 the soul." So Brigid prayed once more, and Dara's eyes grew 
 dark again. 1 
 
 Flocks and herds tended by Brigid, and pastured on the 
 Curragh turf, were sure to do credit to their keeping. No such 
 milchers were anywhere to be found ; and it was believed that 
 whenever the abbess was in a dilemma, caused by the arrival 
 of travellers at a moment when the dairy supplies ran short, 
 her cows, generous like herself, would freely yield even a third 
 milking in the day. People began to .covet the possession of 
 one of those milky mothers. A distressed neighbour would 
 come to the monastery, and wind up a doleful narrative by 
 saying, that there would be an end to his embarrassment and a 
 certainty of good fortune for the rest of his life if the abbess 
 
 1 The above version of the legend is taken from the Rev. S. Baring- 
 Gould's Lives of the Saints, vol. ii. This writer, though not a son of the 
 Church, shows a true appreciation of the beauty and value of the legendary 
 matter in the lives of saints. Some Protestant authors affect to cut through 
 a troublesome knot, by saying that the story of St. Brigid is full of wild 
 legends. If the legends are "wild," it must be with the wild freshness of 
 "incense-breathing morn," when the world was young and faith had still 
 the power to remove mountains. It must be said that the author of the 
 Dictionary of Christian Biography evinces, like the writer just named, a 
 better understanding of the value of legendary lore. Dr. Smith says that 
 in the legends of St. Brigid " there is no little beauty, and in almost all we 
 find an undercurrent of true human feeling and deep religious discernment."
 
 ST. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 59 
 
 would give him one of the cows in the pasture ; or another, 
 less scrupulous, would attempt cattle-lifting on a small scale, 
 and, choosing an opportune moment, drive off one of the 
 choicest of the herd. However, it became known in the 
 end that the cattle obtained as a gift behaved in their new 
 paddock exactly like the common of the herd they had come 
 amongst ; while those that were surreptitiously driven away 
 contrived to give their captor the slip, after leading him a wild 
 chase through the wood, or procuring him a good drenching 
 in the river. A waggish young man once took it into his head 
 to try what lengths Brigid's charity might carry her to, and 
 thought that it would be no great sin to amuse himself at the 
 expense of one who sometimes, as he fancied, showed so little 
 discernment in selecting the objects of her bounty. Accord- 
 ingly, he presented himself before her with a very sad story, 
 and, for the immediate relief of his feigned distress, was given 
 a fine fat sheep to take home. By and by, assuming a successful 
 disguise, he reappeared with a different but equally harrowing 
 tale, and was rewarded for his cleverness by receiving a present 
 of another of the flock. And so it went on until eventide, 
 when he had seven sheep safely hid at some distance, ready to 
 be driven quietly away to his own land. Great, however, was 
 his astonishment and disappointment when, on going to finish 
 the day's business, he saw that all his labour had been in vain : 
 the sheep he obtained under false pretences were not anywhere 
 to be seen ; they had got off in some unaccountable manner, 
 and were browsing at large in the saint's pastures. 1 
 
 1 In a paper on the Curragh of Kildare, printed in The Proceedings of the 
 Royal Irisk Academy, vol. ix., our Celtic scholar, Mr. W. M. Hennessy, 
 gives a very interesting account of this famous sheep-walk and racecourse. 
 He observes that although the Curragh was called in succeeding ages 
 "Brigid's pasture-ground," it does not seem likely that the saint had 
 obtained a grant of the whole tract, but it is certain she had pastures there. 
 He thinks it is probable that she did not interfere with the races. And 
 indeed we may be sure that she did not ; for she always showed a great 
 regard for the rights and customs of the people. Besides, the national 
 sports were under State control, so to speak ; and the ancient Irish being a 
 remarkably temperate people, their amusements were of a harmless and 
 orderly character. To the fact that the poor were never forbidden to graze 
 their cattle on St. Brigid's land has been attributed, Mr. Hennessy says, 
 the origin of the communal character of the tract. 
 
 Giraldus Cainbrensis, writing in the twelfth century, has much to say 
 about Kildare, "celebrated for the glorious Brigid." He thus speaks of
 
 fyo ST. B RIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 Meanwhile, the ever-increasing fame of the wonder-working 
 Brigid drew to Kildare such a concourse of people of every 
 rank and condition, anxious to see and converse with the 
 abbess, or present her with gifts, or obtain her prayers, advice, 
 and assistance, that little time must have been left her in the 
 end for the meditative seclusion of the breezy downs. Some 
 of her friends and clients, who had been wont to journey from 
 distant places to celebrate the great festivals at the monastery, 
 conceived the idea of permanently taking up their abode in its 
 vicinity. Some also, who were anxious to have their children 
 profit by the instruction which the nuns made it their first duty 
 to impart to all comers, encamped within reach of the Cell of 
 the Oak. While others, again, obeying the pious instinct to 
 congregate round so attractive a centre of religious life, planted 
 their homesteads within hearing of the bells. Nathfraich, 
 faithful friend and chaplain, was no longer able to break 
 single-handed the Bread of Life to the fluctuating but steadily- 
 increasing congregations that gathered in for God's sake and 
 Brigid's ; and it became necessary to make adequate provision 
 for the spiritual wants of the old converts, the children born in 
 the faith, and the younger generation of catechumens still 
 awaiting immersion in the saving waters of baptism. In all 
 probability, too, it occurred to Brigid's spiritual guides, the 
 fathers of the Irish Church, that what took place not very 
 long before at Armagh was quite likely to be re-enacted at 
 Kildare, and that while providing for present needs, future 
 requirements should likewise be considered. What happened 
 at Armagh was this : Patrick, having built a church the largest 
 and most beautiful in the kingdom on an elevated site given 
 to him for that purpose by a man named Macka, 1 established 
 a monastery close by, took up his residence at the place, and 
 
 the Curragh : "In this neighbourhood there are some very beautiful 
 meadows called Brigid's Pastures, in which no plough is ever suffered to turn 
 a furrow. Respecting these meadows, it is held as a miracle that although 
 all the cattle of the province should graze the herbage from morning till 
 night, the next day the grass would be as luxuriant as ever." 
 
 Modern writers describe the Curragh as a fine undulating down, forming 
 a sheep-walk of above 6000 acres, with an extremely soft and elastic turf 
 perpetually green. The occupiers of the adjacent farms have alone the 
 right of pasture. The plain has been for at least 2000 years the great 
 racing ground of Ireland. 
 
 1 Whence Ard-Macha, or Madia's height, modernised Armagh.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 61 
 
 fixed there his metropolitan see. The great school or college 
 attached to the religious establishment attracted thither such 
 a number of persons, that the place became the seat of a 
 settled population, developed into a town, and speedily grew 
 to be a centre of very great importance. 
 
 At anyrate, the venerable pastors saw that it would be well 
 to have a bishop resident at Kildare, to assist Brigid in govern- 
 ing her churches, to consecrate them, to confer orders, and to 
 perform all the functions of the sacerdotal office ; l and that, as 
 she was abbess above all other abbesses, the bishops with her 
 at Kildare should be similarly above all bishops in her other 
 monasteries. 2 In testimony of the exalted estimation in which 
 the mother of the Churches was held by the first fathers of 
 the Christian flock of Erin, the nomination was left to Brigid, 
 and she was required to designate an ecclesiastic who should 
 receive episcopal consecration, reside near her monastery, and 
 discharge the sacred functions just now particularised. The 
 abbess immediately named a holy priest called Conlaeth, 
 leading a secluded life on the banks of the Liffey, and desired 
 that he should be summoned from his retreat to carry the 
 pastoral staff at Kildare. 
 
 Conlaeth, the venerable recluse whom Brigid desired to see 
 raised to the episcopate, with jurisdiction over all her churches 
 and monasteries, was a man of rank, tracing his descent from 
 King Laeghaire Lore, the son of Ugaine Mor. His reputation 
 stood high for sanctity and the possession of a prophetic spirit; 
 and he was distinguished among the ecclesiastical artists of the 
 time for the beauty of his workmanship in gold and silver. 
 The hermitage in which he had taken up his abode stood on 
 the right bank of the river Liffey, at a place afterwards called 
 Old Connell, near Newbridge. His solitary mode of life was 
 somewhat exceptional at a juncture when the secular clergy, as 
 well as religious men, lived mostly in communities, and when 
 all, as a rule, were actively engaged in missionary labours. 
 Prayer, study, and the making of sacred vessels and church 
 requisites occupied his days, which, however, were not so abso- 
 lutely secluded that he did not sometimes go abroad in obedi- 
 ence to pious promptings, or in answer to the calls of charity. 
 It is thought probable that he traversed the plain of the 
 
 1 Martyrology of Tallagh, annotated by the Rev. Matthew Kelly. 
 
 2 Smith's Dictionary of Christian Biography.
 
 62 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 Liffey : more than once to visit the Cell of the Oak. At anyrate, 
 we have the account of one such visit, the first evidently, which 
 gives some interesting details. On that particular occasion, 
 Conlaeth, desiring to have an interview with the Abbess of 
 Kildare, set out in his chariot, attended by a boy, and drove 
 across the Curragh to the monastery. Having arrived at the 
 enclosure, he was greeted with the cordial welcome invariably 
 accorded to visitors and travellers, and when he had been re- 
 freshed in the guest-house, the abbess received him with her 
 wonted courtesy, and introduced her nuns to the holy man. 
 For some days the honoured guest remained at the monastery, 
 giving religious instruction to the community. When the time 
 came for returning to his hermitage, he desired his youthful 
 attendant to put their yokes on the necks of the horses, and 
 get all ready for the homeward journey. Then the traveller 
 ascended the vehicle, while the abbess came forth from her 
 dwelling to take leave of her departing guest. He, like so many 
 others who had tarried there, being reluctant to leave without 
 Brigid's blessing, asked her to extend her hand in benediction 
 over him, that so he might safely accomplish his journey. 
 With a sign of the cross the abbess then blessed the saintly 
 hermit, who had so edified and enlightened the sisterhood 
 during his welcome visit. Furthermore, she gave a blessing to 
 the youth in waiting, though, as it afterwards transpired, he had 
 not, by his attention to the duties of his calling, quite merited 
 the favour. For Conlaeth, on reaching his riverside retreat 
 and descending from his chariot, discovered that the bosses or 
 fastenings, which should have been attached to the axle in order 
 to prevent the wheels from falling off, had been forgotten by 
 the boy while yoking the vehicle. Astonished that the journey 
 had been happily accomplished under these circumstances, the 
 man of prayer immediately praised God for his deliverance 
 from accident, and extolled the merits of the saint, to whose 
 blessing he attributed his miraculous preservation. 2 
 
 Summoned by the Church to undertake onerous and public 
 
 1 Mr Hennessy, in his paper on the Curragh, already referred to, says 
 that Liffe was the old name of the plain of Kildare, and that the river flow- 
 ing through it obtained the name of Amhain Liffe, or river of Liffe. This 
 indicates the origin of the strange title, Anna Liffey, given to the stream on 
 which Dublin is seated. 
 
 Lives of the Irish Saints , vol. v.
 
 ST. DRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 63 
 
 duties, it must have been a severe trial to Conlaeth to quit his 
 beloved solitude. Nevertheless, it cannot but have consoled 
 him to think that his new vocation associated him in the apos- 
 tolic work with one whom he so honoured as the saint of 
 Kildare with one whose influence in the religious affairs of the 
 lately Christianised land was so exceptionally great. That the 
 nomination was looked on as a joyous event was shown by the 
 number of Patrick's mitred sons who came from various parts 
 to assist at the new bishop's consecration, and to congratulate 
 with Brigid on the auspicious occasion. For, as the principal 
 establishments of religious men had each a resident bishop, so 
 the granting of the same favour to the house of religious women 
 at Kildare was regarded as the highest mark of approval that 
 the fathers of the Church could bestow on the institute 
 founded by the head abbess of Ireland. Truly it was a con- 
 gress of saints, this gathering of Patrick's bishops to consecrate 
 the sainted hermit and do honour to the mother of the 
 churches. 1 St. Maccaille came from Offaly, to witness the 
 crowning of the work commenced years before, when he gave 
 the veil to the little band of pious virgins with Duvach's 
 daughter at their head. St. Ibar wended his way once more 
 from the eastern territories. St. Ere crossed the country from 
 Slane. St. Broon, who it would appear had visited Brigid 
 while she was in Connaught, journeyed from West Cashel, in far- 
 off Sligo. One great friend of earlier days, St. Mel of Ardagh, 
 was absent ; he had been already called to his heavenly reward. 
 But, as if to supply his place, there came another illustrious 
 prelate, who probably had not hitherto been included in the 
 number of Brigid's personal friends, St. Fiech of Sletty, 
 chief bishop of Leinster. This was the handsome youth, 
 alumnus in the school of bards, who followed the example of 
 his preceptor, the arch-poet of the king and kingdom, and 
 rose to do honour to Patrick in the audience chamber at Tara. 
 Baptized not long after by the apostle, subsequently tonsured, 
 and eventually consecrated by the same hands, Fiech exercised 
 episcopal jurisdiction in Idrone, a territory now included in the 
 county of Carlow. 2 
 
 1 See Brenan's Ecclesiastical History of Ireland. 
 
 - The genius of poetry, far from deserting the Christian bishop, accom- 
 plished great things in him under the inspiration of divine faith. A 
 metrical life of the apostle, written by Fiech, is still extant, and extremely
 
 64 57: BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 Conlaeth's installation at Kildare having been celebrated 
 with all the solemnity and joy befitting the occasion, the new 
 bishop, so lately hid in solitude, threw himself into the active 
 life of the apostleship with all the ardour of an experienced 
 missioner. The Christian life advanced with no tardy progres- 
 sion in those days, and he found himself in due course at the 
 head of a body of clerics whose duty it was to serve the church 
 and monastery, instruct the people at large, and teach in a 
 great school or college to which youths of every rank resorted 
 for religious and secular education. We can fancy the students 
 grouped in classes, and encamped in huts clustered in the 
 vicinity of the enclosure occupied by the bishop and his priests ; 
 and we can understand that in this scholastic establishment 
 was included a seminary in which young men, aspiring to the 
 priesthood, made their studies and dwelt together until, on the 
 completion of their course, they received holy orders at the 
 hands of blessed Conlaeth. One of the alumni in this division 
 attracted, in a casual but striking way, the notice of the abbess, 
 who, it is evident, did not exclude the youthful seminarists 
 from the range of her motherly sympathies. The student's 
 name was Ninnid, and he was of the race of Niall of the Nine 
 Hostages. Though engaged in serious studies, it would appear 
 that his manners were still those of a giddy and frolicsome 
 youth. One day, as Brigid was crossing the Curragh on her 
 way to a place lying not far off in an easterly direction, she 
 met this student. As soon as he saw the reverend abbess he 
 scampered off in a way that struck her as unbecoming, and she 
 sent one of her religious to call him to her. Ninnid was not 
 over-eager to obey the summons. When he did come, and 
 the mother asked him whither he was going with such speed, 
 he pertly answered that he was running to the kingdom of 
 heaven ! " I wish," said the saint, without appearing to notice 
 the want of deference in his manner, " that I deserved to run 
 with you to that blessed place ; but pray for me that I may one 
 day arrive there." Touched by her words and her forbearance, 
 the youth recollected himself, and made a respectful answer, 
 saying : " Oh, saint, do you in like manner entreat the Almighty 
 
 valued by antiquaries. A poem in honour of St. Brigid, beginning with 
 these words, "Audite Virginia Laudes," is likewise attributed to him, 
 but the distinction of having composed it is also claimed for two other 
 poet-saints.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 65 
 
 that my course towards the heavenly kingdom may be a con- 
 stant one. In requital, I will pray for you, with many other 
 persons, that you may attain to immortal happiness." From 
 that day forth Ninnid gave up his schoolboy ways, practised 
 prayer and penance, and loved to converse with the holy 
 abbess. She assured him that his true vocation was to the 
 priesthood, and foretold that he should attend her in her last 
 moments. " On the day of my death," she said, " I shall 
 receive communion of the body and blood of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ from thy hand." Ninnid replied : " Would that thou 
 couldst live until thou receivest Holy Eucharist from me !" for 
 he thought within himself that he would go abroad into a 
 foreign country, so that, waiting for his return, she might live 
 to extreme old age. Hearing that he it was who should ad- 
 minister the last sacraments to the dying saint, he resolved 
 never to soil the hand that was to convey to her the holy 
 viaticum ; and with this intention, keeping thenceforth the hand 
 perpetually covered, he received the name of Ninnidh Lam-glan, 
 that is, Ninnid the Clean-handed. 1 
 
 Of course, the erection of a church, sufficiently large to 
 accommodate the nuns and the scholars and the population 
 of the growing town, had now become a necessary and urgent 
 work. Brigid set about it with her characteristic energy ; and 
 there is reason to believe that her church at Kildare, when 
 completed, was a remarkable one for the age, and second only 
 to the cathedral of Armagh in dimensions and beauty. No 
 more elaborate design than that of an ark was contemplated, 
 nor was any material employed in the- superstructure other than 
 planed timber. But whereas the ordinary churches had only a 
 few small windows and a single western doorway, this edifice 
 had a number of lights and four separate entrances. By the 
 door on the right, the bishop and his clerical ministers entered 
 the sanctuary. Through a corresponding opening on the left, 
 passed the abbess, with her virgins and widows ; while the aisle, 
 divided by a partition, and having two separate entrances, was 
 occupied by the lay congregation the men on one side and the 
 women on the other. In regard to the sacred furniture of the 
 
 1 It is commonly said that the hand was kept covered unto the end ; but 
 the original narrator must have meant to signify, that it was thus guarded 
 until, anointed with the sacred unction of the priesthood, it was consecrated 
 to offer the pure oblation at the altar. 
 
 5
 
 66 ST. BRIG1D, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 church and the altar, it is evident that costly materials and rare 
 workmanship were expended in its production. Incidentally 
 we learn how beautiful some things were, when it is related, as 
 an instance of Brigid's boundless charity, that, at a season when 
 famine prevailed in the country, the abbess, in her anxiety to 
 relieve the distressed people, disposed of the magnificent vest- 
 ments worn by Bishop Conlaeth, when he celebrated the Holy 
 Mass on Sundays and the festivals of the apostles. The 
 cathedral of Armagh, which St. Assicus, invited from Elphin 
 for the purpose, spent a considerable time in beautifying and 
 providing with sacred vessels and other requisites, made by his 
 own skilled and pious hands, can hardly have been more 
 splendidly furnished than Kildare. Tabernacles, chalices, 
 reliquaries, pontifical insignia were fashioned by "Brigid's 
 chief artist," that is to say, by Conlaeth himself, or wrought by 
 trained artificers under his direction. 1 
 
 Brigid's church, standing between the bishop's residence and 
 the monastery, added another charm to Kildare, attracting 
 thither pilgrims and visitors of every grade, all of whom were 
 cordially received and freely entertained at the monastery. 
 How this open -house style of hospitality was kept up, it 
 would not be easy to understand, did we not remember that 
 Brigid was a wonder-worker, and her cook a saint. 2 
 
 Hospitality had been established among the pagan Irish, as 
 among the kindred Celtse of the Continent ; who never shut 
 their gates at night, lest the traveller should come and be dis- 
 appointed when they were asleep, and not ready to receive 
 him. But when Christianity took possession of the land, the 
 kindly custom received a special consecration, and became a 
 sacred duty, a joyous service. 
 
 In Brigid's institute, the duty of hospitality ranked next after 
 
 1 A crosier, owned in ancient days by St. Finbahr, of Termonbarry, in 
 Connaught, and believed to be the work of St. Conlaeth, is preserved in 
 the museum of the Royal Irish Academy. Gold literally abounded in 
 Ireland at the time we are speaking of ; partly the produce of the native 
 mines, and partly the plunder obtained in the piratical expeditions of the 
 adventurous kings. 
 
 2 "St. Brigid is reckoned, by the writers of her life, among the greatest 
 ornaments of Ireland, and on account of the miracles ascribed by her, they 
 have given her the surname of Thaumaturga, or wonder-worker." Harris' 
 edition of Sir James Ware's Irish Writers. Of St. Blatha, anglicised 
 Flora, commemorated on the 29th January, little is known, except that she 
 was St. Brigid's cook, or econome.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 67 
 
 the education of the poor. 1 Indeed, in all the ancient Irish 
 monasteries it held a high place, and was exercised in accord- 
 ance with the most liberal and generous ideas. The religious 
 seem to have had scriptural instances always before their 
 minds, and to have thought that, in entertaining strangers, they 
 might receive, like Abraham, angel's visits unawares ; or, in 
 pressing the traveller to come in, they might perchance welcome 
 the Lord Himself, as did the favoured disciples at Emmaus. 
 As soon as the approach of strangers was signalled at an Irish 
 monastery, the whole establishment showed signs of a joyous 
 expectancy. They were conducted to the hospice for travellers, 
 where their feet were washed ; while a hymn was sung and a 
 short homily delivered. Then, a banquet having been pre- 
 pared, they were ushered into the guest-room, where the superior 
 of the house and some of the community sat down to table 
 with them. In order that an air of festivity might universally 
 prevail, all the religious received some addition to their ordi- 
 nary simple fare ; and if the day happened to be a penitential 
 one, the fast was dispensed with. Even a saint, whose practice 
 it was to fast daily until sunset, except on Sundays and chief 
 festivals, would sit down with the guests and pilgrims and eat 
 together with them, in imitation of Christ. 
 
 Brigid's visitors, many in number and equipped in travellers' 
 guise, would sometimes lose their way in the woods encircling 
 the Curragh, and fail to reach the monastery before nightfall. 
 Once this happened to some men who came from a distance, 
 bringing presents on horses and in waggons to Kildare. The 
 saint had a prophetic intuition of their distress, began to pray 
 to God for them, and, with full confidence that succour would 
 be sent to the friends overtaken by darkness in the depths of 
 the forest, said to her nuns : " Kindle a fire and warm some 
 water, that the feet of guests expected to-night may be washed." 
 The nuns wondered at her saying that men were journeying 
 through the darkness on that night. Meanwhile a great light 
 appeared to the travellers, illuminating the path that had been 
 obscured, and enabling them to reach the monastery in safety. 
 An ancient legend brings before us, in a very picturesque way, 
 the scene of an arrival of travellers at the Cell of the Oak. It 
 is related, that St. Broon set forth on one occasion to visit the 
 abbess, bringing with him horses, chariots, and a considerable 
 1 See Brenan's Ecclesiastical History of Ireland.
 
 68 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 following of attendants. Night coming on when they were at 
 no great distance from the monastery, the travellers had to halt, 
 in severe weather, in the midst of a dense wood, and give up 
 any idea of proceeding farther. Presently an extraordinary 
 vision appeared to them : a vision having all the vividness and 
 comfort of a most pleasing reality. The monastery rose up 
 before them, and they saw the saint, with her companions, 
 joyfully coming out to meet them. She led them into a large 
 hall, took off their sandals, washed their feet, and refreshed 
 them with abundance of meat and drink, setting Scotic cups 
 (the Irish mether) before them. The nuns took care of the 
 horses and vehicles, as it seemed, and placed beds for the 
 travellers to lie on. After a comfortable night's rest, Bishop 
 Broon and his escort awoke, and were astonished to find them- 
 selves still in the woods, with no monastery or other habitation 
 within sight. Meanwhile, at break of day, the abbess called to 
 her nuns to come and meet Bishop Broon and his companions, 
 who had been straying through the woods during the night. 
 So Brigid and the sisters set out, and, penetrating into the 
 leafy solitude, soon found the travellers sitting down in the 
 forest. The holy bishop now understood that a miracle had 
 been wrought on Brigid's account ; and all, turning their steps 
 forthwith to the monastery, thanked God for His fatherly 
 providence, and the happy termination of the journey. After 
 a stay of some days, the travellers prepared to set out for their 
 distant home. The abbess gave the bishop a valuable present, 
 a ciborium or other sacred vessel, which, unfortunately, was 
 lost on the road. The cleric into whose care it had been given 
 came in tears to holy Broon, to tell him what had happened. 
 But the bishop calmed him, saying he could not himself weep 
 under the circumstances ; for he did not believe that the devil 
 had power to cause the loss of any gift bestowed by Brigid. 
 In a short time the treasure was found. 1 
 
 It is hardly necessary to observe, that poor pilgrims and way- 
 farers met with an equally cordial reception at the Cell of the 
 Oak. The needy and the afflicted were believed to be the 
 Lord's own, and were treated as such. Indeed, whenever 
 Brigid's manner fell short of its accustomed geniality, it was 
 when persons of rank presented themselves before her with 
 their artificial distresses and their low ambitions. " The poor 
 1 Lives of the Irish Saints, vol. ii.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 69 
 
 and the peasants are almost all good and pious," she once 
 said to a sister, who wondered why the mother, so accessible to 
 the wives of peasants, refused to go to receive King Connal's 
 daughter-in-law, when that royal lady came to the monastery to 
 make a request ; " but the offspring of kings," she added, " are 
 serpents, children of blood and wickedness, except a small 
 number of elect." However, this was quite an exceptional 
 case. Kings and princesses usually met with a reception 
 second only to that awaiting the sons of light, God's holy 
 ministers, and the heirs of the kingdom of heaven, the meek 
 and humble of heart. And if the great folks were not zealous 
 for the higher gifts, nor willing to seek first the kingdom of God, 
 she would, nevertheless, try to procure for them some secondary 
 blessing. There were seasons when the mighty ones of the land, 
 arriving with their host of retainers and brilliant bodyguard, 
 were truly welcome ; and these were the seasons of Easter and 
 Pentecost, which brought Brigid's royal friends to celebrate the 
 holy festivals at the monastery. Such visits were not uncommon. 
 King Ailihill has been already mentioned, as a friend in need 
 to the abbess. His brother, Illand, had likewise a great rever- 
 ence for her, though he certainly was not a spiritually-minded 
 man. The princely brothers, sons of Dumlang, were baptized 
 by Patrick in their youth, and they appear to have reigned 
 conjointly for some time over the kingdom of Leinster. Illand 
 was essentially a man of war, and Brigid's father was among 
 the chieftains who followed him to battle. On one occasion 
 the saint went to the royal residence to visit the warrior king, 
 having a request to make on the part of her father. When she 
 and her nuns approached the dun, one of Illand's servants 
 came and besought her to obtain his release from bondage, 
 promising at the same time that, if he regained his freedom, he 
 and his family would become her servants for ever, and make 
 profession of the Christian faith, together with his kindred and 
 posterity. The saint said she would endeavour to obtain his 
 manumission. Conducted into the presence of the king, she 
 laid her father's petition before him, and then asked, as a favour 
 for herself, that the man who had spoken to her might be set 
 free. Illand answered, that should he grant what she asked, he 
 would expect to receive at her hands some good thing for him- 
 self; whereupon she assured him that she would pray that he 
 might obtain eternal life, and that kings of his line might reign
 
 70 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 to the end of time. Then said the prince with astounding 
 candour : "The life which I do not see, I seek not; as for my 
 sons, who shall succeed me, I have no care ; two other things 
 give me, namely, that my days may be long in this present 
 life, which I love, and that I may be victorious in every battle." 
 Brigid told him that these desires should be gratified in requital 
 for the favour she entreated, and, presently taking her leave, 
 she gave her blessing to the king. Shortly after this interview, 
 Leinster's lord led a small army into the enemy's country, 
 where he was met by a superior force of Ulster men. Seeing 
 the disadvantage of his position, he called aloud to his soldiers, 
 desiring them to advance with courage and invoke the assist- 
 ance of Brigid, who certainly would redeem her promise. 
 Thereupon the Lagenians rushed to the encounter, with cries 
 that rent the heavens, and so terrified their opponents that 
 they took to flight, and left them in possession of the field. 
 Thirty battles in Ireland, and eight or nine in Britain, were 
 gained by the warrior-king ; and his alliance was sought by 
 powerful dynasts. Even after his death, his name was a terror 
 to the enemies of Leinster. When the old foes swooped down 
 to annihilate the hosts no longer led on by Illand, the Leinster 
 men took the king's body from the tomb, arrayed it royally, 
 drove a war- chariot with the ghastly freight right into the 
 hostile ranks, and reaped a victory, which they attributed to 
 the still enduring potency of Brigid's protection. 1 
 
 Although the name of the dear saint was shouted thus by 
 an excited soldiery on the field of slaughter, nothing could be 
 less attractive to her than the royal game of war. Of all the 
 earthly blessings which she desired for the people gathered 
 round her, in the little city growing up beside the monastery, 
 peace was the first in order. That this spot of earth should be 
 secure from hostile invasion, free from civil commotions, and 
 dowered with halcyon days, became the object of her efforts 
 and prayers. In a word, she was resolved that not only should 
 the monastic precincts, and the church with its adjuncts, be 
 held inviolate, but that Kildare city should be a consecrated 
 place a sanctuary respected by all. Accordingly she took the 
 necessary means for obtaining the desired privileges, and sent 
 to her old friend and adviser, St. Ibar, requesting him to come 
 
 1 Rev. John F. Shearman's Loco. Patriciatta, and Canon O'Hanlon's Lives 
 of the Irish Saints.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 71 
 
 to Kildare and mark out the boundaries of town and suburbs, 
 within which the rights of sanctuary should be extended to all 
 dwellers and to all comers. Inside these lines, deeds of blood- 
 shed and violence became impossible ; those who fled thither 
 were out of reach of infuriate foes ; even fugitives from justice, 
 should they come, might not be cruelly, nor even summarily, 
 punished, but should have time for inquiry, defence, repentance. 
 Thus the saint founded her city of refuge, and gave it a peace 
 which endured, without a break, for full three hundred years. 
 
 Well may it be supposed that Brigid's relations with the 
 people amidst whom she dwelt were of the happiest kind. 
 Truly, no sceptred queen wielded greater power, no tender 
 mother attracted greater love and trust. The tribesmen, to 
 whom "the veiled virgin who drives over the Curragh" was a 
 familiar and a beautiful sight, came to her in every sorrow, diffi- 
 culty, and need; and she responded to their appeals in her 
 own great-hearted way, praying for them, fasting for them, 
 working heaven and earth to serve them and make them 
 happy. We find her so often going about doing good, that we 
 almost wonder how she had time for her religious exercises. 
 But we know that the interior life cannot have been neglected, 
 else she would not have been the saint she was. Furthermore, 
 we have ample evidence that, on the intellectual side, she 
 suffered no eclipse from her daily cares and manifold engage- 
 ments. We can hardly picture her in the scriptorium, spending 
 undisturbed hours composing a treatise in prose, or giving voice 
 to a poem ; but we can easily fancy that, in the pastoral quiet 
 of the sheep-walk, with the blue mountains on the horizon, and 
 the dark forests in view, and the breeze chasing cloud-shadows 
 over the grassy plain, she might well clothe in words her pious 
 thoughts, set free the imagination, and hymn the praises of the 
 great Creator. According to ancient writers, she wrote, besides 
 the poem already referred to, several tracts on the ascetic life, 
 a rule for the nuns of her own foundation, a letter to St. Aid, 
 the son of Degill, dissuading him from travelling, and a treatise 
 entitled "The Quiver of Divine Love." Father John Colgan 
 had the last three in his possession when he published his 
 Triadis Thaumaturges, in 1647. 
 
 The transcription and illumination of manuscripts was 
 another work carried on at Kildare. The abbess took delight 
 in this beautiful and invaluable art, employed scribes, and
 
 72 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 superintended their labours. One of the books thus produced, 
 the Four Gospels, in St. Jerome's version, was preserved 
 at Kildare, as the greatest treasure, for hundreds of years. 
 Giraldus Cambrensis, writing soon after the Anglo-Norman 
 invasion, says that, among all the miracles in Kildare, nothing 
 appeared to him more wonderful than that marvellous book. 
 He often saw and closely scrutinised the drawings, illuminated 
 with a variety of brilliant colours, and always discovered fresh 
 causes for increased admiration. Hector Boetius (obit. 1550) 
 mentions this book as having seen it; and Stanyhurst, an 
 historian of the Elizabethan era, remarks that it was " preserved 
 as a monument" at Kildare. It was so beautiful, people 
 believed it never could have been the work of human hands 
 not supernaturally assisted. In this wise was the book com- 
 posed, says Cambrensis : " Early in the night, before the 
 morning on which the scribe was to begin the book, an angel 
 stood before him in a dream, and, showing him a picture, 
 drawn on a tablet which he had in his hand, said to him : 
 ' Do you think that you can draw this picture on the first page 
 of the volume which you propose to copy ? ' The scribe, who 
 doubted his skill in such exquisite art, in which he was unin- 
 structed and had no practice, replied that he could not. Upon 
 this the angel said : ' On the morrow, entreat your lady to offer 
 prayers for you to the Lord, that He would vouchsafe to open 
 your bodily eyes, and give you spiritual vision, which may 
 enable you to see more clearly, and understand with more 
 intelligence, and employ your hands in drawing with accuracy.' 
 The scribe, having done as he was commanded, the night 
 following the angel came to him again, and presented to him 
 the same picture, with a number of others. All these, aided 
 by divine grace, the scribe made himself master of, and, faith- 
 fully committing them to his memory, exactly copied in his 
 book in their proper places. In this manner the book was 
 composed an angel furnishing the designs, St. Brigid praying, 
 and the scribe copying." l 
 
 As the day wore on, and the evening of life, with its solemn 
 shadows and holy hush, began to close round Brigid, a new 
 
 1 The Topography of Ireland. For a description of "a very elegant, 
 illustrated manuscript of the Topography," now extant in the King's 
 Library, British Museum, see Dr. J. T. Gilbert's Account of Facsimiles 
 of National Manuscripts of Ireland.
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 73 
 
 generation of saints arose to take the place of Patrick's first 
 disciples. All the bishops of the apostle's nomination who 
 have been mentioned in this sketch, except perhaps St. Fiech, 
 predeceased the Abbess of Kildare. There was another among 
 the venerable company of the fathers of the Irish Church 
 who also was a friend of our saint, and often came to visit and 
 take counsel with her. This was St. Ailbe of Emly, "the 
 second after Patrick in Munster." He survived her for several 
 years. Many of the younger band, like their masters in the 
 spiritual life, formed ties of friendship with the Mary of Ireland. 
 St. Brendan, in this as in much else, followed the example of 
 his preceptor, St. Ere of Slane. St. Finian of Clonard, him- 
 self " a teacher of many saints," preached before the abbess 
 and her community. Gildas the Wise must be also named as 
 a personal friend. Though born in Britain, his parents were 
 Irish, and, when he was about thirty years of age, he came to 
 their native land " to perfect himself in the knowledge of philo- 
 sophy and the sacred sciences," visiting " many schools of 
 learned men," teaching in Armagh, and preaching for some 
 time in the island. 1 He sent, as a token of friendship to the 
 Abbess of Kildare, a bell worked by his own hands, which 
 was treasured by her as a relic, and long preserved at the 
 monastery in memory of St. Gildas of Glastonbury. 
 
 And, as if to link her with a third generation of the primitive 
 saints, Tighernach of Clones was brought to her in his infancy, 
 and reverentially laid in her arms. His mother was the 
 daughter of a king of Ulster. His father, Corbre, a native of 
 Leinster, and a warrior in the service of the dynast, carried 
 him soon after his birth into Leinster, that he might be baptized 
 at Kildare. It is related that, when Corbre entered the guest- 
 house with the infant co'vered up and hid in his arms, Brigid 
 beheld a watch of angels on the roof. She sent to inquire 
 who had arrived, and was told that a young man was there. 
 The abbess was not satisfied, and bade the messenger look 
 again. "There is, in sooth," quoth he, returning, "a little 
 babe in the young man's bosom." "Good is the babe," said 
 she; and then Bishop Conlaeth baptized the infant, while 
 Bridget held him at the font. 2 
 
 1 Cardinal Moran, Irish Saints of Great Britain. 
 
 2 Rev. M. Comerford, Collections relating to the Dioceses of Kildare and 
 Leighlin. Second series.
 
 74 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 Several sainted women are named in connection with the 
 Abbess of Kildare, as members of her community, or as 
 disciples who profited by her teaching and were sustained and 
 encouraged by her, although their call may have been to 
 labour elsewhere. For the most part, we know them only by 
 name. Hidden saints, truly ! But this we know, that they it 
 was who carried on the work of the founder of the institute of 
 nuns in Erin, and spread abroad all over the land that spirit 
 which animated the first sisterhoods, and is maintained in full 
 vigour even at the present moment that spirit which unites 
 the active duties of charity to the contemplative vocation in 
 religion. However, some few of the companions or disciples 
 of our saint have not been so completely enveloped in silence, 
 and two among them must receive more than mention here. 
 The first, Darludacha, while yet very young, attached herself 
 to the abbess, followed her everywhere, and was called her 
 alumna, or foster-child. Later on, though still in the saint's 
 company, she encountered a rude assault .of the enemy j she 
 was hurt with a wound of earthly passion, bravely strove to 
 overcome the temptation, and in the end gained a heroic 
 victory. Brigid, unsuspected by the soul in anguish, divined 
 the nature of the trial, watched the struggle with sympathetic 
 heart, and prayed for the sufferer. When Darludacha 
 learned how the mother had striven for her with heaven, she 
 attached herself still more closely to her guardian ; and became 
 so perfect a disciple, that she was regarded by the foundress as 
 the one best fitted to undertake the government of the monas- 
 teries when she herself should be called away. 
 
 The other saintly woman whom we shall here refer to as united 
 in holy friendship with the Abbess of Kildare, was Edana, or 
 Modenna, a native of Ulster, who led for some time a solitary 
 life in an island off the western coast, under the spiritual guid- 
 ance of St. Ibar, and afterwards dwelt at Killeevy, where the 
 ruins of her oratory may still be seen. From Brigid she 
 received a silver shrine, which was long held in great veneration. 
 Later, she led an austere and laborious missionary life in Scot- 
 land, founding many churches and monasteric institutions. 
 " Edinburgh is commonly supposed to have been so called from 
 a fort erected there by King Edwin ; but long before that mon- 
 arch's time, St. Edana's sanctuary there was a place of pilgrim- 
 age, and it is, in truth, from this virgin saint of Ireland that
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 75 
 
 the modern names of Maiden Castle and Edinburgh are 
 derived." l 
 
 And now the end of this marvellous career drew nigh. This 
 holy soul, this free and joyous spirit, this woman of high con- 
 templation and many works, received the higher call. She 
 was summoned to render up her spirit in her own Island of 
 Saints, while the full radiance of the risen sun of Christianity 
 was upon it ; in the heart of Lagenia ; in the Cell of the Oak. 
 She set her house in order, and made regulations for the wel- 
 fare of her sanctuary-city ; and then, calling Darludacha to her, 
 foretold that death was at hand, and laid upon her junior the 
 burden of the monastic government. Darludacha was in 
 despair, and besought the mother to ask God that she might 
 rather die with her, than survive the friend of her heart and 
 soul. But Brigid, telling her that this could not be, and that 
 the work must be carried on, consoled her withal by assuring 
 her that it would be for a short time only, and that after a year 
 she should follow on the same day, so that they should be 
 remembered together. 
 
 Meanwhile Ninnid Lam-glan, being then in Rome on a pil- 
 grimage, was admonished by a heavenly messenger to return 
 home and attend the abbess in her last moments. Hastening 
 over sea and land, the pilgrim reached Kildare, and he of the 
 clean hand administered to the dying saint the sacrament of 
 the body and blood of the Lord. Angels waited to carry the 
 beatified soul to God; and when Brigid departed, her ob- 
 sequies were celebrated by all the bishops and clergy of 
 Ireland. 
 
 According to the Annals of the Four Masters, this event 
 occurred in the year 525. All authorities agree in naming the 
 first of February as the day of St. Brigid's decease. Her 
 festival has always been kept on that day ; and even now, in 
 the Irish-speaking parts of Ireland, February is called the 
 month of Brigid's festival. The people, who revered and loved 
 the saint during her life, cherished her memory with a no less 
 honourable affection. They believed, as their posterity con- 
 tinued to believe, that she holds the second place among 
 women in the kingdom of God. "Except Mary," exclaims 
 one of her ancient biographers, " who can compare with my 
 
 1 See Irish Saints in Great Britain, referring to the authority of Mr. 
 Skene, the learned historian of Celtic Scotland.
 
 ;6 ST. BRIG ID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 bride ? " National bards celebrated her praises. Teachers of 
 religion recounted her virtues and her miracles. The frater- 
 nity of poet-saints. Fiech, Nathfraich, and Ultan of Ardbrackan ; 
 Columba, Brendan, and Brogen Cloen ; Ninnid and Kilian 
 of Inis-Keltra, wrote each a metrical life of the patroness 
 of Ireland, or composed a hymn in her honour. Men of 
 prayer chanted these pieces ; the multitude learned them 
 by heart. Re-set, re-sung, transfused, translated, the melo- 
 dious chime pealed down the ages, like bells in a cathedral 
 tower. 
 
 Having her titles of honour in the Church, she had likewise 
 her titles of love in the household. In naming her, the Irish dis- 
 carded the prefix " Saint." There was no necessity to distinguish 
 her, seeing there was but one Brigid. They addressed her as 
 Mo-Bride, just as if we should say, " My Bride," or " Our own 
 Brigid." According to their ideas, it would not be humble or 
 respectful to call their children after her. But little maidens 
 were given a name which signified they were the saint's devotees, 
 and it was hoped they would grow up in the type of Brigid. 
 Sons of the people were christened Mael Brighde, or Giolla 
 Bride, meaning the servant of Brigid ; and sons of the Church 
 styled themselves Brigidianus, or Calvus Brigitae, that is, the 
 shaveling or tonsured of Brigid. The honourable order of 
 scribes appear to have been particularly devout to her, and to 
 have trusted to her for a special blessing on their studious and 
 pious labours. There were several of the name of Maelbrigte 
 among the most famous of the craft. A manuscript of the 
 four Gospels, by Maelbrigte MacDurnan, adorned with figures 
 of the Evangelists, and " pre-eminently elegant initial pages," 
 was presented by King Athelstan to Canterbury. This scribe 
 was Abbot of lona in 891, and afterwards Archbishop of 
 Armagh, and this work of his, a gift worthy of a king, is " one 
 of the most precious and remarkable manuscripts in the library 
 of Lambeth Palace." Another manuscript of extraordinary 
 interest, by another Maelbrigte, and of a much later date, was 
 stolen from the Bibliotheque du Roi, at Paris, and after some 
 time found a home in the British Museum, where it still abides. 
 " Frequent appeals to Brigid were, in the eighth and ninth 
 centuries, entered by Irish transcribers abroad on the margins 
 of their manuscripts, still extant at Milan and St. Gall, in such 
 terms as : /// nomine Ihesu et Sand& Brigita ; Fave Brigila :
 
 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 77 
 
 San eta Brigita adiuva Scriptorem istius artis." 1 A greater 
 than the scribes, the most learned man of the eleventh century, 
 enjoyed a European celebrity as Marianus (Scotus) the 
 Chronicler, but was remembered in Ireland, his native land, as 
 Maelbrigte. 
 
 For three hundred years after the death of St. Brigid, Kildare 
 enjoyed great privileges in the midst of a halcyon calm. By 
 the Brehon laws, the kings of Leinster were enjoined to pay 
 special veneration to the patroness of Lagenia, and tribute to 
 her convent. Visiting her shrine became one of the four 
 great pilgrimages of Ireland ; the other holy places being 
 Glendalough, Clonmacnoise, and Lough Derg. Rather early 
 in the seventh century, a house of Canons Regular of St. 
 Augustine was founded in the sanctuary city, and in connection 
 with it schools were carried on, long celebrated for their accom- 
 plished scribes and learned professors. Religious hospitality 
 was exercised on such a liberal scale in this establishment, that 
 it was called the " Stranger's Home." With no less generosity, 
 the traditional hospitality of their institute was maintained by 
 the abbesses of Kildare throughout the reign of peace, and 
 despite the reign of disturbance and vicissitude. At all hours 
 of the day and night they were ready with a blazing hearth to 
 receive the pilgrim, the stranger, and the traveller. Come 
 weal, come woe, they had the welcome waiting, they had the 
 lamp alight, and this for a thousand years. 
 
 St. Brigid's peace did not so long endure. The pirate 
 Norsemen, hungering for plunder, and abhorring the Christian 
 name, swooped down on the city of refuge, in 835, burned 
 half the church, and stripped of their golden ornaments the 
 splendid shrines of the first abbess and the first bishop of 
 Kildare. Dreading a desecration of the sacred relics, the 
 Lagenians, about fifteen years later, removed the body of 
 their patroness to Ulster, and laid it beside that of St. 
 Patrick, at Down. Shortly afterwards the remains of St. 
 Columba were transported thither, and for a like reason, from 
 lona; and thus did the three patrons of Erin find secure 
 sepulture together. Thenceforth Kildare suffered many 
 
 1 Account of Facsimiles of National Manuscripts of Ireland, in which 
 invaluable work Dr. Gilbert gives the history and description of the 
 above-mentioned surviving work of scribes who were the "servants of 
 St. Brigid."
 
 78 ST. BRIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 
 
 outrages now sacked by the Danes, now ravaged by the Irish ; 
 yet, withal, not ceasing to be a hallowed spot. 
 
 Meanwhile St. Columba and his disciples, in diffusing the 
 gospel light throughout Dalraida, Strathclyde, and the hundred 
 isles of the West, spread devotion to St. Brigid wherever they 
 went. Monasteries and towns took her for their patron ; " the 
 far Scotic Islands, the shrines of St. Bride," recalled her name ; 
 the Scots and the Picts, no less than the Irish, " looked on her 
 as second only to the Blessed Virgin Mary " ; l she was held in 
 such honour by these nations, as well as by " Britons, Angles, 
 and Irish, that more churches were dedicated to God in her 
 memory than to any other of the saints." 2 In a word, " the 
 number of churches dedicated to her exceeds the power of our 
 enumeration." 3 Many noble families chose her for their pro- 
 tector. When the Douglas swore, it was by St. Bride. And 
 when that heroic race privileged to have the leading of the 
 van of the king's army in the day of battle rushed to the 
 encounter, it was to the cry, 6 1 /. Bride for the Douglas ! 
 
 Far beyond the limits of our island fastnesses, the Irish 
 missioners dispersed over the Continent carried the name and 
 fame of the Mary of Ireland. To them, in a great measure, 
 was due the extraordinary veneration paid to her in every part 
 of the Western Church. Brigid became one of the very few 
 Celtic names of European popularity. 4 Everywhere we meet 
 the name, under various adaptations, of the gentle saint who 
 was universally known as the Glory of the Irish (Scotorum 
 Gloria}. " Wherever the Irish monks have penetrated, from 
 Cologne to Seville, churches have been raised to her honour." 5 
 She was commemorated in the divine office in most churches of 
 Germany, and in that of Paris, and in many others in France. 6 
 Four different ecclesiastical offices for her festival were com- 
 posed ; 7 and that festival was celebrated for more than a 
 thousand years in every cathedral church, from the Grisons to 
 the German Ocean. 8 
 
 And now, in regions unreached even by the swift-winged 
 
 1 Boetius. 2 Leslie, Bishop of Ross. 3 Bishop Forbes. 
 
 4 Charlotte M. Younge, History of Christian Names. 
 6 Montalembert, The Monks of the West. 
 
 6 Alban Butler, Lives of the Saints. 
 
 7 Brenan, Ecclesiastical History of Ireland. 
 
 8 Stephen White, Apologia.
 
 ST. B RIGID, ABBESS OF KILDARE 79 
 
 imagination of the ancient race, in the New World of the 
 West, beyond the Atlantic billows, and in the New World of 
 the South, seated in Pacific waters, the " sea-divided Gael " 
 still hold, with inviolable fidelity, the guardianship of her name 
 and fame. Brigid has a niche in the churches ; Brigid has a 
 seat by their hearth. In the heart of the Irish at home and in 
 exile, an echo of St. Brogan's hymn resounds 
 
 "There are two virgins in heaven 
 Who will not give me a forgetful protection, 
 Mary and Saint Brigid : 
 Under the protection of both may we remain."
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 " O Family ! O Race ! indeed it is doubly noble ; deriving their courage 
 from the Trojans and their skill in arms from the French." 
 
 So said I might almost say, so sang Gerald de Barry (Cam- 
 brensis) at a time when the noble progeny, of which he himself 
 was so distinguished a scion, were beginning to strike root in 
 the land of the West they had lately invaded as soldiers of 
 fortune, and in which they were destined to run a career such 
 as would have astonished even their accomplished kinsman 
 who thus, with a flourish of trumpets, first marshalled their 
 ranks in the pages of our history. 
 
 The claim to a Trojan ancestry, put forward in behalf of the 
 Geraldines, may raise a smile in our incredulous days, but it 
 created no astonishment at the period when their good cousin 
 lived and wrote. Least of all did this assumption surprise 
 their Irish vassals, for the sons of Erin would hold in poor 
 esteem a race that did not link itself to generations lost in the 
 depths of ages, and were wont to trace back the history of their 
 own renowned chieftains to antediluvian eras. Anyhow, the 
 historiographers of the Geraldines long continued to set down 
 the descent of the family from ^Eneas as a fact beyond question- 
 ing, and were accustomed to relate how the fugitive hero, having 
 landed on the coast of Italy, and acquired dominion over 
 Latium, divided the territory among his followers, one of 
 whom, the ancestor of the Geraldines, received as his portion 
 the region of Hetruria, where Florence now stands. We 
 might wish that Father O'Daly, after stating thus much, in his 
 account of the Desmond Geraldines, had given us in some 
 detail, the history of this Tuscan settlement. But the erudite 
 
 80
 
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 8 1 
 
 Dominican attempts nothing of the kind. He dwells not at 
 all, in the text of his work, on the close relationship which he 
 believes to exist between the distinguished house of the Gher- 
 ardini of Florence and the noble branches of the Geraldines of 
 Ireland ; contenting himself with alluding to this connection in 
 the dedication of his book to the most eminent princes, Antony 
 and Francis Barberini, cardinals of the Holy Roman Catholic 
 Church, patrons and protectors of the Irish nation. It suffices 
 for his purpose to remind their eminences, "learned in the 
 history of the Kildares and Desmonds," that " from the banks 
 of the Arno, and the shores of the blue Tyrrhene Sea," the 
 branches of the great tree, " thither transplanted from the 
 desolate plains of Troy," extended themselves to the far-off 
 land of Erin. 1 
 
 Leaving the domain of fable, and passing over, for the 
 moment at least, the debatable ground of Hetruria, let us note 
 by what stages those Geraldines made their way to new homes 
 and high fortunes in more northern climes. The account, now 
 generally accepted as probable, states that the powerful family 
 of the Gherardini of Florence having become involved in the 
 political troubles of the times, various numbers migrated to 
 transalpine lands. One of these exiles entered the service of 
 the Duke of Normandy, and in course of time he, or one of 
 his immediate descendants, passed into England. This last 
 migration is variously stated as having occurred in the reign of 
 Edward the Confessor, or as having taken place at the time of 
 the invasion of the country by William the Conqueror. The 
 most reasonable conjecture appears to be that the first of the 
 race who obtained possessions and fixed his home in Britain, 
 came on the invitation of King Edward, whose partiality for 
 the Norman cavaliers among whom he had been brought up 
 in the days of his exile in France, and whom he favoured to 
 the exclusion of his British subjects on his accession to the 
 throne was the source of disastrous commotions during his 
 reign. It is sought to identify this emigrant descendant of 
 the Florentine stock with a certain Dominus Otho, who was 
 an honorary baron of England in the sixteenth year of the 
 reign of the Confessor (1057), and possessor of no less than 
 thirty-three lordships in different parts of the country. That 
 
 1 Rev. C. P. Meehan's translation of Father Dominic O'Daly's History of 
 the Geraldines, Earls of Desmond. The history was written about 1650. 
 6
 
 82 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 this wealthy Lord Otho was a stranger in the land, seems to be 
 established by the fact that, on the arrival of the Normans, his 
 son, Walter Fitz-Otho, was not treated as a subjugated Saxon, 
 but was favoured as a fellow-countryman by the invaders. At 
 the time of the general survey of the kingdom (1078), he is 
 mentioned as owner of all his father's estates, and holding the 
 important offices of castellan of Windsor and warden of the 
 forests of Berkshire. Walter Fitz-Otho married Gladys, the 
 daughter of Rywall of Conwyn, a prince of North Wales, and 
 had three sons. William, the eldest, succeeded his father as cas- 
 tellan of the important Berkshire keep ; Robert's title was that 
 of Baron of Estaines, in Essex ; while Gerald established him- 
 self in Wales, married a daughter of the most illustrious princely 
 house of the southern province, and reared a progeny from 
 whom descended many noble families of England and Ireland, 
 and all the Geraldines we know in song and story. 
 
 This Gerald Fitz- Walter de Windsor, in choosing to push his 
 fortune in Wales, planted himself in a land fitter for the trade 
 of war than for the arts of peace. The brave Cambrians, prizing 
 liberty more than aught else, and loving their native land with 
 passionate devotion, had for centuries virtually maintained their 
 independence. Nominally subdued they certainly had been on 
 more than one occasion. But they never seriously made peace 
 with a foreigner so long as he occupied their territory ; chieftain 
 and husbandman were trained alike to arms ; their traditions, 
 their poetry, and their music inspired a martial ardour; and 
 they never ceased to war on the strangers forcibly intruded 
 within their bounds, and to harry the alien population set as a 
 garrison in the border territories. For strongholds they had 
 their wild woods ; for a line of defence, their marshes ; and for a 
 city of refuge and tower of strength, their frowning mountains. 
 Unfortunately, however, these sons of liberty were fatally weak 
 in certain points. A number of princes or territorial chiefs, 
 ruling the land, were continually engaged in sanguinary feuds. 
 There was no common rallying ground for patriotic effort. 
 Cohesion, in a word, was wanting in the body politic. All through 
 the eleventh century, Cambria, north and south, was a scene of 
 commotion and bloodshed, in which it is curious to note how 
 often troops of auxiliaries, "stalworth men of Irish birth," pass- 
 ing over from the shores of Erin, bore a conspicuous part. In 
 the year 1031, two of the southern princes, making war on a
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 83 
 
 fellow magnate, "hired unto them a king of Ireland, who 
 brought with him a great army of Irish Scots," and proved so 
 valuable an ally that, after a cruel fight, the princes succeeded 
 in their ambitious design, and were in a position to send back 
 the king and his mercenary host " bountifully rewarded." 
 Some ten years later, we read that Conan, prince of North 
 Wales, whose mother was an Irishwoman, and who was 
 " driven to flee into Ireland for safety of his life," took refuge 
 with Auloedd, King of Dublin, Man, and the Isles, and married 
 that ruler's daughter, Ranhult, widow of the King of Ulster. 
 Returning, with his father-in-law "and great power out of 
 Ireland, to recover his country," Conan landed in Wales. 
 Success did not attend the efforts of the foreign auxiliaries in 
 this campaign. Great slaughter was made of the Irishmen, 
 and king and prince were driven, " with the rest of their forces, 
 to their ships, and so to Ireland." Again, in 1049, a piratical 
 horde passed over in thirty-six ships, and, joining forces with 
 one of the petty sovereigns of South Wales, crossed the Wye, 
 making fearful havoc and leaving nothing behind them but 
 blood and ashes. From this foray " the Irish returned home 
 merrily laden with spoil." l 
 
 Undoubtedly, the most illustrious of the Cambrians in those 
 days was Rhys ap Tudor Mawr, paramount prince of South 
 Wales. 2 Returning from a temporary exile in Armorica, about 
 
 1 Hanmer, Chronicles of Ireland. That these Irish forces were not 
 always the gallon-glasses and stout kernes of the native kings, is evident 
 from the mention occasionally made of well-appointed ships of war, and 
 merchants who furnished transports. Such aid as this could only have 
 been supplied by the Ostmen colonies on the seaboard at Dublin, Wex- 
 ford, \Vaterford, etc. The inhabitants of these cities had become Christians, 
 and were much engaged in commerce. They were ruled by kings or chiefs, 
 who intermarried with the native families of rank, and maintained alliances 
 with the provincial kings, to whom, in fact, they were subordinate. 
 
 - This is the simplest way of spelling the name of Rhys, son of Tudor 
 the Great. But there are many varieties to choose from, such as Rheese 
 ap Thycler, Rees ap Twyde, Rhys ap Theodor. The Welsh nomenclature 
 may properly be called ancestral, for an illustrious patronymic will include 
 the names of several forefathers. Here, for example, is a name to enchant 
 a long-winded genealogist Camdog ab Gniffydd ab RJiydderch abjesten 
 ab Owen ah Ucnvel Dda ! I have not a lady's name to match this. 
 Gwladys ferch Llywarck ab Tra/h?rn sounds "childlike and bland" after 
 Prince Caradog's designation. In the sense of an orthographic puzzle, 
 some of our Gaelic names excel the Cymric ; but they do not contain in 
 brief so much family history.
 
 84 THOSE GERALD1NES 
 
 1077, he laid claim to the throne of his ancestors, and was 
 unanimously elected by the people. At the very moment, 
 however, when his authority seemed to be firmly established, 
 there appeared on the scene a stronger than he, challenging 
 his supremacy. William of Normandy, having completely 
 subdued the Anglo-Saxons and assumed the title of King of 
 England, now had leisure to occupy himself with the land of 
 the Britons ancient Cambria. He summoned the hardy race 
 inhabiting that territory to pay him tribute and do their 
 homage as vassals. On their refusal to comply with his 
 demand, the Conqueror invaded Wales, at the head of a large 
 army, and overawed, as he flattered himself, the primitive in- 
 habitants by an imposing display of kingly power and military 
 pomp. As he traversed the country, he razed castles on the 
 route, bestowed rich tracts on followers who had earned to his 
 satisfaction a share of plundered property, obliged Rhys ap 
 Tudor and the subordinate chiefs to take an oath of allegiance 
 to him, and essayed to throw a halo over his achievements by 
 proceeding in martial splendour to Menevia and offering gifts 
 at the shrine of St. David, Cambria's titular saint. Possibly it 
 was at this moment, while looking out from the iron-bound 
 headland forming the extreme western point of Wales, that the 
 royal pilgrim conceived the idea of extending his conquests 
 still farther, and subjugating the island which the Romans had 
 not reached. Between him and the vaguely-outlined hills of 
 Erin, there lay but a stretch of billowy channel. Beyond the 
 isle that "lieth aloof in the West Ocean" there was no more 
 firm land, as the mediasval world believed ; only the illimitable 
 waters and the shadowy islands of the blest." Certain it is 
 that, if not at that moment, then in some other inspired hour, 
 William's ambitious plans extended to the neighbouring 
 shores, and he dreamed of " subduing Ireland by his prowess, 
 and that without a battle." Elated with the success of his 
 unopposed march through the refractory territory, the king re- 
 turned to England ; while the sturdy Cambrians, left with only 
 the intruded barons to deal with, relapsed into their normal 
 condition, and before long were settling their domestic 
 quarrels lance in hand. In the last year of the Conqueror's 
 reign, Rhys ap Tudor was attacked by princes of the North, 
 and obliged to take refuge in Ireland; where, however, he 
 "purchased to himself great friends," and obtained such
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 85 
 
 military aid as enabled him, with the assistance of his own 
 people, to make head against his foes and reseat himself on 
 the throne. The peace thus obtained was not of long dura- 
 tion. Two of the subordinate chiefs of South Wales, Eineon 
 ap Collwyn and Jestyn ap Gurgunt, rose against their prince, 
 and in an evil hour took into their service a company of 
 Norman adventurers, under the command of Robert Fitz- 
 Hamon, a kinsman of William the Conqueror, and a wealthy 
 lord of Gloucestershire. Thus supported, the traitor chiefs 
 gave battle to their sovereign in the neighbourhood of Breck- 
 nock ; and Rhys ap Tudor, at the age of ninety years, fell by 
 the sword of his enemies. His two eldest sons perished on 
 the same field ; one slain in the conflict, and the other drowned 
 in his flight. Another son and the prince's only daughter 
 were at the time hostages in England. The youngest child, a 
 mere boy, was, immediately after the battle, sent over to Ireland 
 for safety. With Rhys ap Tudor, says the historian, "sank 
 the sun of South Wales and all its glories." l 
 
 Meanwhile, William the Conqueror was called to his 
 account. His second son succeeded to the throne of Eng- 
 land, and the Cambrians, who had been so completely 
 " reduced to submission," celebrated the accession of the Red 
 King by a general revolt. Uniting with some disaffected 
 English barons, the Welsh princes committed devastations on 
 the eastern borders, storming castles and fortresses, slaying and 
 burning. The king, who had heavy work on his hands in 
 Northumberland, whither he had gone with a strong force to 
 punish the contumelious earl of that district, called out in 
 haste another army, and marched at its head into Wales. " He 
 divided his forces, and his troops made their way through all 
 parts of the country, and met at Snowdon, on All Saints Day. 
 But the Welsh ever fled before him to the mountains and moors, 
 so that no man could get near them ; and the king at length 
 returned homewards, because he could do no more there that 
 winter." Two or three years later, Rufus and his host once 
 more invaded Wales. Guided by some traitor natives, the 
 king's forces penetrated far into the country ; yet without 
 obtaining much advantage. The Welsh kept all the passages 
 through the woods and rivers. After suffering great loss of 
 men and horses, " and many other things," the invader and his 
 1 Yorke, Royal Tribes of Wales.
 
 86 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 army returned to England. Castles were built on the borders, 
 so as to form a line of defence against the unquiet Welshmen, 
 who, if no more were possible, should at least be confined 
 to their own fastnesses. 1 It is interesting to learn that the 
 second of the Norman kings, following in the footsteps of his 
 father, went on a pilgrimage to the venerable shrine at 
 Menevia, and that, on seeing Ireland from St. David's Head, 
 he too fancied he might reach those misty shores. " I will 
 summon hither all the ships of my realm," he said, " and with 
 them make a bridge to attack that country." 2 
 
 Kingcraft in those days had other resources at command 
 for subjugating a free people than those implied in marching 
 an army through the country, and driving the inhabitants to 
 the sanctuary of the wolves and deer. The first monarch of 
 the Norman line had given some of his barons leave to make 
 conquests in Wales, and to hold to their own use, under fealty 
 to the king, such lands as they might wrest from the rightful 
 owners. Rufus not only adopted this plan for plundering 
 and subduing a high-spirited race, but carried it out with 
 characteristic recklessness. Several of the Norman barons, 
 who were already in possession of lordships in the western 
 part of England, were now granted a formal licence to make 
 war upon the Welsh, possess whatever territory they might 
 win, and reduce the inhabitants to their own rule ; while the 
 captains of free companies, who had assisted the monarch in 
 his wars, and to whom a large amount of pay, whether in 
 money or lands, was owing, received, in liquidation of their 
 claims, letters of marque against the Welsh. The barons did 
 homage in anticipation for the territory they intended to 
 seize ; and the captains, even before they set out to take 
 forcible possession of their estates, redistributed the lands, and 
 added to their patronymic the name of the districts given 
 over to their sway. 3 These lords of the marches or borders, 
 having driven the natives of the soil from the most fertile 
 tracts, peopled the lands with their English retainers, built 
 towns for their soldiers, erected castles on sites well selected 
 for residence and defence, kept prisons, held courts of justice, 
 enjoyed royal liberties, and acted to perfection the part of 
 
 1 Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. 
 
 2 Giraldus Cambrensis' Itinerary through Wales. 
 
 3 Thierry's History of the Norman Conquest.
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 87 
 
 irresponsible petty sovereigns. To say nothing of what was done 
 in the northern part of the country, it will suffice to give an 
 example of the success of this system of conquest and colon- 
 isation of South Wales. Hugh de Lacy, the ancestor of him 
 to whom Henry n. gave Meath in fee, took possession of 
 the province of Ewyas. Bernard de Newmarch conquered 
 Brecknock. Robert Fitz-Hamon, the same who assisted the 
 traitor chiefs in their attack on Rhys ap Tudor, invaded and 
 conquered that part of Glamorgan lying nearest to the Norman 
 frontier, appropriated three towns as his own share, divided 
 lordships and manors among the twelve knights who had 
 helped him in the seizure, took up his residence in the castle 
 of Cardiff, and was graced with the title of Earl of Glamorgan. 
 Robert de Montgomery, a son of that kinsman of the Con- 
 queror who, in reward for his signal services at the battle of 
 Hastings, had obtained the earldoms of Arundel and Shrews- 
 bury, did homage for Powys-land, and proceeded to subdue 
 that region ; while about the same time, that is, early in the 
 reign of Rufus, Robert's younger brother, Arnulph, undertook 
 in like fashion to possess himself of the great lordship of 
 Pembroke. 
 
 Earl Arnulph was no less fortunate than the robber-lords, 
 his compeers. He made good his foothold in the south- 
 western province, and was the first to erect in those parts a 
 castle, described as a slender fortress constructed of stakes 
 and turf. When returning to England, he left his new 
 territory under the care of Gerald Fitz-Walter, whom he 
 appointed his lieutenant-general and custodian of the keep. 
 This worthy and discreet man, as his kinsman, Cambrensis, 
 calls the castellan, had no easy time of it in the new fortress. 
 Cadogan ap Blethyn, district sovereign of Cardigan, attacked 
 the castle in 1092, but failed to dislodge the garrison. The 
 palisades and earthworks proved a sufficient protection to the 
 Norman soldiery, who used the long-bow with great skill, and 
 knew how to direct the deadly shot of the cross-bow with 
 unerring precision. In 1094 several princes of North Wales 
 besieged Pembroke Castle, and Gerald had to use his wits as 
 well as his arms in its defence. We hear of a "refined 
 stratagem," employed by him to delude the assailants into 
 the belief that the fortress was amply provisioned, at the very 
 time when only four hogs remained for the support of the
 
 88 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 beleagured Normans. In this instance also, the castellan's 
 resistance was successful as well as gallant. The confederates, 
 believing the citadel impregnable, raised the siege, destroyed 
 the rest of the country with fire and sword, and marched off 
 with a great deal of booty. " In recompense for this, when 
 the princes of North Wales had returned, Gerald issued out 
 of the castle and spoiled all the country ^bout St. David's, and, 
 after he had got sufficient plunder and taken divers prisoners, 
 returned back into the castle." 1 
 
 After these exploits, Gerald remained for some time un- 
 molested by the territorial chiefs. But tranquillity did not 
 therefore reign throughout the land. The redoubtable barons 
 were not more distinguished than the native rulers as zealous 
 pursuers of peace. On provocation slight enough, they were 
 ready to take up arms even against their own lord paramount, 
 the King of England. Affairs in South Wales became com- 
 plicated in a new fashion, soon after the accession of Henry 
 Beauclerk to the throne of England, when Robert de Mont- 
 gomery, Earl of Salop, rose against the king, and was supported 
 in his rebellion by his brother, the Lord of Pembroke. To 
 carry on their resistance with any hope of success, foreign aid 
 was indispensable. Robert betook himself to Magnus, King 
 of Norway, a prince of great power on land and sea, with 
 strong connections in Ireland, and a spirit more than ordinarily 
 daring and ambitious. Arnulph, on the other hand, built his 
 hopes on the friendly assistance of an Irish potentate ; and 
 despatched his castellan, Gerald, to Murtough O'Brien, with a 
 request that he would bestow on the earl the hand of his 
 daughter in marriage, and send an armament to assist him in 
 his enterprise against King Henry of England. Murtough, 
 great-grandson of Brian Borumha, and King of Munster, had 
 lately been acknowledged supreme monarch of Ireland, after 
 protracted and sanguinary contests with members of his own 
 family, with the men of Leinster, the O'Connors of Connaught, 
 and the MacLoughlins of the North. In the course of his 
 warlike career, the chiefs of the Ostmen settlements stood 
 sometimes in hostile array against him, and at other times 
 hastened to his assistance with their well-equipped fleet. A 
 threatened descent of Magnus on the Irish coast he averted, 
 by giving one of his daughters, with a large dowry, in marriage 
 1 Caradoc (Powell's translation).
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 89 
 
 to Sigurd, King of the Hebrides and Isle of Man, the son of 
 the Norwegian sovereign. Thus, experienced in martial enter- 
 prises, and not averse from foreign family alliances, the 
 monarch of Ireland seemed the man, of all others, whose 
 support it would be most desirable for Earl Arnulph to 
 secure. No doubt, one difficulty in carrying on the negotia- 
 tion might have been foreseen. The Dalcassian ruler of 
 Erin held friendly relations with the Norman sovereign of 
 England, who, report said, consulted him on important 
 matters, and deferred to his sound judgment in affairs of 
 State. Nevertheless, Arnulph's envoy departed on his mission ; 
 and the first Geraldine who set foot on this isle of destiny 
 proved so accomplished a diplomatist that King Murtough 
 bestowed his daughter, Lafracoth, on the insurgent earl, and 
 promised to support him with great succours out of Ireland. 1 
 The castellan having returned to Pembroke with this welcome 
 intelligence, Arnulph lost no time in repairing to Ireland for 
 his wife and Irish forces. Rebellion, however, did not prosper 
 on this occasion. Robert of Salop, failing in his application 
 to Magnus, saw that it would be impossible to maintain his 
 position, and sent to Henry, desiring that he might be per- 
 mitted to go into exile. The king gave him leave to do so, 
 and at the same time intimated to Arnulph of Pembroke, that 
 he should either quit the country or yield himself to the 
 mercy of the crown. Deeming it safest to place the sea 
 between himself and his liege lord, the earl fled forthwith into 
 Ireland, where it may be supposed he received an honourable 
 asylum with his wife's relatives, the royal O'Briens. 2 
 
 How the castellan of Pembroke escaped a charge of implica- 
 tion in the revolt of the Montgomerys, I cannot tell. Certain 
 it is, that he got into no trouble on their account. When 
 Arnulph forfeited his lordship, Gerald remained as king's 
 governor in the castle. About this time, " in order to make 
 himself and his dependants more secure," 3 he married Nesta, 
 the daughter of Rhys ap Tudor, who had given her, as a dowry, 
 
 1 Hanmer. 
 
 2 The Four Masters record, under the year 1119, the death of Murtough 
 O'Brien, " King of Ireland, prop of the glory and magnificence of the west 
 of the world"; and add, that he "died after the victory of reign and 
 penance"; that is to say, after a prosperous career, and a devout recep- 
 tion of the sacraments. 
 
 3 Giraldus Cambrensis.
 
 90 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 seven manors in Pembrokeshire and the great lordship of 
 Carew. 1 The king's consent was obtained for this marriage ; 
 and, in consequence of it, Gerald was appointed lieutenant 
 over a part of the province, named chamberlain to the king, 
 and presented with a grant of Molesworth in Berkshire and 
 certain lands in Wales. Besides this large acquisition of 
 property, Gerald obtained the great advantage of having his 
 family securely established in the country ; for the native 
 inhabitants looked with a less hostile regard on the barons who 
 married Welsh heiresses, and, being a loyal and loving people, 
 cherished a genuine affection for the children born of such 
 unions. Furthermore, as his posterity did not fail to boast, 
 the Geraldines thus "acquired an ancestry among the ancient 
 British kings." As a precautionary measure, lest Gerald 
 in his turn should become a too powerful and dangerous 
 feudatory, King Henry planted, about this time, in Pembroke, 
 a colony of Flemings : an industrious and sturdy race, who 
 could be relied on as steady subjects, knowing how to keep 
 themselves aloof from the Normans, inclined to turbulence, 
 and from the Welshmen, prone to revolt. 
 
 During the following years, Gerald employed himself in en- 
 larging and strengthening the fortress committed to his care, 
 and in making the castle, at the same time, a suitable resi- 
 dence for a family of baronial rank. Thus the pile began to 
 assume a different character from that suggested by its first 
 rude and unsubstantial aspect. He was now at peace with 
 his neighbour, Cadogan ap Blethyn, Lord of Cardigan, whose 
 second wife was the daughter of the Norman baron, Pygot de 
 Say. The Welsh prince kept his Court, at Aberteivi, in true 
 Cambrian style holding great feasts, at which poetry and 
 music formed a special attraction to guests invited from far 
 and near. One of those brilliant fetes is particularly noted in 
 history, on account of the calamitous occurrences that followed 
 its celebration. It was held at Christmas, in the year 1108, 
 
 1 The Princess Nesta was the most beautiful woman of the time. While 
 a hostage in England, and under pretence of marriage, she had been 
 betrayed into an illegitimate union with King Henry. The offspring of 
 this connection were Robert Fitzroy, the celebrated Duke of Gloucester, 
 "soldier, statesman, scholar," who was so instrumental in seating his 
 nephew, Henry n., on the throne of England, and Henry Fitzroy, 
 whose sons, Meyler and Robert Fitzhenry, figure among the first Anglo- 
 Norman adventurers who settled in Ireland.
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 91 
 
 and to it were bidden the kings, princes, and lords of the 
 three Cymric provinces, to witness the competition of the 
 most distinguished bards and minstrels, and assist in bestow- 
 ing rewards and honours. Among the rest came Owen, a 
 young lord of Powys, the son of Cadogan's first marriage, and 
 already a renowned warrior. In the course of the entertain- 
 ment, when the wine of the country had circulated freely, the 
 conversation turned on the beauty of the Lady Nesta, the wife 
 of Gerald, governor in Pembroke Castle. Owen's curiosity 
 was excited by the discussion, and the idea seized him of 
 going to the castle and satisfying himself as to the truth of 
 what he had heard in the lady's praise. He had little doubt 
 of obtaining admittance, as there was a degree of relationship 
 subsisting between him and the daughter of Rhys ap Tudor. 
 Under colour of a friendly visit, the young chieftain, with a 
 few of his attendants, presented himself at Pembroke Castle. 
 Having met with a kind reception, and satisfied himself that 
 in what he had heard of the lady's beauty there was no 
 exaggeration, he took his leave. Unfortunately, the frolic 
 did not end here. Owen lost his head, and conceived the 
 mad design of carrying off the object of his admiration. He 
 returned the same night, with fourteen of his wild companions. 
 Secretly entering the castle, they set it on fire, and, in the con- 
 fusion, surrounded the chamber in which were Gerald and his 
 wife. Hearing a noise, the governor was about to rush out to 
 ascertain the cause of the disturbance, but Nesta, suspecting 
 some treachery, prevented him from opening the door ; and, 
 urging him to escape by a secret passage, assisted him to get 
 away. Hardly was this done, when Owen and his companions 
 broke open the door. Having searched every corner for 
 Gerald, they decamped, carrying off his wife and children 
 towards Powys, and leaving his castle in flames. 1 
 
 Immediately the whole country was in commotion. Cadogan 
 in vain remonstrated with his son, and urged him to make 
 some amends for this outrage. Gerald, enraged to the utmost, 
 stormed through the district with his followers, until " Cado- 
 gan's territory lay a deserted, charred, and plundered waste " ; 
 and King Henry, choosing to lay the blame on the old prince, 
 forbade him to hold the lordship of Cardigan any longer. 
 
 1 Condensed from Caradoc, and the Histories of Wales, by Warrington 
 and Williams.
 
 92 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 Owen, after some time, complied with Nesta's entreaty, and 
 sent the children back to Gerald. Later, the lady herself 
 returned to her home ; and the author of all this trouble, 
 finding a ship at Aberteivi bound for Ireland, escaped to that 
 island, with all his accomplices, and sought the protection of 
 Murtough O'Brien. He met with a kind reception ; for the 
 young chieftain had gone to Ireland some time before, while 
 war was raging between the Earls of Arundel and Chester and 
 the Welsh, and had brought very rich presents from his 
 countrymen to the King of Ireland. 
 
 Subsequently, on proving his innocence and paying a sum 
 of money, Cadogan was allowed to resume his lordship, and 
 some degree of tranquillity might have been established, had 
 not Owen returned from Ireland, and, with a company of 
 banditti under his command, commenced to raise a fresh dis- 
 turbance ; and proceeded to such a length as to murder a 
 bishop and all his attendants, on their way to the English 
 Court. The king again affected to throw the responsibility 
 of Owen's outrageous behaviour on Cadogan, and make 
 his accusations an excuse for deposing the Welsh prince, 
 and enriching, with the plundered lands, one of the well- 
 endowed but still rapacious barons of the empire. Sending, 
 therefore, for Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Strigul and Chepstow, 
 who had long desired to possess lands in Wales, Henry gave 
 him full licence to make himself master of Cadogan's territory. 1 
 Determined to do the work in drastic fashion, the earl collected 
 a small army, composed of Brabangon mercenaries and Norman 
 troops, " and even of English, who had been reduced, by the 
 evils of the conquest in their own country, to the condition of 
 adventurers and conquerors of the country of others." In 
 this campaign he " received, from his Flemings and from his 
 English soldiers, the Teutonic surname of Strong-boghe, mean- 
 ing Strong Bowman and by a singular chance, this epithet, 
 unintelligible to the Normans, remained hereditary in the 
 family of the Norman chief." With this force, Gilbert repaired 
 by sea to the western point of Divet, or Pembroke, and " drove 
 the Cambrian population from the coasts towards the east, 
 
 1 Earl Gilbert was the son of Richard, Count Eu (a blood relation of 
 the Conqueror), who, in acknowledgment of his services in the descent on 
 England, received extensive possessions in several counties, and took the 
 title of De Clare from one of his ninety-five lordships in Suffolk.
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 93 
 
 slaughtering all who resisted. The Brabangons were then the 
 best infantry of Europe ; and the almost level surface of the 
 country permitted them to avail themselves with advantage of 
 their strong and heavy armour. They conquered it with rapidity ; 
 shared among themselves the towns, houses, and domains, and 
 built castles to secure themselves from the incursions of the 
 vanquished. The Flemings and Normans, holding the highest 
 rank in_ the conquering army, were the most favoured in the 
 partition ; and their posterity became the new lords and rich 
 landholders of the country. . . . The descendants of the 
 Englishmen enlisted in this expedition, composed the middle 
 class of small proprietors and free farmers : their language 
 became the ordinary language of the conquered territory, and 
 banished from it the Welsh tongue, a circumstance which 
 caused the county of Pembroke to receive the name of Little 
 England beyond Wales. 1 Lesser men than the first Strongbow, 
 emulating his rapacity and daring, undertook to pacify Cardigan, 
 after the fashion that had succeeded so well in quieting Pem- 
 broke. Other colonies of Flemings, an industrious and hardy 
 race, "equally fitted for the plough or the sword, brave and 
 robust, but ever most hostile to the Welsh," 2 were sent to 
 inhabit the country about Haverford West ; and now at length 
 it would seem that the lord marchers in their castles, and the 
 king upon his throne, need apprehend no further trouble from 
 the Welsh element in these parts. 
 
 Not quite so, however. There soon appeared a little cloud 
 upon the blue. About this time the Lady Nesta's brother, 
 Griffith ap Rhys, returned from Ireland, whither, as already 
 mentioned, he had been carried for safety on the death of the 
 prince, his father. He was now twenty-five years of age, high- 
 spirited, valiant, and not without hope of wresting from the 
 enemies of his name and race some portion of his legitimate 
 inheritance. For some time he lived in privacy, visiting his 
 kinsfolk in the southern province, and sojourning with his 
 brother-in-law at Pembroke. When (A.D. 1113) the news of 
 young Griffith's return to his native land reached Henry's ears, 
 the monarch understood full well the significance of the event, 
 and issued orders for his arrest. Forthwith the young man 
 
 1 Thierry's History of the Conquest of England by the Normans, 
 book viii. 
 
 - Cambrensis.
 
 94 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 bade adieu to his relatives, and fled to Griffith ap Conan, prince 
 of North Wales, who received him warmly for his father's sake, 
 and also, no doubt, for the sake of the hospitable land whence 
 this latest fugitive had come. For the ruler of the north was 
 partial to everything Irish ; being in fact a native of the Western 
 Isle, and the son of that Prince Conan who, as already said, 
 sought refuge in Ireland, married the widow of the King of 
 Ulster, and died there in exile. 1 This flight from north to 
 south was hardly calculated to restore King Henry's peace of 
 mind. Griffith ap Rhys must, by some means or another, be 
 put out of the way. Sending for the prince of North Wales, 
 the king cajoled and flattered, as he well knew how to do, and 
 was not ashamed to offer " mountains of gold " for Griffith ap 
 Rhys, or his head. Whether the host meditated treachery, I 
 cannot say. Possibly he may have thought to secure himself, 
 satisfy the king, and consult for the best interests of his guest 
 by keeping the latter within view. The Court was attractive ; 
 and so was the prince's daughter, the Lady Gwenliana, who 
 was given to understand that it would be desirable, for State 
 reasons, to make the place agreeable to the gallant young 
 chieftain. Matters advanced further in this direction than was 
 intended, and the wary prince was much enraged when, one 
 
 1 Griffith, son of Conan, one of the most remarkable of the Welsh 
 princes, came from Ireland, and won his inheritance at the same time that 
 Rhys ap Tudor was reinstated in his own principality. He made terms 
 with the King of England, purged North Wales of all strangers and 
 foreigners, and maintained his position to the very end of an unusually 
 long reign. He was the last who had the title of King of Wales. Arts 
 and arms flourished in the wild and mountainous regions that owned his 
 dominion. He did more for the cultivation of music than any other native 
 prince. To him was due the establishment of colleges on the Irish system, 
 in which musical degrees were conferred, and prizes awarded to the 
 minstrels who obtained distinction in the competitions. These musical 
 festivals were attended by all the most skilful musicians of Wales and 
 Ireland. Yorke, in his Royal Tribes of Wales, following Caradoc, 
 gives Griffith ap Conan the credit of developing to the highest degree the 
 musical genius of his nation, and leaves no doubt as to the source of 
 improvement. The prince, says this authority, brought from Ireland, 
 "then the land of harps and harmony, our best tunes, better performers, 
 and a better order of instruments." A monk of Wales, who wrote the life 
 of Griffith ap Conan, speaking of his decease in 1137, after a reign of fifty- 
 seven years, says that the Welsh, the Irish, and the men of Denmark 
 lamented him as the Jews mourned for Joshua, the son of Nun. " And 
 let us pray," adds the devout chronicler, " that his soul may enjoy rest in 
 the bosom of God, with the souls of other good and pious kings for ever."
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 95 
 
 day, Griffith ap Rhys and Gwenliana presented themselves 
 before him, and asked his consent to their marriage. His 
 reply was, to imprison his daughter in a high part of the castle, 
 and arouse her suitor to such a sense of his extreme danger, 
 that he fled away to the south with the utmost expedition. 
 After a while, Gwenliana contrived to make her escape and 
 to rejoin the fugitive, who, raising his standard and gathering 
 round him troops of friends and patriotic Welshmen, entered 
 on a guerilla warfare, inflicted a great deal of injury on the 
 Normans, gained some advantages in the field, and vexed the 
 King of England more than ever. But Henry's resources 
 were not yet exhausted. He found an agent fit to be entrusted 
 with a commission to hunt down and murder the arch-rebel, 
 the representative of the great kings of South Wales. This 
 was the scapegrace, Owen ap Cadogan, who had received the 
 king's pardon and his father's estate some time before. 
 " Owen," said the king, " I have found thee true and faithful 
 unto me, therefore I desire thee to take or kill that murtherer, 
 Gruftyth ap Rees, that doth so trouble my loving subjects." l 
 With Owen, Henry associated another unworthy chieftain, 
 Llywarch ap Trahaern, and, to support them, he promised to 
 send his son, young Robert Fitzroy, with an army to Wales. 
 Proud that the king should place such confidence in him, 
 Owen boldly undertook the commission. Entering Wales 
 with his confederates, he marched towards the woods of 
 Stratywy, where he supposed Griffith ap Rhys had hid himself, 
 posted detachments round the forest, and swore that he would 
 not suffer man, woman, or child of the district to escape out 
 of his hands. "The terrified people fled to the caves, hid in 
 the woods, and sought r'efuge even in the castles belonging to 
 the Normans. Owen killed a number in the forest, dispersed 
 the rest, carried off the cattle, and returned with the plunder 
 towards the main body." At that moment, Gerald, governor 
 of Pembroke, " with a great power of Flemings," was on his 
 way to join the king's son. The people came to him, to 
 complain of Owen and implore his assistance. The detested 
 name of Owen aroused the desire of revenge, and Gerald 
 entered the forest in pursuit of the depredator, who, though 
 warned by his followers of the danger, refused to fly, thinking 
 
 1 Itinerary throtigh Wales, chap. iii. Note in Bohn's edition of 
 Cambrensis.
 
 96 THOSE GERALDINES 
 
 that his pursuers, being, like himself, engaged in the king's 
 service, could not possibly intend him harm. A volley of 
 arrows, discharged by Gerald and his forces, soon undeceived 
 him. Turning with great courage to face a body of assailants 
 outnumbering his troops in the proportion of seven to one, he 
 fell at the first onset, pierced to the heart with an arrow. 1 
 
 Gerald's good fortune did not desert him even now. This 
 exploit in the forest of Stratywy, this slaying of a royal vassal 
 bearing the king's commission, does not appear to have been 
 set down against him. On the contrary, history briefly records 
 that Gerald Fitz- Walter, having slain Owen, son of Cadogan ap 
 Blethyn, district sovereign of Cardigan (A.D. 1114, 1115), was 
 made president of the whole county of Pembroke. In the 
 latter part of his life, Gerald is not mentioned in connection 
 with public affairs. It would seem that he took up his resi- 
 dence on his wife's property, assumed baronial state, and acted 
 the part of Lord of Carew : building a great castle on the site 
 of the rude fortress which the Welsh had erected at an earlier 
 period, and advantageously establishing his family in the south- 
 western part of Wales. His death is said to have taken place 
 in 1135; and the Lady Nesta, according to some authorities, 
 remarried soon after, with Stephen de Marisco, king's constable 
 of Aberteivi. This we can hardly be expected to believe, 
 considering that her union with Gerald took place between 
 thirty and forty years earlier. Other authorities assert that 
 Stephen was her first husband ; but neither does this tally with 
 certain data that remain unquestioned. Fortunately, we are 
 not required to sift, in this place, the facts of Nesta's history, 
 which indeed is likely to remain for some time longer in an 
 unsatisfactory condition. Certain it is, however, that Robert 
 Fitzstephen, the first Anglo-Norman adventurer who landed in 
 Ireland, and Maurice Fitzgerald, the second of those foreign 
 knights who obtained an important grant of land from Dermod 
 MacMurrough, were her sons ; and that, without counting the 
 children of Maurice, a numerous tribe of her descendants in 
 the second generation the Fitzhenry's, the de Barrys, the de 
 Cogans, the Fitzgeralds de Carew came over with the in- 
 vaders, and firmly rooted themselves in the rich soil of Erin. 
 
 In the year assigned as that of Gerald Fitz- Walter's death, 
 King Henry the First of England ceased for evermore to 
 1 Warrington and other writers.
 
 THOSE GERALDINES 97 
 
 trouble the land of Cambria. Twice he had invaded Wales at 
 the head of an army ; overrunning the country, building 
 castles, making treaties, and " reducing the inhabitants to 
 submission," but making withal very little impression on the 
 Welsh ; so little, indeed, that he was on the point of leaving 
 Normandy to repress an incursion of those irreconcilables, 1 
 when the hand of death arrested him. There is little doubt 
 that he, the third monarch of the Norman line, had entertained, 
 like his predecessors, serious thoughts of adding the realm of 
 Ireland to his dominions ; though whether he dreamed of 
 effecting an entrance by means of a pontoon bridge, or fancied 
 (master in State intrigue that he was) that he might attach the 
 four provinces to his crown without a military conquest, we are 
 not in a position to say. 
 
 Soon after the death of King Henry, the " arch-rebel " 
 Griffith ap Rhys, who had resisted the king's power with such 
 determination, and succeeded in retaining some land in the 
 end, made another attempt to free his country, and obtained a 
 great victory over the Normans. But in the year 1137, this 
 prince, " the light, honour, and staie of South Wales," passed 
 away : only by a few months preceding the greatest man of 
 North Wales, his father-in-law, Griffith ap Conan, whose death 
 has been already referred to. 
 
 While the country was in wild commotion after the death of 
 
 1 As a matter of course, the Welsh (like the Irish, the natives of India, 
 and other races found hard to subdue in later times) were invariably 
 decried by their oppressors as a barbarous race. Henry n. , who, in his turn 
 also, had much experience of the difficulty of crushing the spirit of this people, 
 in reply to the inquiries of Emmanuel, Emperor of Constantinople, concern- 
 ing the situation, peculiarities, etc., of the British Island, mentioned that in a 
 certain part of the island there was a people called Welsh, so bold and 
 ferocious that, when unarmed, they did not fear to encounter an armed 
 force ; being ready to shed their blood in defence of their country, and to 
 sacrifice their lives for renown ; which is the more surprising, as the beasts 
 of the field over the whole face of the island become gentle, but those desperate 
 men could not be tamed. Cambrensis' Description of Wales, The French 
 historian of the Norman Conquest, alluding to the savage treatment the 
 Welsh received from the Anglo-Normans, and the manner in which they 
 were traduced before the world as ferocious barbarians, observes that 
 " nevertheless the Welsh nation was perhaps in that age, of all others in 
 Europe, that which least merited the designation of barbarians " ; and goes 
 on to speak of their music and song, their family reunions, the conversa- 
 tion of their women, their kindly welcome to all strangers, even Anglo- 
 Normans, who came simply as travellers and unarmed, etc. 
 7
 
 98 THOSE GERALDINRS 
 
 Henry, the foreign settlers found themselves in a very precarious 
 position ; and the native chroniclers record that Stephen, 
 governor of Aberteivi, called to him the sons of Gerald and all 
 the strength of the Normans against the Welsh. After that 
 date, history maintains silence in regard to those Geraldines, 
 until the year 1168, when they emerge from their temporary 
 obscurity, advance bravely to the front, and prepare to enter on 
 a new career of fighting, acquisition, and adventure. The 
 opportunity for making this fresh start was presented to them 
 on the arrival, in Pembrokeshire, of Dermod MacMurrough, the 
 fugitive king of Leinster.
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 I. 
 
 "O Siena, O Siena, guarda quale e quanta 
 Grazia in tua Donna infusa ha '1 Signer pio, 
 Che il mondo e '1 ciel di Lei giubila e canta." 
 
 WE hear much of the force of circumstances in forming char- 
 acter, of the fortuitous events that mark the turning-points in 
 life, of the power of those " skyey influences " which cast 
 breadths of shadow or gleams of sunshine on our way. It 
 would often be nearer the truth to say, that the turning-points 
 are just these passages at which the hitherto divergent path of 
 another runs in upon our own ; that the supreme force in 
 moulding character is the solvent action or cohesive power of 
 some higher intelligence brought into contact with ours ; that 
 the influences, so strong, yet so intangible, which obscure the 
 track beneath our feet, or illuminate the far horizon, are but the 
 sympathetic agency of a human soul, radiating light or spread- 
 ing gloom abroad. 
 
 Nothing is more mysterious, nor yet more evident, than the 
 power, especially for good, of purely personal influence in all 
 the walks of life, and all the history of the heart and mind and 
 soul. In the more dangerous and tempestuous passes we do 
 not always, amidst the uproar and peril, see the hand that 
 leads us over the sheer abyss, nor recognise the presence that 
 nerves our footsteps through the storm. But the happier hours, 
 which memory takes in charge, are no more than the scene 
 whereon the messengers of God appear in human guise, the 
 heralds raise the voice of hope, the watchmen meet us with 
 their lamps of light. 
 
 And most of all is this the case in the intellectual and the 
 
 99
 
 ioo A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 spiritual life. We walk abroad with opinions hanging loosely 
 about us, with principles awry, and perhaps the motive power 
 wholly awanting ; until some new association evolves order out 
 of chaos, and supplies the force which, like a new faculty, 
 regulates, intensifies, and utilises all. Or again, weighed down 
 by our burdens, torn in the conflict of irreconcilable affections, 
 wearied in the contest with doubts and apprehensions, we sit 
 down by the roadside to struggle and to hope no more. 
 Presently, upon our path, appears some wayfarer who has got 
 for us the charm to heal, the power to fortify, the word that 
 makes the slumbering spirit wake again. Then the strong 
 arm lightens our load, the dauntless heart dispels the phantom 
 fears, the clearer intellect bids us be refreshed with draughts 
 from fountains full and free. 
 
 All the words of wisdom poured into our ear, all the truths 
 we fancy we believe, are no more than the phrases children 
 have by rote, unless we see wisdom in action ruling a human 
 life, and note the beauty and the strength of virtue quickened 
 in the living soul. Faith languishes without evidence of its 
 potency in daily deeds ; confidence grows faint unless upheld 
 by example ; even our belief in the compassion of Almighty 
 God remains too vague to afford us comfort, until some fellow- 
 creature commissioned to bind up the broken heart or free 
 the imprisoned soul makes us understand how infinite must 
 be the goodness of the Lord, since the mere reflection of His 
 charity can turn the servants of His household into angels of 
 light and ministers of love. 
 
 Sometimes these heaven-sent people stay with us for an 
 hour or a day ; sometimes they are our companions for many a 
 stage ; sometimes they leave us only at the call of death, and 
 then to do us greater service linking, by a more sensible 
 connection, the life of to-day with the eternity of to-morrow; 
 taking the bitterness from death, as they had once taken the 
 trouble from existence. 
 
 And as it is in the experience of each individual, so it is in 
 the wider range of social life. The sinful cities are saved over 
 and over again by a handful of good men. Even in societies 
 the most destitute of high ideals, there may be found some few 
 of a less inferior order in whom the rest believe, and whose 
 influence leavens the whole mass. The interest, as well as the 
 power, always centres in the leaders, the exemplars, the teachers
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 101 
 
 of mankind. Has it not been said, and with truth, that history 
 is nothing more than a series of biographies ? Hero-worship 
 may not be a reasonable service ; but surely the craving it 
 expresses for something better than we see upon the lower 
 level, the belief it embodies in the possibility of human nature 
 reaching somewhat nearer to the divine, is, at anyrate, a noble 
 instinct. 
 
 Literature itself, in its highest efforts, if it does not summon 
 into life again the characters that peopled the world's past, 
 calls upon the scene creatures of the imagination, who serve us 
 in good stead. Our heroes of romance become as much our 
 kindred and possession as if they had once been clothed in 
 the flesh, and had trod the earth we walk upon. Do we not 
 fight over them, and weep over them, because of that congenial 
 human interest with which genius invests them ? 
 
 How comes it then that we know so little, and seem hardly 
 to care to know, the history of those elect and noble souls, 
 whose natural endowments were spiritualised and perfected to 
 such a degree as to reach the very highest ideal of power, 
 beauty, grace; whose resemblance to our Lord in His 
 humanity is at once so awe-inspiring and so sweetly attractive ; 
 whose influence on the people about them was hardly less mir- 
 aculous than any of their other gifts ; and who have left after 
 them a trail of light that beautifies the Church herself? How 
 is it that those servants of God, pre-eminently great, do not 
 hold that place in the affections and memory of the Christian 
 people which the heroes of profane history and the creations 
 of poetic fancy have retained? How is it that the lives 
 of saints are relegated to obscure corners, and are not found 
 on our library table with our favourite histories, our choice 
 biographies, the literature in which we delight, and from which 
 we are proud to take our tone, our culture, our opinions ? 
 
 One reason there is which accounts in some degree for this 
 neglect. English literature has up to the present time done 
 very little service in this field of work. The lives of saints 
 usually met with are mere dry records a string of facts, if not 
 a " bundle of paradoxes," to the general reader ; or they are 
 translations from foreign languages, sometimes unintelligible, . 
 sometimes ridiculously bad. The order, the taste, the critical 
 judgment required for writing the memoir of a soldier, a 
 statesman, or an engineer ; the skill expended, as a matter of
 
 102 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 course, on the biography of anyone eminent in science or 
 letters, appear to be disregarded when there is question of 
 compiling the life of a saint. Edifying reading, no doubt, we 
 have in these books. Sometimes we get a fair picture of the 
 subject of the biography taken from one particular point of 
 view, or under the influence of a peculiar light. But seldom 
 indeed is the life itself reproduced, with all its human interests 
 as well as its supernatural adjuncts. The reader does not 
 breathe the atmosphere in which those saintly fellow-creatures 
 lived ; does not see them in their daily life, meet the people 
 they conversed with, hear what the townsfolk said of them. 
 They are not individualised; and therefore are far less 
 real and far less dear to us than the hero of a novel or a 
 character on the stage. The life of a saint can no more be 
 written by an uneducated pen, or by one careless of detail, 
 than a portrait can be painted by an untrained, reckless 
 hand. In fact, the saints we know best and love most have 
 come down to us portrayed by the hand of genius itself that 
 is, by their own hand ; or they had some loving, worshipful 
 Boswell about them to gossip of their daily life, chronicle the 
 little incidents that supply the essential, realistic cast, and 
 preserve those precious personal traits which make the portrait 
 lifelike. Thus we learn first to know and love the man, and 
 then we understand the saint. 
 
 In illustration of these remarks, St. Augustine and St. Theresa 
 occur to mind as examples of our indebtedness to auto- 
 biographical candour and a free and graphic pen for clear and 
 satisfying portraiture ; while the history of St. Francis de Sales 
 and of St. Louis of France may be cited as instances of what 
 an affectionate heart, dwelling on minor details, can accom- 
 plish in the way of successful delineation. 
 
 St. Augustine, in a few broad flowing lines, sketches not 
 only the man of scholarly attainments, refined tastes, and 
 loving expansive nature, the centre of the group of friends 
 who studied in Carthage, taught in Milan, and spent that 
 never-to-be-forgotten vintage vacation in the country house of 
 Verecundus, but also gives us portraits, intensely lifelike, of 
 " that holy man, Ambrose," whom he began to love as a man 
 that was kind to him, and diligently heard as he preached 
 every Lord's day to the people, " rightly handling the word of 
 God"; of Monica, the incomparable mother in whose praise
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 103 
 
 Ambrose would break forth, and whose conversation reminded 
 her son of the finest strokes of Tully and Hortensius ; of the 
 young count-officer, Evodius ; and of Alipius, who stuck close 
 to him with a most strong bond of friendship. 
 
 No one who reads the life of St. Theresa, as written by 
 herself, can help ever after looking on her as a great friend ; 
 so distinctly does her clear, truth-adoring mind reflect itself 
 in the pages, and so vividly do those inimitable touches of 
 humour and those bright descriptions of scenes and persons 
 bring out the characteristics of her who was at once the mystic 
 writer and the " saint of common sense." 
 
 St Francis de Sales found a Boswell, ever to be held in 
 grateful recollection, in his good friend the Bishop of Belley, 
 who preserved the charming traits of Monseigneur de GeneVe, 
 which furnished a well-known writer with the subject of his 
 essay on " The Gentleman Saint." 
 
 The Sire de Joinville, the kinsman of St. Louis, does not 
 disdain to set down for us the trifling incidents of the great 
 king's daily life. Thanks to the faithful seneschal, we see 
 that holy man, sitting with his back to an oak in the woods at 
 Vincennes in summer-time, surrounded by his officers, hearing 
 the petitions of those who, "nowise hindered by ushers or 
 other folks," come to have justice done them in that sylvan 
 court. Never does the sainted monarch appear a more lov- 
 able character, or a nobler figure, than when we see him in de 
 Joinville's pages, wearing his camlet coat, with " his hair well 
 combed," and his hat, with white peacock's feathers, on his head. 
 
 French literature, we need hardly say, is not obnoxious to 
 the same reproach as ours. The great Catholic nation has 
 given to the world many lives of saints that are at once 
 valuable historical essays, as nearly as possible perfect 
 biographies, and remarkable productions of literary taste and 
 skill. But the publications of a foreign press are not so acces- 
 sible to general readers as to supply to any great extent the 
 need we are deploring. And truly, a pressing need it is, 
 especially at this moment, when we find that the saints have 
 become objects of interest to many outside the Church, and the 
 story of their lives has been undertaken by writers who, though 
 cultivated and candid, lack the first qualification for such a 
 task the Catholic spirit. 
 
 In the present phase of English intellectual life, when
 
 io 4 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 Materialism is spreading a wide waste around, and the discord 
 of Protestantism is overturning the landmarks to which faithful 
 eyes had trusted, it is no wonder that minds of a more spiritual 
 cast should turn to the happier ages of faith, half envious of 
 their leadership and lofty standards ; should seek to kindle at 
 another hearth the enthusiasm without which life perishes, and 
 yield to the fascination great sanctity exerts. Besides this, 
 there is felt to be, even from the strictly literary point of view, 
 a certain attraction in a subject which has for central interest a 
 figure crowned with the saint's aureole. The spiritual nature 
 feels the charm inseparable from such association, and the 
 poetic imagination delights in the play of the supernatural light 
 upon the scenes and forms of the substantial world. 
 
 A glance at the book - lists shows what danger we are in of 
 being beaten on our own ground. Our saints are receiving 
 honours from Churches holding proudly aloof from the one 
 fold, and the republic of letters does homage where the heirs 
 of the kingdom pay but a tardy tribute. In other places, too, 
 and in the most unlooked-for ways, we note signs of this newly- 
 awakened interest. A learned and accomplished dignitary of 
 the Protestant Church not long ago delivered a lecture to a 
 Christian Young Men's Association on the Life of St. Francis of 
 Assisi, and astonished his audience not only by the selection 
 of the subject, but by the candour and feeling with which it 
 was treated. Thousands of readers have lately been surprised 
 to see the way St. Theresa's name is introduced in the preface 
 to one of the most remarkable works of the great novelist of 
 our time. And, doubtless, there are many who have not yet 
 recovered from the amazement that seized them on finding that 
 one of the poets of the day has, in the midst of pages of 
 licentious verse, dedicated a few pure stanzas to the honour of 
 that "sweetest of saints" Catherine of Siena, and added in 
 prose a note of no less remarkable eulogy. 
 
 This gentleman is not the only one who thinks that St. 
 Catherine ought to be better known than she is. He seems to 
 hope that a chronicler will be found to do justice to the 
 "greatness of spirit and genius of heroism," as well as the 
 " strength and breadth of patriotic thought," that characterised 
 her. Others would like to see her among her own people, and 
 hear the words of strange power and irresistible persuasion 
 which this counsellor of pontiffs, this envoy of the fierce
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 105 
 
 republics, this incomparable peacemaker, had ever at com- 
 mand ; while others, again, would desire to have set forth in 
 her life the example of virtues that have much need of being 
 strengthened in these days faith, unmoved by scandal or 
 distress ; hope, that makes " impossible " achievements facts. 
 
 There is but a single consideration to reconcile one to the 
 idea of the imminent danger St. Catherine runs of falling into 
 the hands of a non-Catholic biographer : and it is the reflec- 
 tion that no one ever approached her without leaving her 
 presence both wiser and better. Some grace, no doubt, will 
 attach to the pen that undertakes to write for English readers 
 the history of this great woman and great saint, and to delineate 
 a character in which were combined clearness of intellect, 
 warmth of affection, courage that never quailed ; a character, 
 in one word, uniting sweetness and strength in marvellous and 
 beautiful association. It will need a wide canvas on which to 
 show the scenes of history in which this daughter of the people 
 bore a part, and to paint the portraits of the men and women 
 grouped around her : the Friar Preachers, the Sisters of 
 Penance, the young noblemen who acted as her secretaries, 
 accompanied her on her journeys, and were ready to live like 
 mendicants so that they were not for long separated from her 
 whom they called their mother and mistress. 
 
 Meanwhile, let us see whether we could not, by sketching-in 
 a few lines of background, and outlining the principal figures, 
 get, even from the rough draught, some idea of the intrinsic 
 beauty and significance of this subject. 1 
 
 1 We have, in English, a recent translation of the Life of St. Catherine of 
 Siena, by her confessor, the Blessed Raymond, of Capua (Duffy, 1867), 
 and an old version of another life, very quaint and interesting, re-edited, 
 with a preface, by Father Aylward, O. P. (Philp. 1867). To appreciate, 
 or even properly understand, these works, which come under the head of 
 Memoires pour servir rather than regular biographies, it would be necessary 
 to have acquired a general knowledge of the saint's life, and of the times 
 in which she lived. There is no shorter way of gaining this than by 
 reading, in addition to Blessed Raymond's Legcnda, the Storia di S. 
 Caterina, by the Oratorian Father, Capecelatro, of which the third 
 edition (Naples, 1863) is now before us ; and the Letters di S. Caterina, 
 edited, with copious notes and an interesting critical introduction, by N. 
 Tommaseo (4 vols. Florence, 1860). There is an excellent French 
 translation of the Letters, with useful historical introduction founded on the 
 Storia, by E. Cartier (3 vols. Paris, 1858). But the notes in this are 
 short and few.
 
 106 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 No matter what may be forgotten of the events that marked 
 its troubled course, the fourteenth century will always be 
 remembered as the epoch in which the language and literature 
 of Italy sprang into existence and grew to perfection, and the 
 period in which many of the famous works of the early schools 
 of art were produced. The Vita Nuova of Dante appeared at 
 its very opening, and prepared the way for the Divina Comedia. 
 Petrarch was born early in the first decade; Boccacio came 
 into the world a few years later ; and these were followed by a 
 crowd of poets. Cimabue, who died in 1300, was the precursor 
 of Giotto, Taddeo Gaddi, Simone Memmi, Orcagna, and a 
 long line of illustrious painters. Architects and sculptors, of 
 imperishable fame, continued the stupendous undertakings of 
 the previous century, originated new designs, and helped to 
 make Italy what she has become a shrine of art. 
 
 The free cities of Lombardy and Tuscany had then reached 
 the climax of power and wealth. Popes and emperors sought 
 their alliance; their trade made burgher life in Flanders 
 splendid, and helped to civilise the then half-barbarous British 
 Isles. Yet the arts did not charm peace to tarry in the land ; 
 nor did commerce, with its princely enterprise, nor husbandry, 
 though well understood and practised, secure to the people the 
 happiness which is counted upon as the reward of well-paid 
 industry. The most terrible scourges that afflict humanity 
 desolated the country. Foreign armies and companies of 
 adventurers plundered the cities and laid waste the plains ; 
 famine stalked over the fruitful fields ; and the plague, twice 
 within the hundred years, decimated the horror-stricken popu- 
 lations. The spirit of unrest and discord finished what other 
 visitations left undone. When there were no strangers to war 
 with, the republics fought with one another ; and when there 
 was a truce between the rival cities, the factions contending 
 for the Signoria tore each other in pieces. 
 
 Great tribulations afflicted the Church. The popes, whose 
 presence might have preserved some semblance of peace and 
 order in Italy, were captives not willing to be free in 
 Avignon. The Babylonish Captivity, as the people called that 
 disastrous exile, did not terminate until the century was draw- 
 ing to a close ; and then began a worse calamity, the great 
 schism of the West. During the absence of the Supreme 
 Pontiff from Rome, the clergy became disorganised, and the
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 107 
 
 legates, for the most part rapacious foreigners, oppressed the 
 people that they might live in luxury, and tyrannised not only 
 over the dominions of the Church, but over the free cities 
 which had remained attached to the papal interest. 
 
 In fact, at one time or another within that century, Italy 
 appears to have been a prey to every evil under the sun, 
 except stagnation, slavery, and despair. 
 
 Florence and Siena, the rival republics of Tuscany, could, 
 in consequence of their wealth, their armed forces, and their 
 influence, turn the balance in favour of pope or emperor. 
 Sometimes friendly relations subsisted between the cities ; 
 more frequently they were engaged in jealous contention with 
 one another. Siena espoused the Ghibeline cause, out of 
 opposition to the Guelphic city on the Arno. But at a time 
 when political factions divided each State, and hereditary 
 enmities brought strife into the midst of families, nothing con- 
 tinued long in the same condition ; and we see Florence now 
 zealously supporting Gregory XL, now flaying alive the papal 
 nuncio : Siena one day offering the Signoria to the emperor, 
 and another day treating him with the grossest indignity. The 
 political exiles of one republic used frequently to settle within 
 the dominion of the other, and this interchange of hospitalities 
 served to keep up in each State a very lively interest in the 
 internal affairs of the other. 
 
 Siena's pride had been inordinately increased by the victory 
 of Monte Aperto, gained in the previous century, by the com- 
 bined forces of that republic and of Pisa, over the Tuscan 
 Guelphs headed by the Florentines. In that battle, fought 
 about five miles from Siena, in 1260, a great number of the 
 Guelphs were left dead upon the field ; many prisoners were 
 taken ; and the great car, or carroccio, on which were borne 
 aloft the image of Our Lady and the standard of Florence, and 
 which it was a point of honour to defend to the last extremity, 
 was captured and drawn into the city in triumph. The victors 
 hung the Florentine standard in the Duomo ; placed the 
 crucifix they had themselves carried into the field over one of 
 the altars ; presented the martinella, or bell of the carroctio, 
 to the church of San Giorgio ; and, to express their gratitude 
 to God and to the Blessed Virgin, decreed, by order of the 
 Senate, that thenceforward the words Civitas Virginis should 
 be added to the inscription on their coin. At the same time, a
 
 loS A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 law was re-enacted obliging each citizen who had attained to 
 the age of sixteen years to offer every year, on the vigil of the 
 Assumption, a pound of wax in the cathedral church of Our 
 Lady. 
 
 After that decisive engagement, a great number of the 
 Sienese nobles, who had been exiled in revolutions of an earlier 
 date, returned to their native city. Some, by becoming mer- 
 chants, sought to regain the position in the State of which 
 the jealousy of the popular party had deprived them ; others, 
 too proud to descend to a lower grade, retired to their hillside 
 castles to await the turn in political affairs which should restore 
 them to their former importance; while others, again, were 
 content to remain an isolated class in a separate quarter of the 
 city. For about ten years after that battle, or until 1270, the 
 nobles had a share with the burgher class in the Government. 
 The rulers of the republic, twenty-four in number, were chosen 
 in equal proportion from each class. At that date, however, 
 a change occurred, and the supreme authority was transferred 
 to the hands of thirty-six governors, the majority of whom were 
 not of the aristocratic party. Nine years later a new magis- 
 tracy was formed, excluding the upper classes altogether ; and 
 its members, under the title of the Signori Quindici, governed 
 the city and the commune. Then it was that, through the 
 intervention of the papal legate, Orsini, an order was made 
 prohibiting the use of the words Guelph and Ghibeline. But 
 in spite of that prudential measure, affairs did not long remain 
 undisturbed in the turbulent republic. The Quindici were 
 succeeded by the Nore, who enjoyed an unusually long reign, 
 and maintained their position for seventy years ; that is to say, 
 until 1355. These nine governors were chosen from a class 
 of about ninety families of rich merchants, who formed a sort 
 of burgher aristocracy, and were called the "Order of Nine." 
 Their term of office did not exceed two months ; during which 
 time they occupied the same palace and banqueted at the same 
 table. 
 
 Again, the Order of Nine becoming an object of jealousy to 
 the ranks beneath them, the nobles, who still longed for 
 restoration to power, took advantage of the ill-feeling that 
 existed, and, in the year 1355, excited the populace to revolt. 
 With the tacit consent of the emperor, Charles iv., who was 
 then in Siena, and only too anxious to increase his own power
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 109 
 
 by taking advantage of political commotions, the Nine were 
 driven from the palace of the Signoria, and measures were 
 taken to permanently exclude them from the Government. 
 But the nobles, though they took a sanguinary revenge on 
 their enemies, did not succeed in attaining the object they had 
 most at heart. They did not obtain even a share in the 
 Signoria, which was intrusted to twelve magistrates of a some- 
 what lower class of the citizens than the banished Nine. 
 Among the families of rank who distinguished, or disgraced, 
 themselves in this unhappy contest, were the Tolomei, the 
 Malavolti, the Piccolomini, and the Saracini; among whom, 
 some years later on, St. Catherine, as we shall see, found many 
 friends and disciples. 
 
 By the time, however, that the saint became known to her 
 fellow-citizens by her great gifts and heroic charity, another 
 change had taken place. The Salembeni and the Tolomei, 
 feigning to fight with one another, suddenly united their forces, 
 attacked the palazzo, turned the Signoria out of doors, and 
 attempted to establish a new form of executive, in which the 
 aristocracy should be sufficiently represented. The democratic 
 party resisted ; a battle took place in the streets ; and the 
 nobles, being worsted, shut themselves up in their castles. 
 Meanwhile, the arrival of the emperor appeared for a moment 
 to strengthen their position. But all was in vain. The 
 popolani, neither daunted by the martial ardour of the nobles, 
 nor overawed by the presence of the emperor, rose to arms ; 
 threw up barricades on all sides; broke into the emperor's 
 palace, disarmed and dispersed his guards, and left him for 
 several hours alone on the Piazza. In vain he addressed him- 
 self to the armed citizens, who barred the way on every side ; 
 not until he began to suffer from hunger did they let him seek 
 a shelter from the Salembeni, and finally leave the city. The 
 result of this contest was the formation of a new Signoria, 
 composed of fifteen members : eight taken from a lower class 
 than ever before had a share in the government, four from 
 those who had been represented in the magistracy of twelve, 
 and three from the Order of Nine. The new governors were 
 popularly called the reformers ; their official title being the 
 Signori Defensori defenders of the city and commune of 
 Siena. At their head was the Capitano del Popolo. P'or a 
 time the nobles, under the leadership of the Salembeni, held
 
 no A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 the country round Siena; but finally, in 1369, the Florentines 
 having been chosen arbiters between the contending parties, a 
 not very settled peace was obtained. 
 
 The city of Siena, which strikes the traveller as so complete 
 a realisation of his idea of the capital of a splendid, warlike, 
 and formidable republic, is, though shrunken in its propor- 
 tions, substantially the same Civitas Virginis, which, as her 
 latest poet sings, " saw St. Catherine bodily." True, streets, 
 once lined with the warehouses of rich merchants and the 
 shops of substantial traders, no longer run with abrupt descent 
 from the tower-crowned hills to the deep ravine. Gardens and 
 patches of wild verdure occupy the untenanted space, and 
 beautify the site of former habitations. Of the thirty - nine 
 gates of the turret - flanked walls, only eight remain. The 
 population of the present city is not one quarter of the number 
 of armed men the fierce republic once sent through these 
 gates into the Tuscan plains. The city, as if concentrating its 
 remaining strength upon the vantage ground, crowns the 
 cluster of hills standing apart from neighbouring heights of 
 undulating outline, and is regarded with only a distant recog- 
 nition by mountain ranges on the horizon. The same 
 magnificent Duomo, with its white and black-striped campanile, 
 rises on the summit of the steepest hill. San Domenico's 
 plain brick structure keeps its place on a corresponding height. 
 The Palazzo Publico maintains as proud an air as if the Signoria 
 still sat in council within its pictured walls ; and the Piazza 
 looks as if it might become once more the scene of popular 
 tumult and sanguinary onslaught Prison -like mansions of 
 the extinct nobility, with their barred windows, gloomy arch- 
 ways, and towers for observation and defence, frown on the 
 precipitous streets, and preserve intact the Middle-Age char- 
 acter of a city which even its own inhabitants would not leave 
 in peace. Above all rises to a stupendous height the tower 
 Delia Mangia, with its machicolated summit; and its bell 
 hung in the air, ready for any service : to regulate the daily 
 life of the citizens, as it did five hundred years ago, when 
 St Catherine durst not go forth in the morning without the 
 city bell's permission ; ready, if need be, to ring a summons 
 through the hills, or toll some doleful tidings over the territory 
 of the Sienese. 
 
 The city presents no aspect of unsightly ruin, of undignified
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT in 
 
 decay. In silent, solemn mood she broods over splendid 
 memories. Perhaps she sleeps ; perhaps she dreams that fresh 
 blood may flow through the empty veins again ; that the Siena, 
 which held high her head among the proudest of the republics, 
 and set up her academies before the rest had schools; and 
 had painters, and great ones too, before Cimabue was born, 
 may yet awake to vigorous, abounding life, and add new glory 
 to her ancient grandeur. 
 
 The Sienese of to-day tread the streets with an independent 
 step, worthy of the sons of freedom. Their speech is in the 
 same sweet and harmonious accents in which Catherine con- 
 versed and Bernardino preached. In the very language of 
 Dante, they tell you how the immortal poet alludes to their 
 city, and recalls their story ; how he speaks of the victory of 
 Monte Aperto ; how the Piazza del Campo is introduced ; 
 how the young prodigals of the city, who shod their horses with 
 silver, and roasted their pheasants at fires made of fragrant 
 spices, have found their place in the Inferno : how the Fonte 
 Branda, with its copious supply of limpid water, has been 
 immortalised. If Dante had not died, they say, some fifty 
 years too soon, the Virgin of Fonte Branda St. Catherine 
 herself would be met in some page or another of the divine 
 cantos. 
 
 Yes ; it would be so, we may be very sure. The Saint of 
 Siena would be recognised in the Inferno, mourning over souls 
 she could not save with all her quenchless zeal ; or met in the 
 Purgatorio, gliding from circle to circle doing penance for poor 
 sinners who had been converted by her prayers ; or seen in the 
 Paradiso, in an ecstasy of measureless thanksgiving, and inter- 
 cession that asks but to receive. 
 
 One must make a rapid descent from the inhabited part of 
 the city to reach the famous fountain that lends its name to the 
 once well-peopled district in which it is situated, and gives the 
 title of the " Vergine di Fonte Branda/' to the saint who was 
 born not far from its tank-like reservoir. The fountain is in 
 the lowest part of the Valle Piatta, a sort of ravine separating 
 the cathedral-crowned height from the hill on which the church 
 of San Domenico stands. A little way higher up, on the 
 cathedral side, is the block of buildings, now comprising chapel 
 and oratories, which once included the residence, factory, and 
 shop of St. Catherine's father, Jacopo Benincasa, whose work-
 
 ii2 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 men washed their wools in Fonte Branda, and dyed them for 
 the manufacturers, who at that time drove a flourishing trade 
 in Siena. Jacopo was the descendant of a French gentleman 
 named Tiezzo, or Teuccio, who came to Siena about the year 
 1282; purchased from the republic a plot of ground outside 
 the walls, at Monticiano ; built some houses there, and called 
 the place Borgo. Tiezzo had two sons : Benincasa, from whom 
 the saint was descended, and Bencivine, the founder, as it is 
 asserted, of the Borghese family. The arms of the Benincasa 
 and the Borghese are the same ; and the latter, the city 
 registries show, were also in the same trade, and had a dyeing 
 establishment close to Jacopo's house in Fonte Branda. At 
 the time of St. Catherine's canonisation, the Roman Borghese 
 were anxious that their connection with the family of a dyer 
 should not be brought forward ; and they had influence enough, 
 it is said, to prevent this being done. It is not easy to under- 
 stand the pride that would disown relationship with the race 
 from which St. Catherine sprang. One of her biographers, 
 commenting on the vanity of the patrician family, character- 
 istically remarks, that Jacopo Benincasa had a share in the 
 magistracy of the republic, which was a much greater thing than 
 being a prince in the Court of Rome ! Though Jacopo's 
 business ranked him with the popolani, his family were con- 
 nected with several of the distinguished people in the city, 
 such as the Delia Fonte, and the Vannini, the Colombini, and 
 the Telliucci. 
 
 Jacopo Benincasa married Lapa, the daughter of Puccio 
 Piagenti, a poet of some note in Siena in those days. They 
 had a very numerous family, of whom eight, at the least, grew 
 up to manhood and womanhood. Catherine was born on the 
 25th March 1347 ; the year in which Rienzi proclaimed the 
 republic in Rome In the following year the great plague, 
 described with such terrible power by Boccaccio, broke out, and 
 carried off, if the Sienese accounts are to be credited, eighty 
 thousand of the citizens. Catherine was particularly cherished 
 by her mother, and, as she grew in years, became so remarkable 
 for her sweet disposition and graceful ways, that the numerous 
 household regarded her with special affection, and the kinsfolk 
 and neighbours were always wanting to have her with them. 
 They called her Eufrosina, the joyous one. The child's early 
 piety astonished everyone ; and her wise and simple talk
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 113 
 
 attracted people as much as her playful manner charmed 
 them. 
 
 One day her mother sent her, with her little brother, Stefano, 
 to the house of their married sister, Bonaventura, who lived 
 near one of the gates of the city. When the children were 
 returning, by the street descending from the hill on which the 
 Duomo stands, to the Fonte Branda quarter, Catherine, raising 
 her eyes to heaven, saw, right over the opposite hill and above 
 the gable end of the church of San Domenico, a vision of our 
 Lord in great majesty, accompanied by St. Peter, St. Paul, and 
 St. John the Evangelist. The Saviour looked on her with 
 benign tenderness, and, stretching out His hand, made the sign 
 of the cross and blessed her. Stefano, who had not seen the 
 vision, continued his way ; but by and by, perceiving that his 
 sister tarried behind and took no notice when he called loudly 
 to her, he returned and, taking her by the hand, sought to 
 arouse her from the trance she appeared to have fallen into. 
 At last she lowered her eyes. When she looked up again, 
 Christ and the saints had disappeared, and, weeping, she 
 reproached herself for having withdrawn her gaze from that 
 resplendent vision. 
 
 From that time forth her mind dwelt on nothing but heavenly 
 things. She could not imagine any delight except in doing as 
 she heard the saints had done. Fancying it would be possible 
 for her to live like the hermits of the desert, she one day 
 wandered outside the city gates ; and when the houses became 
 fewer, and she saw the country lying open before her, she 
 thought the wilderness must surely be nigh at hand. She was 
 brought back to her home ; and then it came into her mind 
 that if she could go and live with the Dominican fathers in 
 their convent up there on the hill, and teach people to be good 
 and to love God, it would be the greatest happiness that could 
 possibly be imagined. When, however, it was explained to 
 her that she might neither lead the life of a solitary in the 
 desert, nor dwell with the frati in San Domenico, she gave up 
 the childish fancy, and was content to assemble the children of 
 her acquaintance in some retired place, sing with them the 
 hymns she had learned, talk of the love of God, of the delight 
 of a penitential life, and of what the saints had gone through 
 for the salvation of souls. 
 
 The Benincasa family afforded a good example of a well-
 
 ii 4 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 regulated, comfortable middle-class household in republican 
 times. Trade was in a flourishing state ; and in Jacopo's 
 house there were abundant means for the troop of children, 
 and even a corner to spare for a young orphan relative, 
 Thomas della Fonte, who grew up with the rest, until he too 
 having turned a longing eye to that convent on the height 
 the time came when he could join the frati, labour for the 
 conversion of souls, and help, on the elevated path of sanctity, 
 Catherine Benincasa herself. Jacopo was emphatically a God- 
 fearing man. He was never angry ; he would not suffer any- 
 one to be harshly spoken of; even those who did him a wrong 
 were safe from injurious words. He had a particular talent for 
 maintaining peace between neighbours, and for reconciling 
 enemies. As might be expected, the children reaped the 
 benefit of the father's good example and Christian conversation. 
 One of his daughters, after her marriage, having lost her spirits 
 and begun to waste away, the cause could not be surmised, 
 until she acknowledged to her husband that the loose con- 
 versation of his young companions so different from what 
 she had been accustomed to hear in her father's house was 
 so distressing to her that she thought she could not have to 
 listen to it much longer and live. Catherine certainly inherited 
 her father's kindly disposition, and his gift of peacemaking. 
 
 What qualities the saint inherited from her mother cannot 
 be so easily traced ; for Lapa, though a poet's daughter, does 
 not appear to have been remarkable for any but good house- 
 wifely qualities, common sense, and a prudent regard for the 
 satisfactory settlement in life of her very large family of 
 children. Possibly, though one generation was passed over in 
 the transmission, Catherine may have owed to her grandfather 
 some of that charm which made her conversation so fascinating. 
 In one respect, at anyrate, they were like - minded, and that 
 was in affection for the Dominicans. In recompense for 
 Piagenti's devotion to the Order, Frate Erves, master of the 
 Friar Preachers in Florence, had, in a document to which his 
 seal was appended, granted, in 1321, to the poet, his wife Cena, 
 and their children, participation in this life and in the next in 
 the merit of all the masses, prayers, and good works of the 
 Order throughout the world. At his death, Piagenti left his 
 property, or a good part of it, to the Dominicans. 
 
 The Friar Preachers during those stormy days kept alive in
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 115 
 
 Siena, as well as all through Italy, a strong spirit of devotion to 
 the Holy See, and a longing desire that the Father of the 
 Faithful should return from Avignon and reign once more in 
 Rome. Their convents were everywhere the centre of this 
 idea; and their influence greatly tended to keep the people 
 steady in the faith, at' a crisis made exceedingly dangerous by 
 the disorders, the terrors, and the scandals of the time. They 
 were also the great peacemakers of the age. The frati lived 
 much among the people. Catherine was accustomed to see 
 them in her father's house, and early learned so to delight 
 in their conversation and so to love the habit of the Order, 
 that, as she saw them pass the door on the way to and from 
 the convent, she would be ready to fall at their feet and 
 worship the ground they walked on. She was more devout to 
 St. Dominick than to any other of the saints. One night she 
 had, in her sleep, a vision of the founders of the religious 
 Orders, who appeared to urge her to choose one in which to 
 devote herself to a life of perfection. Among them she 
 recognised St. Dominick, bidding her be of good courage, and 
 presenting to her the habit of the Sisters of Penance, which it 
 was even then her earnest desire to wear. 
 
 Thus encouraged, she became more than ever determined 
 to dedicate herself entirely to God. This resolution, however, 
 did not by any means fall in with the wishes and plans of her 
 parents. They had made up their mind that she should 
 marry, and had already selected for her future husband a 
 young man of the family connection. Seeing how little 
 inclined she was to yield to their desires, her mother left 
 nothing undone to persuade or compel her to compliance. To 
 prevent her spending so much time in solitude and prayer, she 
 was deprived of the little room she had occupied, and com- 
 manded to share the apartment of her younger brother, and 
 leave the door ajar all through the day ; while the kitchen-maid 
 was dismissed, that the drudgery of the house might be imposed 
 on the too pious child. On the other hand, to induce her to 
 follow the example of girls of her own age, and enjoy the 
 amusements of the day, she was taken to the hot baths in the 
 neighbourhood of Siena, and there thrown into the company 
 of the gay crowd, who frequented the place for pleasure as 
 much as for health's sake. But these efforts proved less than 
 ineffectual. She found means to practise extraordinary mortifi-
 
 n6 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 cations in the midst of the most distracting scenes, and the 
 drudgery of the housework only afforded her an opportunity 
 of making still more perfect the union of her soul with God. 
 She served her father and mother as if they had been the 
 Saviour and the disciples ; and made for herself a cell in her 
 own soul, whither she could retire in the midst of the most 
 distracting occupations. This trial lasted for some years ; till 
 at last her constancy and patience overcame the opposition of 
 her parents. Her father ordered that she should be no longer 
 interfered with, that she should have liberty to carry out her 
 wishes as to the state of life she had chosen ; and her mother, 
 some time after, yielded to her importunities, and spoke to 
 the Sisters of Penance about receiving Catherine into their 
 community. 
 
 The Sisters of Penance of St. Dominick were at that time 
 very numerous in Siena ; and among them were members of 
 several of the most illustrious families of the republic. They 
 were popularly called the Mantellate, from the cloak they wore. 
 Their habit was black and white the Dominican colours, and 
 also the Sienese. They elected their prioress, and lived in 
 obedience to her, though they did not at that time make the 
 religious vows. They were under the direction of the Friar 
 Preachers, and attended the offices in San Domenico, a church 
 of many memories even then ; for in the adjoining convent had 
 lived for some time, St. Thomas Aquinas and the Blessed 
 Ambrogio Sansedonio. In the chapel, at the end of the nave, 
 the cappella delle Volte, the sisters were accustomed to hold 
 their meetings. When it was proposed to the Mantellate to 
 receive into the community a girl of fifteen years of age, for 
 Catherine was no older at that time, they replied that such a 
 thing could not be done. They received only widows and 
 women of mature years ; a prudent rule, as they lived not in 
 community, but each one in her own house, or with her family, 
 and had special need of experience and discretion under these 
 circumstances. Another effort was made to induce the Mantel- 
 late to relax their rule, but in vain. At last Catherine, reduced 
 to a pitiable state by an attack of smallpox, and suffering as 
 well from trouble of mind as from the fever attending the 
 disease, besought her mother to make a final appeal to the 
 sisters; crying out in the midst of her distress, "Dearest 
 mother, if you hope to see me well and happy, procure for me
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 117 
 
 that I may be clothed as I desire ; for otherwise it appears to 
 me, that God may so have matters turn out that you will not 
 long have me in that nor in any other habit." Moved by the 
 anxiety, now only too sincere, of the poor mother, the sisters 
 consented to consider the proposal, and told her that if her 
 daughter were not very handsome they would receive her into 
 the community. On going to see her, they found her still so 
 disfigured by the disease from which she had been suffering, 
 that they concluded there would be no danger on the score of 
 too much beauty. Moreover, they were so charmed with the 
 sweetness and wisdom of her conversation, that they resolved 
 to make an exception in their rule, and admit her into the staid 
 company of the Sisters of Penance. 
 
 At last, one Sunday in the year 1362, the Benincasa house- 
 hold took their way from Fonte Branda to the church upon the 
 hill; and there, in the chapel of the sisterhood, and in the 
 presence of all the Mantellate, Catherine received, from the 
 hands of one of the frati, the habit she had so much desired, 
 and was made a daughter of St. Dominick. During the three 
 succeeding years her life was one of nearly absolute silence, of 
 uninterrupted and ecstatic prayer, of great interior trial, and of 
 almost incredible austerity. Many hours of the day she spent 
 in the church. When not there, she was to be found at home. 
 A favourite place of meditation was the terrace on the top of 
 the house, whence San Domenico could be seen. In her little 
 room was a plank that served as a bed, and a log of wood that 
 she used as a pillow. Extremely little sleep she allowed her- 
 self; for her habit was to watch through the night while the 
 Dominicans, her brothers, slept ; not until she heard the 
 second toll for matins would she allow herself to take some 
 rest. 
 
 Understanding from our Lord, when she was about nineteen 
 years of age, that it was His will she should quit her solitude 
 and serve Him in a life of active charity among her fellow- 
 creatures, she left her cell, joined the family at their meals, put 
 her hand to every household work, and went abroad to minister 
 to the poor and suffering. Much as she would have liked to 
 retire again into the hidden life, it soon became impossible for 
 her to do so. Her ardent zeal and superabounding charity, the 
 manifest power of her prayers, and the extraordinary grace 
 which seemed to touch the heart as surely as her words fell
 
 uS A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 upon the ear, so impressed the people with admiration, trust- 
 fulness, and affection, that they came to regard her not only as 
 a friend to each citizen, but as a benefactor to the republic. 
 She was wanted everywhere, inside and outside the city. With 
 superhuman energy and unalterable sweetness, she responded 
 to every call. She fed the poor, she nursed the sick, she went 
 into the prisons and softened hearts that had been hardened 
 in the cruel strifes of the time ; she reconciled enemies to 
 whom none other dared whisper peace. She would go to the 
 scaffold with one poor wretch, or she would address a multi- 
 tude in words of touching eloquence. In the ardour of her 
 love of God, every affection became intensified, and every 
 faculty received a stimulus. The clearness of her aim and 
 the strength of her will, the sweetness of her smile and the 
 graciousness of her manner, made her irresistible. Her desire 
 that people should know and serve God, and live in charity 
 with one another, gave her courage to undertake what any 
 other woman would have shrunk from ; while her vivid realisa- 
 tion of the misery of erring souls, and her intense desire to 
 save them, seemed to be communicated by some subtle force 
 to the objects of her charity, and to work the miracles of con- 
 version she longed to see accomplished. If these poor 
 sinners would only turn from their evil ways and cease to 
 rush alive into perdition, she would execute their wishes, 
 would take their sins upon herself, would do the utmost 
 penance for them. She did not make much distinction 
 between great and little works. All the energy of her soul 
 she put into the humblest offices of charity ; and she accom- 
 plished the most glorious deeds with a simplicity that was 
 perfect in self- forgetfulness. When her confessor, on one 
 occasion, privately rebuked her for allowing the people to bend 
 the knee before her, she answered : " God is my witness that I 
 frequently do not perceive the actions of those who surround 
 me." And we shall presently see that when on one occasion, 
 and under exciting circumstances, a multitude of people were 
 assembled around her, she did not see a face in all the crowd ; 
 she was thinking of one soul in grievous straits, and holding it 
 with all her might in the presence of God. 
 
 There was ample scope for the exercise of charity of every 
 kind in those days. Trade was interrupted by successive dis- 
 turbances, and many families, who had once lived in opulence,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 119 
 
 were reduced to poverty. Catherine, who was discerning as 
 well as open-handed in her charity, would seek these distressed 
 families, and privately supply their needs. Her father, who 
 greatly loved her, had given her permission to take from the 
 house whatever she wanted for the poor. In those times of 
 distress she would be up before the dawn, collecting the wine 
 and oil and bread she wanted for her pensioners ; and when 
 the bell of the Palazzo rang over the city, and it was lawful for 
 the inhabitants to appear in the streets, she would toil up 
 the steep ascent with her load, enter the houses before the 
 recipients of her charity were awake, and then, depositing 
 her burden within their reach, would hasten home again, and 
 arrive at her father's door before the city was astir. She had 
 little of her own to give, but what she had she royally bestowed. 
 One day, while she was in the church, a poor person besought 
 her for some relief; she never had money about her, but she 
 said that, if he would come with her to the house, she would 
 get him assistance. The need seemed to be too urgent ; the 
 beggar could not wait. She bethought her of a little silver 
 cross that hung to her beads ; she offered him this ; he took it 
 and departed, as if he had got all he could possibly desire. 
 Another day, as she was setting out with her companions, she 
 was importuned for an alms. " I assure you, dear brother, I have 
 no money," she said. " But," he rejoined, " you could give me 
 that mantle." "That is true," she replied, giving it to him. 
 Her friends had much trouble redeeming the mantle, and they 
 asked her how she could think of walking out without the 
 cloak of her Order. Her reply was, that she would rather be 
 without her cloak than without charity. 
 
 When the plague broke out a second time in Siena, Catherine's 
 heroic devotion was severely tested. Early and late she was in 
 the great hospital, Delia Scala, or visiting the stricken people 
 in their homes. In the hospital is still shown a sort of shed to 
 which she used to retire to take a few moments' rest ; and in 
 the house at Fonte Branda, they have the little lantern that 
 used to light her through the deserted streets, as she took her 
 way to the deathbed of the victims. She prepared the sufferers 
 to meet their God, and often, when they died, she buried them 
 with her own hands. 
 
 Political revolutions and party jealousies instigating cruel 
 deeds, gave her enough to do in another way. A true daughter
 
 iao A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 of the august republic, she used the freedom of action and 
 liberty of speech, which she enjoyed by right of citizenship, to 
 stay the hand of remorseless power when she could ; to repair 
 the evil work, when nothing else was left to do. The ferocity 
 of a triumphant faction she would fearlessly rebuke. If the 
 Magnificent Signori. the defenders and the captain of the people, 
 heard the truth from none other, they learned it from her. If 
 her words and her influence proved unavailing, then she would 
 take the victims of their injustice, or their cowardice, to her 
 heart, comfort them, soothe away the bitterness of exasperation 
 from their mind, strengthen them for death, and teach them to 
 walk with fearless step to the place of execution. Her influence 
 on prisoners was extraordinary. Those who were condemned 
 to death used to send for her ; and she succeeded in bringing 
 to a good state of mind many whom no one else could move 
 to repentance. 
 
 Among her many beautiful letters, there is one addressed to 
 " All the Prisoners in Siena on Good Friday." In this letter 
 she implores them to fix their eyes on Christ crucified, that 
 they may learn what true patience is ; for the blood of Jesus, 
 she reminds them, recalls our own iniquities and the infinite 
 mercy and charity of God, since it was our sins that caused the 
 death of the Divine Son. Between the Almighty and us there 
 had been a great war, and in our revolt we were reduced to 
 such extremity that we had no strength left to take the bitter 
 remedy our pitiable state required. But He, the loving Saviour, 
 took our infirmity upon Himself; assumed our weakness, and 
 clothed Himself with our mortal flesh. He did as the nursing 
 mother does, who takes the medicine which her poor weak 
 infant cannot taste for its bitterness. " O most gentle loving 
 Jesus!" she exclaims,, "you have done even as the tender 
 mother : you have taken the intolerable remedy. You have 
 borne the pains, the opprobrium, the ill-usage, the outrages. 
 You suffered yourself to be bound and stricken ; to be scourged 
 at the column ; to be nailed to the cross ; saturated with injuries 
 and affronts ; tormented and devoured with thirst ; while for 
 sole refreshment they offered you, in derision, vinegar and gall. 
 And all this you endured with patience, praying for those 
 who crucified you. Oh, unspeakable love ! Not only did you 
 pray for those who crucified you, but you made excuses for 
 them, saying, ' Father, forgive them, for they know not what
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 121 
 
 they do.' Oh ! patience, exceeding all patience ! Who was 
 it that ever, in the midst of blows and torments and the agony 
 of death, pardoned and prayed for His executioners ? You 
 alone have done it, Lord. For true it is that you have taken 
 the remedy for your poor weak children ; and with your death 
 you have bestowed life on men. Tasting the bitterness of death, 
 you have left the sweetness of it for us. You have drawn us to 
 your breast like a tender mother, and fed us with grace divine ; 
 you have swallowed the bitter potion, and given to us health 
 again." And then, addressing these, the captive citizens of her 
 well - beloved Siena, she comforts them in the only way that 
 consolation can reach them, and in words that, with their 
 martial ring, are well calculated to stir and fortify these luck- 
 less sons of the republic. " He, the Saviour, has made Him- 
 self our Champion and our Chief. He has marched into the 
 field of battle ; He has fought and conquered the very devils. 
 St. Augustine says, that ' with His unarmed hand, our Captain 
 has vanquished our foes ; He has come into the field on the 
 wood of the most holy cross.' The crown of thorns is His 
 helmet ; the flagellated flesh is His cuirass ; He has nails in His 
 hands for gauntlets, and the iron in His feet is for spurs. The 
 lance in His side is the sword with which He conquered death 
 for men. See, then, how nobly armed our Captain is ! Shall 
 we not follow Him with undaunted courage in all our woes 
 and tribulations ? " 
 
 A still more beautiful letter, and remarkable as being the 
 only one in which St. Catherine refers at any length to the part 
 she herself took in an event of importance, is that in which she 
 gives an account of her going to visit in prison, and attending 
 to the scaffold, a young gentleman of Perugia, named Nicolo 
 Tuldo, who, having spoken disrespectfully of the rulers of Siena, 
 and possibly incited his friends in the city to rebel against the 
 not very popular Government, was seized and condemned to 
 lose his life. The cruelty of the sentence so exasperated the 
 young man, that he broke forth into expressions of uncontroll- 
 able grief; uttered terrible imprecations against the Signoria ; 
 and turned his back on God in his despair. Many of the 
 priests went to him, but did not succeed in making any impres- 
 sion. Further attempts to turn his heart to God and reconcile 
 him to his fate would have been abandoned, had it not been 
 perceived that, on hearing Catherine's name mentioned, a gleam
 
 122 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 of faith and hope seemed to illuminate his soul. She was 
 therefore sent for. 
 
 " I went to see the person you know of," she writes to Father 
 Raymond, of Capua; " and he was so comforted and encouraged 
 that he went to confession, and showed the best possible dis- 
 positions. He made me promise, for the love of God, that when 
 the day of justice came I would be with him. And this I 
 promised and did. In the morning, before the bell (of the 
 Palazzo) rang, I went to him, and the visit consoled him greatly. 
 I brought him to hear mass, and he received Holy Com- 
 munion, which he had never done in his life before. His will 
 became submissive and united to the will of God ; and the 
 only thing that made him uneasy was the fear that his courage 
 might fail at the last moment. But the infinite goodness of 
 God so filled him with the love and desire of His presence that 
 he longed to be with Him. ' Stay with me,' he said, ' and do 
 not forsake me, and all will go well, and I shall die content.' 
 And he laid his head against my breast. Then I felt a great 
 joy, and as if his blood were an odour of sacrifice ; and I wished 
 that mine too might be poured forth for the sake of Jesus, the 
 Spouse of our souls. This desire grew stronger and stronger ; 
 and perceiving his apprehension, I said to him, ' Be of good 
 courage, brother mine, for we shall soon be at the marriage- 
 feast in heaven. You will go bathed in the blood of the Son 
 of God, and with the sweet name of Jesus, which I wish you 
 never for a moment to forget. And you will find me waiting 
 for you at the place of justice.' And then, father and dear 
 son, every shadow of fear left him, and his countenance changed 
 even from sadness to delight. And in his joy and exultation 
 he cried out, ' How is it that such a grace should be conferred 
 on me ! Can it be true, that the delight of my soul will be 
 waiting for me at the holy place of justice ! ' Judge what 
 divine light was given to him that he should call the place of 
 execution 'holy.' And then he said, 'Yes; I will go forth 
 strong and happy ; and I shall count it a thousand years until 
 that moment, for thinking that you will be waiting for me 
 there.' And he spoke words of such sweet meaning that I was 
 astonished at the goodness of God. Then I went to the place 
 of justice, and while I waited I prayed, and thought of Mary 
 and of Catherine, virgin and martyr. Before he came, I stooped 
 down and laid my neck on the block ; but I did not obtain
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 123 
 
 what I desired. And while there, I prayed with all my heart, 
 and said, ''Mary! what I ask is that, when the last moment 
 comes, divine light and peace of mind shall be given to him, 
 and that I shall have grace to see him return to his last end 
 to God.' My soul was so dilated with the joy of the promise 
 that was then made to me that, though a great multitude filled 
 the place, I did not see a soul in all the crowd. At last he 
 came like a gentle lamb ; and, seeing me, he began to smile, 
 and asked me to make the sign of the cross on him. When I 
 had done so I whispered, ' Dear brother, go forth now to the 
 marriage feast in heaven, and enjoy the life that never shall 
 have an end.' He laid himself down most meekly, and I 
 bared his neck ; and bending close to him, I reminded him of 
 the blood of the Lamb. He tittered no syllable but Jesus, 
 Catherine ; and, with these words upon his lips, I received his 
 head into my hands." 
 
 And then, closing her eyes, she was wrapped in ecstasy ; and 
 she saw in a light as clear as the sun that the divine goodness 
 had accepted the sacrifice of the young man's blood, his holy 
 desires, his soul ; and she understood that it was through grace 
 and mercy alone he received salvation, and not through any 
 merit of his own. And she was overwhelmed with delight to 
 see with what ineffable love the divine goodness received the 
 soul that had gone forth from the body, and endowed it with 
 the power of the Father, the love of the Son, and the ravishing 
 joy of the Holy Ghost. Tuldo seemed, in the vision, to turn 
 and look back, as the bride does when she has reached the 
 bridegroom's house, saluting with grateful farewell those who 
 came with her to the door. 
 
 The people, witnessing this scene, and observing that Tuldo 
 turned his eyes to heaven with so fixed a gaze that his eyelids 
 were motionless, became deeply affected. They now regarded 
 as a martyr the stranger gentleman who had received at their 
 hands so sad a doom. They took away his body to bury it 
 with solemn ceremonial. 
 
 But Catherine, coming down from that place of justice 
 filled with unspeakable peace, could not bear to wash a\vay 
 the blood the blood of sacrifice that had fallen on her in 
 that hour.
 
 124 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 II. 
 
 " Grande cittadino, grande anima, scrittore grande." 
 
 FORTUNATELY for St. Catherine, she had that " cell of the soul " 
 to which she could retire amidst the pressure of varying cir- 
 cumstances, and the throng of people of every condition and 
 degree by which she was surrounded. To this is due the out- 
 ward serenity and the interior peace which she maintained 
 throughout a life of constant agitation, grave anxieties, and 
 extraordinary responsibility. We hardly ever find her alone. 
 Even when she is engaged in prayer we see people standing 
 not far off, waiting to take her to some quarter of the city where 
 there is trouble to be relieved, or to carry her away to a distant 
 part of the territory to end a feud between rival families, or to 
 reconcile a hostile faction to the State. Within the wider circle 
 of citizenship, there was the nearer circle of friendship and 
 discipleship ; so that, if the Sienese as a body did not on all 
 occasions claim her services, she would still have had enough 
 to do with the men and women who formed her spiritual family, 
 ruled their lives by her counsel, and were never satisfied to be 
 separated from her. Naturally, many of her most ardent dis- 
 ciples, as well as her dearest friends, were among the Mantel- 
 late of St. Dominick. As we have had already occasion to 
 mention, these members of the Third Order did not live in 
 community, but continued to reside with their parents or their 
 children, as the case might be ; and were free to accompany 
 Catherine in the many journeys she had to make into the 
 country parts of the territory, to other Tuscan cities, and to 
 far-distant countries. Family ties appear to have been in no 
 way loosened when the Sisters of Penance were clothed in the 
 habit of the Order. On the contrary, each member, without 
 shuffling off her own domestic cares, snared the anxieties of the 
 rest. Catherine's clear head, helpful hand, and efficacious 
 prayers were relied on in every emergency ; and occasions were 
 not few, for many of the Mantellate belonged to the class of 
 the nobili who were constantly under the cloud of suspicion, 
 or were actually in strife with the democratic party in the 
 republic. 
 The sister with whom St. Catherine was most closely united
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 125 
 
 in friendship was Monna Alessia, the youthful widow of one of 
 the Saracini family, a man of rank and education. Alessia 
 became so much attached to Catherine Benincasa, that she left 
 her own residence and took a house at Fonte Branda. She 
 lived with her father-in-law and her mother ; spent her fortune 
 in helping the poor ; kept very close to her friend ; and, 
 desiring to wear the same habit, soon became enrolled among 
 the Mantellate. Catherine used to spend days and weeks and 
 months with Alessia. One day the latter saw, as she stood at 
 the window, two criminals led through the streets to execution, 
 and heard them blaspheming as they passed. Moved with 
 compassion, she called to Catherine to come and see the un- 
 fortunate men, who were tied to a stake on a cart, while the 
 executioners tortured them with red-hot pincers. She saw 
 them, turned away, and retired to pray. When the proces- 
 sion arrived at the city gate, an extraordinary change came over 
 the bandits. They thought the Saviour met them there all 
 covered with wounds and blood, and exhorted them to confess 
 their sins and be converted. Suddenly their imprecations 
 ceased ; they asked the priests, whose ministrations they had 
 obstinately refused, to help them, humbly acknowledged their 
 crimes, and thanked God aloud for having showed them mercy. 
 The spectators were astonished ; and the executioners, marvel- 
 ling at what they saw and heard, could not bear to torture the 
 criminals any more. Some who knew Catherine intimately, 
 felt convinced that so singular a conversion must have been 
 due to her intercession ; and having gone to ask Alessia 
 whether the saint had been concerned for those men, ascer- 
 tained that she had wrestled, so to speak, with God for the 
 poor sinners, and that, at the very moment the long constrain- 
 ing prayer was ended, they had given up their souls in peace. 
 
 On another occasion, Catherine remained a long time in the 
 same house for the sake of Alessia's father-in-law, Francesco 
 Saracini, an old gentleman of eighty years, who had only been 
 once at confession in his life, had never received Holy Com- 
 munion, and was still full of the outrageous fury and vengeful 
 spirit of the time. Alessia had often, but without effect, be- 
 sought him to give up his enmities and be reconciled to God. 
 At last the thought struck her that, if Catherine would come 
 and stay with her, some impression might be made during the 
 long winter evenings by the conversation of her friend. She
 
 126 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 was not mistaken, for though the old gentleman at first made 
 a jest of the good counsels of the saint, he was in the end 
 attracted and persuaded by her touching eloquence. One day 
 he told her that he was resolved to make his peace with God ; 
 but at the same time acknowledged that he entertained so 
 great a hatred for a certain prior, that he was daily on the 
 watch for an opportunity to take his life. However, after 
 Catherine had reasoned with him, he said he would do what- 
 ever she recommended. " I wish, then," she said, "that for the 
 love of our Lord Jesus Christ, and that you may be pardoned 
 yourself, you would go and be reconciled with the prior." 
 Francesco rose early next morning, and, taking a falcon of 
 which he was very fond, went to the church to seek the prior, 
 who, seeing his enemy approach, took to flight. The old gentle- 
 man sent a priest to say that no injury was intended ; that, 
 on the contrary, Saracini was the bearer of good news. Where- 
 upon the prior, understanding that his enemy was unarmed, 
 and taking with him a number of persons for greater security, 
 consented to an interview. Francesco then told the prior how 
 the grace of God had touched his heart; and offered the 
 falcon as a pledge of peace. Returning to Catherine, he told 
 her what he had done, and said he would obey her again if she 
 had anything more to command. She then advised him to go 
 to confession to one of the frati whom she named ; and this 
 he did. But the confessor, being at a loss what work of satis- 
 faction to assign a man of his great age, who was, moreover, far 
 from rich, gave him some trifling penance, desiring him to 
 return to her who sent him and do whatever she should tell 
 him. For some time after this, the old man was to be seen 
 every morning at early dawn taking his way in silence to the 
 Duomo, and reciting a hundred Pater and a hundred Ave, 
 keeping the reckoning by means of a cord with a hundred 
 knots, which the saint had given him for that purpose. 
 
 Whenever it happened that Alessia did not accompany her 
 friend on a journey, she felt the separation very sensibly, and 
 appears to have had no hesitation in saying so. The saint 
 -would then have to write, rebuking her for cherishing too 
 .strong an attachment, and counselling her to raise her thoughts 
 to a higher standard of renunciation. This lesson, which is 
 given with great tenderness and force in the letters to Alessia, 
 is also inculcated in a most impressive manner in a letter
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 127 
 
 written to two other sisters who remained in Siena during the 
 temporary absence of Catherine at the castle of the Salembeni. 
 " Love and obedience," the saint writes, " have power to free 
 us from our troubles, and to dissipate the darkness that over- 
 shadows us ; for obedience destroys the very root of our 
 troubles, namely, our own perverse will, which is literally 
 annihilated in the virtue of true and holy obedience. The 
 darkness that obscures the spirit is dispelled by charity and 
 union with God ; for He is love indeed, and light eternal. No 
 one who takes this light as a guide need fear to wander from 
 the right road. And therefore, most dear daughters, it is my 
 desire, since the necessity is so great, that you should learn to 
 renounce your own will and take this light for your guide. 
 And this, I well remember, is the doctrine I have always taught 
 you, though it seems to have made but a slight impression. 
 Do now, I beseech you, what you have hitherto neglected; 
 otherwise I, who am truly deserving of every punishment, shall 
 be grieved exceedingly. For the honour of God we have now 
 to do what the holy apostles did when, having received the 
 Holy Ghost, they were separated one from another, and taken 
 from their sweet mother, Mary. Well may we indeed believe 
 that their delight would have been to remain together ; and yet 
 they gave up their own will, seeking the honour of God and 
 the salvation of souls. And though Mary was taken from 
 them, they did not for that suppose that she ceased to love them 
 or that they should ever be forgotten. Let this be the rule we 
 take for ourselves. I know very well that my presence is a 
 source of great comfort to you ; nevertheless, in the spirit of 
 true obedience, you must renounce your own consolation for 
 God's sake and for the good of souls, and not listen to the 
 suggestions of the devil, seeking to persuade you that you are 
 deprived of the affection I have for your body and soul. 
 Otherwise there would be no true love in you. And of this be 
 very sure, that I love you for God alone. Why then should 
 you be unreasonably afflicted about what must necessarily be 
 done ? Oh ! how are we ever to accomplish great things if we 
 thus fall short on slight occasions ! God separates us, or lets 
 us stay together, according as circumstances require. Our dear 
 Saviour wishes and permits that we should part from one 
 another for His honour. Take courage then, my children ; begin 
 to sacrifice your own will to God ; and do not always be look
 
 128 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 ing for the food of infants when you should rather have strong 
 teeth to eat hard and even bitter bread, if need should be." 
 
 In a letter to Alessia, and alluding to the trials she has her- 
 self to endure in the place she is staying at, Catherine expresses 
 her readiness, nay, even her desire, to suffer, if it should be 
 God's good pleasure still further to afflict her. She will have 
 sorrows for meat, and tears for drink, and the sweat of labour 
 for refreshment. Troubles will cure her, and pain will make 
 her strong. Let suffering, then, be a light to her steps, and 
 trials clothe her as a garment, when she shall have been freed 
 from every vestige of self-love, spiritual and temporal. " The 
 pain I have endured," she says, " from seeing myself deprived 
 of every human consolation, has shown me how destitute I am 
 of real strength and virtue. Therefore, most dear daughter, I 
 entreat you, for the love of Jesus crucified, not to cease praying, 
 but, on the contrary, to redouble your supplications in my 
 behalf; for I have much greater need of your help than you 
 can imagine. And give thanks to God for me also. And beg 
 of Him that I may have grace to lay down my life for Him ; 
 and that, if it please Him, He will deliver me from the burden 
 of this body, for indeed this life of mine is little use to any 
 one : rather is an encumbrance and offence to everyone, here 
 and elsewhere, by reason of my sins. May God in His mercy 
 deliver me from my many faults ; grant me, during the short 
 time I have to remain in the world, to be inflamed with the 
 love of virtue ; and give me strength to offer Him, while I 
 suffer, longing and ardent and painful desires for the salvation 
 of all men and for the reformation of the Holy Church. 
 Rejoice, rejoice in the cross with me ; for the cross is a couch 
 on which the spirit finds repose; a table where the soul par- 
 takes of the food and fruit of patience, with great peace and 
 unalterable calm." 
 
 Alessia was not the only member of the noble Saracina 
 family among the Sisters of Penance at that time ; there was 
 also Francesca, the widow of Clemente Gori, who devoted 
 herself to works of charity, and whose four children, in the 
 course of time, entered the Dominican Order. One of her 
 friends, speaking of Francesca, says : " Her soul was tenderly 
 united to God and to blessed Catherine " : a not unusual turn 
 of expression in the memoirs before us; for we constantly find 
 it said that such a one was " a most pious man and greatly
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 129 
 
 devoted to the saint," or that such another was " most faithful 
 to God and the Church, and strongly attached to Catherine." 
 Francesca, or "Cecca," as she is generally called in the letters, 
 was rarely separated from Catherine. Lisa di Colombini, the 
 widow of Catherine's brother, Bartolo, was likewise constantly 
 in the same company ; and so, also, were another Catherine, 
 the daughter of Schetto of Siena, a second Francesca, and a 
 certain Giovanna Pazza. These devoted friends and insepar- 
 able companions often acted the part of amanuenses to 
 Catherine. The familiar letters were dictated to them, and 
 we not unfrequently trace the secretary's hand when, in the 
 concluding paragraph of the missive, she sends a friendly 
 greeting to the correspondent, bringing in her own name in a 
 playful, disparaging way. That "foolish creature Cecca," or 
 "Cecca, who is always losing her time," desires to be remem- 
 bered a thousand times. That "stupid Catherine" sends 
 some other message. " Alessia wonders much that you have 
 never written to her," or that "negligent Alessia would greatly 
 like to be folded in this letter and sent to you." Generally all 
 who are of the family for the moment are mentioned together 
 "Monna Lisa, Francesco, ed io," or "Alessia, ed io, e 
 Cecca," as the case might be, send an affectionate greeting or 
 a pious remembrance to the absent friend. 
 
 Thus we seldom see the saint except surrounded by her 
 companions ; nor do we often find her on her journeys, or 
 engaged in any serious work, without one or more of the frati 
 of San Domenico being of the company. The Friar Preachers, 
 as we have said, were the spiritual directors of the community 
 to which St. Catherine belonged, and they had always been 
 on intimate terms with the Benincasa family. Moreover, the 
 presence of a priest was often required in the affairs that she 
 was concerned about ; while her assistance was constantly im- 
 portant to the Dominicans in their labours among the people. 
 Catherine's confessor, till her twenty-fourth year, was Father 
 Thomas della Fonte, already mentioned as the orphan youth 
 who had been brought up in her father's house. He was 
 afterwards more intimately connected with the family by the 
 marriage of one of his relatives with Catherine's sister, 
 Niccoluccia. He was a man of great piety, but was not con- 
 sidered so learned as many of the other frati. We have a few 
 very graceful letters addressed by Catherine to Father Thomas.
 
 ijo A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 Another of the Friar Preachers, Thomas di Siena, when qliite 
 young became acquainted with the family, and always con- 
 tinued closely allied in friendship with Catherine. He has 
 left an interesting account of the saint, to which we are in- 
 debted for many of the little traits that enable us to realise in 
 some degree the impression she made on those who happened 
 to be brought into relationship with her. For instance, he lets 
 us see that she was never idle ; that when not actually in prayer, 
 or performing some work of charity, she was either instruct- 
 ing her neighbours or dictating letters to her secretaries. He 
 describes how courteous, kindly, and even gladsome her 
 manner always was ; and speaks of her delight in singing 
 sacred canticles, and of her singular love for flowers, which 
 she used to arrange with great skill in bouquets, in the shape of 
 coronets or crosses to decorate the altars with, or give as a 
 remembrance of the love of God to Father Thomas or some 
 other friend. 
 
 Father Bartholomew Dominici, who also knew the saint 
 long and intimately, has left a memoir which strongly supports 
 Father Thomas's testimony. He, too, speaks of Catherine's 
 patience and cheerfulness. No matter how acute her suffer- 
 ings were, he never saw even a shade of melancholy cross her 
 face. Her conversation, he says, charmed everyone. The 
 people, surprised at her learning and eloquence, supposed that 
 the Friar Preachers must have taught her what she knew ; but 
 Father Bartholomew says that it was quite the contrary in fact, 
 that it was Catherine who instructed the frati. In this, again, 
 he only supplements the testimony of Father Thomas, who 
 says it would be impossible to describe the effect her example 
 and her exhortations produced among the Friar Preachers. 
 Father Bartholomew, who was at one time her confessor, had 
 unbounded confidence in the power of Catherine's intercession. 
 When away from Siena, if any trouble befell him, he could not 
 help mentally invoking her assistance. On one very distressing 
 occasion, he records his belief that she actually became aware 
 of his great need and obtained him succour. He was not the 
 only one of St. Catherine's spiritual family who made the same 
 appeal under similar circumstances and was alike befriended. 
 Father Bartholomew's disposition was singularly affectionate ; 
 but he appears to have been often much tormented with 
 scruples. We see this clearly in the letters written to him
 
 A CITIZEN SAItiT 131 
 
 by Catherine, when he was called from Siena to preach 
 at Asciano, lecture at Pisa, or profess theology at Florence. 
 " Put away," she writes, " every uneasy thought that stops you 
 in your course, and take other people's opinion rather than, 
 your own. And if the devil should strive to disturb your 
 conscience, tell him that he will have to answer to me for that 
 as well as for many other things besides ; for a mother, you 
 know, must be responsible for her child." And again : " I 
 have received your letter, and understand what you say con- 
 cerning the doubt you have. Before long, please God, we 
 shall be able to talk the matter over together. I am quite 
 convinced that Divine Providence will not allow your labours 
 to be fruitless ; you shall have the fruit without knowing how, 
 and in virtue of profound humility. I wish you to go on, and 
 with all tenderness entreat you as a son ; and I, your poor, 
 unworthy mother, will offer you and keep you in the presence 
 of our Father, the everlasting God. And if ever I was anxious 
 about your soul, I am certainly more so than ever this day. 
 You were able to perceive this at Easter : and now we have 
 the Easter every day. Therefore you can never be left without 
 me, for I am always near you in holy desires." When he 
 expresses anxiety to have her come to Asciano to help in 
 some affair, she answers that she would gladly do so if God 
 permitted it, either for His honour or for the father's satisfac- 
 tion or her own, which would be very great. But she tells 
 him the weather has been very rainy, and she has been so ill 
 for more than ten days that it was as much as she could do to 
 get to the church on Sunday. And in the same letter she says: 
 " Put all your strength into everything you have to do ; chase 
 away the darkness and attain to light, not dwelling upon our 
 human weakness, but remembering that in Christ cruciried you 
 can do all things. And I shall never leave you, but will stand 
 beside you by means of that unseen vision which the Holy 
 Spirit can bestow." 
 
 But the Dominican father who was most intimately, and for 
 the longest time, associated with the saint, was blessed Ray- 
 mond of Capua, a man of high rank, of the noble race of the 
 Delle Vigna, and descended from Pier delle Vigna, the 
 chancellor of the Emperor Frederick n. Having been for 
 four years director of a convent of Dominican nuns at Monte- 
 pulciano, he was sent to profess theology in Siena in 1373.
 
 132 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 Doubtless, he had already known the saint by reputation. He 
 cannot but have heard of her from Father Thomas and another 
 of the frati of San Domenico, who not very long before were 
 overtaken by robbers on the road between Siena and Monte- 
 pulciano. There was no convent of the Order in the latter city, 
 and Father Raymond, having but one companion with him, was 
 always delighted to receive a visit from any of his friends from 
 the neighbouring convents. The two fratl had set out to 
 visit Father Raymond, and as Father Thomas could not 
 remain long away from Catherine, they had taken horses 
 which had been lent to them for the journey. They had 
 been imprudent enough to stop to rest at an inn; and the 
 people of the place, seeing they were alone and unarmed, con- 
 ceived the design of robbing them ; went on before them ; and, 
 when the travellers arrived at a lonesome part of the road, robbed 
 them and dragged them into the forest with the intention of 
 murdering them, so as to leave no traces of the crime. The 
 friars had appealed in vain to the compassion of the brigands, 
 when Father Thomas, remembering the saint his penitent, 
 began to pray to her, saying, " O Catherine, meek and devoted 
 servant of God, help us in this peril." Suddenly the robber 
 who was nearest to Father Thomas, and appeared to have 
 been charged to kill him, turned to the rest and said, " Why 
 should we kill these poor friars who never did us any harm ? 
 It would be a dreadful crime ! Let us release them ; they are 
 good-hearted men, and will not betray us." The rest agreed at 
 once, and restoring to the friars their garments and horses, and 
 all that had been taken except a small sum of money, set them 
 on the road to Montepulciano, where they arrived the same 
 day and related their adventures to Father Raymond. 
 
 When settled in the convent of San Domenico, Father 
 Raymond became acquainted with Catherine, who believed 
 that he had been specially given to her as confessor by the 
 Blessed Virgin. He was himself particularly devout to Mary, 
 and has left among his works a treatise on the Magnificat. In 
 Catherine's letters to Father Raymond we see more frequently 
 invoked than in other parts of her correspondence, " Quella 
 dolce madre Maria." He soon felt the attraction and 
 strengthening influence of her sanctity ; and at the same 
 time that he was her spiritual father, he was thankful to God 
 to be counted among her disciples, and allowed to be much
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 133 
 
 domesticated with her. He always addressed her as " Mother," 
 and entertained the strongest affection for her, " Molto e 
 santamente la amasse." The plague which raged in Siena 
 during three years, and carried off the Podesta and his son, six 
 judges, and a third of the population, was at its height when 
 Father Raymond came to San Domenico. All who could leave 
 the city had fled away, and he was dismayed by the horror and 
 desolation that reigned around. But Catherine, who with 
 several of the sisters succoured the plague-stricken people, 
 taught him that we should love our neighbour's soul more than 
 our own body; and, astonished at her devotion and stimulated 
 by her example, he resolved to sacrifice his life to the care of 
 the sick and dying. He found himself almost alone in this 
 work, and hardly allowed himself time to eat or sleep. One 
 day he was seized with the terrible symptoms which he well 
 knew foreboded an attack of the fatal disease, and he thought 
 his own summons had come. With difficulty he dragged him- 
 self to Catherine's house. She was out attending a sick person, 
 and before she could be found and told of his condition, he had 
 become so ill that he was obliged to lie down. Returning and 
 seeing him in such suffering, she knelt beside him, and placing 
 her hand on his forehead began to pray interiorily, as was her 
 wont ; while he, seeing her enter into an ecstasy, began to 
 hope he should obtain some great good for soul or body. 
 After an hour and a half Catherine rose up from her prayer, 
 gave him some nourishment with her own hand, and desired 
 him to sleep a little. When he awoke the pains had left him, 
 and he felt as well as if nothing had happened. " Now go," 
 said Catherine to him, " and labour for the salvation of souls, 
 and render thanks to the Omnipotent Lord who has delivered 
 you from this danger." 
 
 By this time Catherine's fame had spread far beyond the 
 walls of Siena, and when the plague had ceased, the people 
 began to come in crowds to hear her and to see her. Pope 
 Gregory XL, hearing of the great influence she exercised and 
 the number of conversions effected by her means, desired her 
 to go through the country parts of the republic, and gave 
 Father Raymond and two other priests the powers reserved to 
 bishops for absolving all who went to Catherine and afterwards 
 confessed their sins. Father Raymond says he often saw more 
 than a thousand men and women hastening to her from the
 
 I 3 4 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 mountains and the surrounding country. She could not 
 possibly speak to them all ; but such a light of sanctity shone 
 in her countenance that her presence sufficed to convert them. 
 The multitude was so great, the confessors were sometimes 
 discouraged and often exhausted with fatigue, as they frequently 
 had to remain fasting until evening. But Catherine, always 
 telling the sisters to take good care of the frati, never in- 
 terrupted her prayer, and never seemed to grow tired. Her 
 joy was indescribable ; and her companions, seeing it, were 
 consoled and encouraged to bear the labour and fatigue they 
 had to go through. 
 
 Meanwhile Catherine, attended by some of the sisters and 
 accompanied by one or more of the frati, had frequently to 
 visit the towns, convents, or castles of the territory under some- 
 what different circumstances. Though her object was always 
 some great good, such as the arrangement of important 
 business, the reconciliation of enemies, if not actually the 
 saving of souls, the rulers of the republic were not invariably 
 satisfied to have her absent from the city ; they were even 
 at times uneasy until they had her back again. This was 
 particularly the case whenever she remained for a considerable 
 time, as not unfrequently happened, at the Rocca l di Tentin- 
 nano, the castle of the Salembeni, which was situated in the 
 beautiful valley of the Orcia, about twenty-three miles from 
 Siena. Here, in the fortress castle of the patrician family, 
 dwelt great friends of the saint the Countess Bianchina, her 
 son Giovanni d'Agnolino Salembeni, a man remarkable for 
 courage and capacity, his sisters and children. Agnolino's 
 grandfather, who had been captain of the Orvietani, was con- 
 sidered one of the richest men in Italy ; and his father, 
 Giovanni, councillor of Charles iv., had splendidly entertained 
 at his house the emperor and all his Court The connections 
 of the Salembeni were influential in Italy, and they headed the 
 nobles in Siena, though they were not always at peace with the 
 other aristocratic families of the republic, any more than with 
 the popular party' when at the head of affairs. Much of their 
 own blood, as well as that of their rivals, was spilled in contests 
 with the Tolomei, and many of them perished in war with the 
 republic itself. A frightful occurrence had shortly before taken 
 
 1 "The fine old castle called La Rocca, like all the to\yn castles in th.is, 
 part of Italy," ()ays fifar K.qme^ yol, ii. p. 70.,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 135 
 
 place in the city, when one of the family, who had been guilty 
 of an atrocious murder, having been spared by the too timorous 
 senator whose office it was to pronounce sentence on the 
 offender, the popolani revolted, and, taking the sword of justice 
 into their own hand, beheaded Salembeni in the piazza. 
 
 These events did not sweeten the relations between the 
 parties. The citizens did not like Catherine's visits to La 
 Rocca, and dreaded that she might take the part of the 
 Salembeni against the republic. Even when she went there to 
 endeavour to settle the disputes between the popular party and 
 that powerful family, the governors seem to have been unable to 
 control their apprehensions. Catherine's position on such 
 occasions cannot have been either easy or agreeable ; and 
 accordingly in her letters from La Rocca w r e find allusions to 
 many trials and difficulties. She says in one place, that they 
 are living in the midst of brigands; in another, that they are 
 surrounded by incarnate demons ; or she speaks of herself as 
 dwelling, in the island of La Rocca, beaten by all the winds. 
 Of course, she was not leff, even at the worst, without her 
 consolations, any more than without her friends. On one 
 occasion there were with her Father Raymond, Father Thomas 
 della Fonte, Lisa, and another sister. Alessia was of the 
 company another time. As usual, the people of the surround- 
 ing country would come to claim a share in Catherine's interest 
 and charity. She would heal and comfort them ; and the 
 frati would have enough to do ministering to their spiritual 
 wants. Once it happened that, while Catherine and her friends 
 were thus occupied at La Rocca, she received a letter from one 
 of her correspondents, Salvi, the son of Messer Pietro, gold- 
 smith in Siena, informing her of the uneasiness her absence 
 created, and of the suspicions excited against Father Raymond, 
 and urging her to return to the city without delay. 
 
 This message provoked a characteristic reply. After speaking 
 of the inutility of faith without works, and of the impossibility 
 of coming to the Father except by following the footsteps of the 
 Son whose path was strewn with briars and thorns, St. Catherine 
 tells Salvi that she believes it to be the will of God she should 
 remain where she is. She had felt some anxiety lest she might 
 displease Almighty God by staying when she and Father Ray- 
 mond were the objects of such complaints and suspicions ; 
 but divine Truth had given her to understand that she should
 
 1 36 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 keep her place at the table of the holy cross in the midst of 
 sufferings and murmurs, seeking the honour of God and the 
 good of souls. The people here were intrusted to her hands 
 that she might snatch them from the grasp of the evil one, and 
 reconcile them to God and to one another. She must continue 
 as she had begun, convinced that all this mischievous inter- 
 ference was the work of the devil. " I shall therefore do all I 
 possibly can," she continues, "for the honour of God, the 
 good of souls, and the welfare of our city ; even though the 
 task may be but indifferently accomplished after all. And it is 
 a delight to me to follow the footsteps of my Creator, and 
 receive evil for good ; to seek the honour of others, and be put 
 to shame myself; to be ready to sacrifice my life for those who 
 would willingly compass my death. For, what they call death 
 is life to us ; and their contempt we account as glory. The 
 disgrace remains with him who does the evil deed. Where 
 there is no sin, there is no shame nor dread of punishment. 
 My trust is in Domino nostro Jesu Christo, and not in men. I 
 shall go on therefore ; and if they insult and persecute me, I 
 will answer with tears and ceaseless prayers for them as long as 
 the grace of God remains with me. And whether the devil 
 likes it or likes it not, I shall devote my life to the honour of 
 God and the salvation of souls, and to doing good to the whole 
 world, but most of all to my own city. And what a shame it 
 is for the citizens of Siena to think, or for a moment imagine, 
 that we could be employed hatching conspiracies in the 
 territory of the Salembeni or anywhere else in the world ! 
 They suspect the servants of God, and seem to entertain no 
 distrust of the wicked ; but they prophesy aright unknown to 
 themselves. They prophesy after the manner of Caiphas, when 
 he said that one man should die that the people might not 
 perish. He knew not what he was saying, but the Holy Ghost 
 knew well and spoke by his mouth. Just in the same way, my 
 citizens think that I and those who are with me hatch con- 
 spiracies ; and they say what is true without understanding the 
 meaning of their words. They are prophets in their way. For 
 the only object I and those who are with me have at heart is to 
 discomfit the devil, and deprive him of the power he has acquired 
 over human beings by mortal sin. I want to take hatred out 
 of the hearts of men, and reconcile them with Christ crucified 
 and with one another. These are the plots we are engaged in,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 137 
 
 and these are the things I desire to see those who are with me 
 busy about. All that I have to complain of is that we are not 
 working heartily enough, we are getting on too slowly. And 
 you, my dear son, I beg that you and the others will pray to 
 God that I may be full of zeal for this work and for all that 
 may contribute to the honour of God and the good of souls. 
 I must conclude now, though I could say a great deal more. 
 The true disciple of Christ is not he who says, Lord ! Lord I 
 but he who follows in His footsteps. Tell Francesco to be of 
 good courage in Jesus Christ. Father Raymond, poor 
 calumniated man, begs you will pray for him that he may do 
 everything that is right, and have the gift of patience." 
 
 It was no trifling matter to incur the jealousy or displeasure 
 of republican rulers in those days. Nicolo Tuldo, as we have 
 seen, fared badly in consequence of incautious words ; and we 
 find that another gentleman was sentenced to death because, 
 having given an entertainment in his house outside the city, he 
 had not invited the reformers. In this, however, the Sienese 
 were not worse than the Venetians. The former beheaded the 
 suspected ; the latter drowned them. At anyrate, it is no 
 wonder that Catherine's friends were anxious for her return 
 whenever the defenders of the people showed symptoms of 
 uneasiness. Sometimes the troubled magistrates wrote to the 
 saint themselves. On one occasion, while she was staying at 
 Montepulciano, they sent her a letter asking her to hasten her 
 return, and saying that she was wanted to settle some dispute. 
 In her reply she exhorts them to be true and manly rulers of 
 the city that belongs to them that is to say, of their own soul ; 
 and likewise of the earthly city confided to their care the 
 State, which they should govern according to the laws and 
 customs of the country. She warns them of the evil of self- 
 seeking, and desires them to beware of servile fear. When a 
 man's conscience is obscured by sin, he knows neither God nor 
 himself. He is not in a position to govern others with justice, 
 to punish the guilty with discrimination, or effectually protect 
 the innocent. And then she continues: "This servile fear 
 and culpable self-seeking it was, my dear brothers, which 
 caused the death of Christ. Pilate was blinded by the fear of 
 losing his power he could not see the truth, and murdered 
 Christ. But not for that did he save himself from what he 
 dreaded ; for when the time came that it pleased God (not that
 
 138 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 God was pleased with his sin), he lost his soul and his body 
 and the signoria. And indeed it appears to me that the world 
 is full of such Pilates, who in their cowardly blindness pursue 
 the servants of God, hurling stones at them, and following them 
 with insults, injurious words, and persecutions." Farther on 
 she says : " Act so that when the account shall be demanded, 
 you may be able to surrender your trust without danger of 
 eternal death. I wish, therefore, that you would regulate your 
 conduct with a true and holy fear. And I must tell you that 
 the men of the world have no possible way of preserving their 
 spiritual goods and their temporal possessions except by leading 
 a virtuous life ; for nothing causes their destruction but their 
 own faults and vices. Remove the evil, and the fear will 
 cease ; and you will then be full of courage and strength, and 
 not afraid of your own shadow. I shall say no more, only beg 
 you to pardon my presumption. The affection I have for you 
 and for all the other citizens, and the grief I feel when I think 
 of your spirit and your acts so little in conformity with the law 
 of God, must plead my excuse to Him and you." And then, 
 referring more particularly to herself and answering their 
 request that she would return to the city, she says : " I must 
 now reply, most dear brothers and signori, to the letter you 
 sent to me by Thomas di Guelfuccio. I thank you for the kind- 
 ness you show your fellow-citizens, and for your anxiety to 
 procure them peace and quiet ; and am grateful for your 
 affection for my unworthy self. I do not deserve that you 
 should hold me in such esteem as to desire my return, or ask 
 me to be the means of procuring this peace, since I am 
 incapable of this or any other, even the least, thing. Neverthe- 
 less, I shall leave all in the hands of God, and will bow my 
 head, and according as the Holy Spirit permit, will obey your 
 orders and do as you wish ; for I must always consult the will 
 of God rather than that of men. At present I do not see how 
 I could leave ; for I have an important matter to settle in the 
 convent of St. Agnese, and I am staying with Messer Spinello's 
 nephews for the purpose of reconciling the sons of Lorenzo. 
 You see, it is now a long time since you began to wish to 
 arrange this matter, and yet nothing has been done. I should 
 be sorry if, through any negligence on my part, or in conse- 
 quence of my abrupt departure, a stop should be put to 
 progress for in that case \ shqujd fear to offend Qod.. ^Mt I
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 139 
 
 shall return as quickly as I can, the very moment the Lord 
 enables me to do so. And now, do you and the rest have 
 patience ; and do not let your mind and heart be filled with 
 these thoughts and fancies, which all proceed from the devil 
 striving to hinder God's glory and the salvation of souls, and 
 to destroy your peace of mind. I am sorry my citizens give 
 themselves so much trouble thinking and talking about me. 
 One would think they had nothing else to do but to speak ill 
 of me and of those who are with me. As far as I am concerned, 
 they are quite right, for I am full of faults ; not so my com- 
 panions. But we shall overcome by bearing all with patience ; 
 for patience is never beaten, but always remains in possession 
 of the field. What afflicts me is that the blow rebounds on 
 the head of those who strike it, so that very often theirs is 
 both the sin and the punishment." 
 
 Even before St. Catherine travelled beyond the boundaries 
 of the republic, her correspondence had become a very im- 
 portant part of her work. Her letters, of which we have 
 nearly four hundred in the volumes before us, are worthy of 
 being treasured not merely as the remains of so remarkable, 
 so gifted, and so saintly a woman, but for their historical 
 interest, their great value as spiritual writings, and their 
 literary excellence. They are considered a model of style, 
 even among the works of an age when the Italian language 
 was in all the freshness and vigour of its youth and prime. 
 It has been said that her diction was as pure as her life was 
 faultless : " Fu non meno pulita nello scrivere, che incon- 
 taminata nel vivere." In form the letters seldom vary, 
 whether addressed to pope?, kings, military commanders, or 
 to her own disciples, relatives, and intimate friends. In- 
 variably they begin in the name of Jesus and of Mary, " Al 
 nome di Gesii Cristo crocifisso e di Maria dolce," and end 
 with the words "Gesu dolce, Gesii amor." There is hardly 
 one of them in which we do not find an eloquent discourse on 
 some particular virtue, a denunciation of some sin or folly, or 
 a practical instruction clearly and forcibly worded. The sub- 
 ject is always applicable to the position in life of the person 
 addressed, to his particular circumstances at the moment, or 
 to the situation of public affairs. The familiar letters con- 
 clude with a friendly remembrance or graceful valediction ; 
 the more important epistles, with a strong word qf counsel, a.n
 
 1 40 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 earnest request, a prayer. Simplicity, conciseness, force, an 
 elegant turn of expression and a harmonious disposition of 
 the words, are the characteristics of the style, and are notice- 
 able even in short sentences. To cite two or three examples : 
 St. Catherine in one place says it is a scandalous thing that 
 the Lord should stand knocking at the door and we do not 
 open to Him : " Grande villanea e che Dio stia alia porta 
 dell' anima tua, e non gli sia aperta." In another place she 
 observes, that the more unbounded our hope is the more 
 munificent will be the providence of God : " Chi piu per- 
 fettamente spera, piu perfettamente gusta la Providenza di 
 Dio." Gratitude, she somewhere says, keeps the fountain of 
 piety full to the brim, while unthankfulness dries up the 
 spring: "La gratitudine nutrica la fonte della pieta nell' 
 anima, la ingratitudine la dissecca." And could there be 
 anything more gracefully expressed than this sentiment : " My 
 soul rejoices and exults in suffering; I do not heed the 
 thorns, for I feel the fragrance of the opening rose " (" L'anima 
 mia nel dolore gode et esulta, perocche tra le spine sente 
 1'odore della rosa che e per aprire ") ? 
 
 St. Catherine's letters were seldom written by her own 
 hand. The more important were generally dictated to the 
 Sienese gentlemen who were her disciples, and were proud to 
 be her clerks and secretaries, and her messengers to Courts and 
 Governments. We are told that she often dictated three or 
 four letters at one time. Can we not fancy the scene? In 
 the centre of the group the saint, with her fragile black-and- 
 white-robed figure, and her delicate face ready to break into that 
 gracious smile which her disciples are always talking of, and by 
 which they knew her when, after her death, they believed they 
 saw her in vision among the saints in glory, Sister Alessia 
 and " Cecca " and Lisa, the personification of friendship and 
 fidelity, always near at hand ; Father Raymond, confessor and 
 disciple, standing on one side; or Father Thomas, the kins- 
 man ; or Father Bartholomew Dominici, so delicate of con- 
 science, so tender of heart; or "Fra Santi," the old hermit, 
 who left his peaceful cell to labour for the good of others, 
 affirming that he found greater tranquillity and more profit to 
 his soul in following Catherine and listening to her than he 
 ever enjoyed in his solitude. And then the young men, pen 
 in hand, waiting to know what the "Cara, dolce, veneranda
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 141 
 
 madre " desires to say to Gregory-or to Urban, to the Queen 
 of Naples or to Charles of Anjou, to the Senator and 
 Bannerets of Rome, to the Lords Priors of the people and 
 commune of Perugia, to the Consuls and Gonfaloniers of 
 Bologna. 
 
 St. Catherine's secretaries form a very interesting group, and 
 were among the most cherished of her disciples. Neri di 
 Landoccio de Pagliaresi, who had been converted by her, was 
 one of the first to leave his father's house and all he possessed 
 to follow the saint. He had asked her to let him be numbered 
 among her sons, and she wrote to him in reply : " I am un- 
 worthy of this, for I am only a poor miserable creature ; but I 
 have received you, and do receive you, with tender affection. 
 I promise before God to be responsible for all the sins you 
 have committed and may yet commit; but I beseech you 
 satisfy my desire, make yourself conformable to Jesus crucified, 
 and separate yourself entirely from the world as I told you 
 for in no other way can we become like to Jesus." From 
 first to last, Neri acted as her secretary, sometimes carrying 
 her messages to the pope and to the Queen of Naples. 
 
 Barduccio Canigiani, of a Florentine family settled in Siena, 
 gave up everything to serve Catherine, by whom, on account 
 of his singular innocence, he was greatly beloved. 
 
 But perhaps there was not one of all the faithful band more 
 devoted to the saint, or more dear to her, than Stefano di 
 Corrado Maconi. He was seldom absent from her side ; and 
 the others, he at least believed, were sometimes a little jealous 
 of her affection for the enthusiastic and indefatigable secretary 
 and disciple. The way in which the friendship began is 
 characteristic of the saint and of the time. A great enmity 
 existed in those days between the Maconi and two other 
 powerful families of the republic, the Rinaldini and the 
 Tolomei. The fault appears not to have been on the side of 
 the Maconi, who were the least powerful party, and were 
 anxious that a reconciliation should be effected, as were also 
 many influential citizens. All negotiations having failed, 
 Stefano, who was leading the ordinary life of a young man of 
 the world at the time, was told of Catherine's extraordinary 
 success in managing affairs of this kind, and it was said to him 
 that if she were asked to undertake the negotiation, peace 
 would certainly be obtained. Accordingly, he went to a
 
 1 4 2 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 gentleman, a friend of his, for whom Catherine had once done 
 a similar good office, and told him what he wanted. The 
 gentleman remarked that there was no one in the city more 
 capable of effecting a reconciliation between enemies than 
 Catherine, and offered to go at once with Stefano to see her. 
 The young man was astonished at the reception he met with 
 from the saint, who attracted and interested him so much 
 that he told her what sort of life he was leading, and at her 
 request promised to go to confession and adopt a more 
 Christian course of conduct. She told him to have great 
 confidence in God, and that she would take the matter in 
 hand and do all she could to procure him a good peace. An 
 appointment was arranged, and the hostile parties were to 
 meet in the church of San Cristofero to be finally reconciled. 
 However, the pride of the Rinaldini and the Tolomei got the 
 better of their good dispositions, and they were resolved not 
 to keep their engagement. Catherine being told of this, 
 simply remarked, " They will not listen to me, but, willingly or 
 unwillingly, they shall have to listen to God." And thereupon 
 she went to the church where she had appointed to meet 
 Stefano, his father Corrado, and other members of the family : 
 went straight to the high altar, and began to offer up there 
 most fervent prayers. Meanwhile the parties who had refused 
 to go to San Cristofero happened to enter, unknown to one 
 another, the church in which St. Catherine was praying and 
 their enemies waiting on her. As soon as they saw the saint 
 in prayer before the altar, with a divine light shining in her 
 countenance, their obduracy melted away ; they addressed her 
 when she had finished her prayer, and begged of her to 
 regulate the conditions of peace between them and the 
 Maconi. Presently the enemies asked pardon of one another, 
 and embracing in token of reconciliation, left the church with 
 tranquil hearts. After this, Stefano went often to visit Cath- 
 erine. Her words and example produced a total revolution in 
 his manner of thinking and in his life. The whole city was 
 astonished at the change, and none was more surprised than 
 he was himself when he found he loathed the things he had 
 formerly desired, and felt the love of God becoming enkindled 
 in his heart. When she asked him to write some letters 
 under her dictation, he gladly assented ; and from that time 
 forth he was one of her most devoted friends, one of her most
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 143 
 
 ardent disciples. He says himself that he studied her words 
 and actions with the greatest attention. He never heard an 
 idle word pass her lips ; and she had a way of instantly turning 
 the most frivolous expressions of those about her to their 
 spiritual good. He and the others were so charmed with her 
 conversation that they often forgot to take their meals. Some- 
 times they would come to her with some secret trouble in their 
 mind ; but the moment they found themselves in her presence 
 they would forget the cause of their uneasiness, and think no 
 more of their pains. Her penetration was so extraordinary 
 that she seemed to know souls as others know faces ; and he 
 one day said to her, "Indeed, mother, it is very dangerous to 
 be near you, for you discover all our secrets." 
 
 Stefano Maconi joined a confraternity attached to the great 
 Hospital della Scala, and took part, with many gentlemen of 
 his acquaintance, in the religious and charitable works of the 
 association, which, under the title of the " Compagnia della 
 Vergine Maria," had been celebrated in Siena almost from the 
 earliest Christian times. The hospital itself was one of the 
 most ancient in Europe, and was supposed to have been built 
 on the site of a temple of Diana. In the lower part of the 
 building the confraternity had a chapel and apartments. It so 
 happened that, soon after Stefano joined the confraternity, the 
 members, who were of the nobili class, began to plot against 
 the government of the hated reformers, used their offices in 
 the hospital as a place of meeting for the malcontents, and 
 drew the young man into the conspiracy. Catherine appears 
 to have supernaturally divined what was going on ; and one 
 day, when Stefano came as usual to visit her, before he had 
 time to utter a word, she rebuked him in the strongest terms 
 for turning the house of God into a den of conspirators against 
 the republic, warned him that he was placing in danger his 
 own soul and body, conjured him to rid himself of the 
 treasonous poison, and assigned him a very severe penance in 
 expiation for his offence. From that hour Stefano had done 
 with plots, and dedicated his life to works of virtue and charity. 
 
 Besides these three secretaries, Neri, Barduccio, and Stefano, 
 there were other friends who gladly rendered the same services 
 to Catherine at different times. But it would be impossible to 
 name all who were on terms of intimacy with her, and stood 
 beside her, ever watchful to help her in her undertakings and
 
 144 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 carry out her wishes. Her disciples formed a very remarkable 
 and varied class, including members of different religious 
 Orders, fathers and mothers of families, young men and women 
 of all ranks. They used to apply to her in every need, and 
 seek her counsel on all occasions. When they could not come 
 to her, they wrote, and the correspondence thus involved must 
 have given the secretaries at times quite enough to do 
 Among the disciples was a certain Cristofano di Gano Guidini, 
 whose mother was one of the Piccolomini. He was introduced 
 to Catherine by Neri di Landoccio, and had an idea of entering 
 a religious Order; but not considering it right to leave his 
 mother, he made up his mind to marry. Catherine not being 
 in Siena at the time he took this resolve, he despatched a 
 messenger to her with a letter, asking her which of three ladies 
 whom he named she would prefer for his wife. It is quite 
 evident from the answer that the saint thought it would have 
 been much better for him to get over the scruple about his 
 mother, and follow the first inspiration he had received. But 
 since the question was settled, she prayed that the hand of 
 the Lord might guide him, and counselled him under every 
 circumstance to keep his eyes fixed on God, seeking always 
 the divine honour and the good of his fellow-creatures. As 
 for choosing a wife for him, she was very reluctant to interfere 
 in such a matter, which was more suited for seculars than for 
 such as she. But as she did not like to refuse his request, she 
 told him that, though all three were good, it would be best for 
 him to take the one that was first named, if he did not feel 
 that her having been married before was an objection, and she 
 prayed that God might greatly bless them both. When he had 
 the saint's answer he was satisfied. He married; and it is 
 on record that he proved a good husband. Having been left 
 after some years a widower, he assumed the habit of the 
 Brotherhood of the Hospital of Santa Maria della Scalla a 
 black soutane and mantle with a hood, having on the left side, 
 as badge, a little bit of yellow silk. He was the first to write 
 about the Blessed Giovanni Colombini, and left memoirs, 
 including an account of St. Catherine, whom he survived a 
 great many years. He expired in the arms of Stefano Maconi, 
 with her name on his lips. 
 
 Andrea di Vanni, one of a race of artists, and himself a 
 painter of eminence, was also among her disciples. We have
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 145 
 
 a letter written to him when he held the highest post in the 
 republic, and was Capitano del Popolo. It makes a picture 
 in itself to fancy Andrea, dressed in the fiery splendour of the 
 commander, all, save the ash-coloured tunic, crimson and 
 gold from cap to shoe, receiving the saint's letter from the 
 hand of one of the other young men, her envoys. In this 
 letter she says she does not see how we can ever govern others 
 properly unless we first learn how to rule ourselves : "Non 
 veggo il modo che noi potessimo ben reggere altrui, se prima 
 non reggiamo noi medesimi." She instructs him how to pre- 
 pare himself for Holy Communion, how to administer justice 
 truly; and lays down rules by which he may keep his 
 own soul and Siena in peace. She earnestly desires to see 
 him an upright governor, and to know that justice is main- 
 tained in " our city." 
 
 Vanni was sent on embassies from the republic to Avignon 
 and to Naples. While in the latter city he painted several 
 pictures. The portrait-picture of the saint, still on the wall of 
 San Domenico, is by the artist-disciple. It is said that he 
 also painted a head of Christ, representing the Saviour as he 
 appeared to St. Catherine in her visions ; but of this work 
 there remains no trace. 
 
 In company with St. Catherine's friends and disciples, Father 
 Raymond used frequently see a young man of noble family, 
 Francesco Malavolti by name, who, having been left indepen- 
 dent of control at an early age by the death of his parents, fell 
 into all kinds of temptations, and though married led a wild 
 life. He used to listen with great attention and admiration to 
 the saint when his young friends brought him to see her, and 
 for a time his conduct would improve ; but afterwards he would 
 fall back again into his old habits. She often prayed for his 
 conversion, and once said to him, " You come to me, and 
 then you fly away ; but one day or another I shall weave you 
 such a net that you can never spread your wings again." In a 
 letter to the unstable youth, she says she writes in the anxious 
 desire of seeing him return to the nest with his companions. 
 She fears that the enemy of God has carried him so far away 
 that he cannot now be brought back. And she, his poor 
 mother, goes about seeking "and calling for him, whom she 
 would willingly take on her shoulders in the sorrow and 
 compassion she has for his soul. " Open, then, most dear 
 10
 
 1 4 6 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 son," she says, "the eyes of your intellect, and free yourself 
 from the darkness that surrounds you. Acknowledge and 
 reflect on your sins, not that you may despair, but that you 
 may know yourself and hope in the goodness of God. Just 
 see what a wealth of grace, received from your Heavenly 
 Father, you have miserably squandered. Do now like that 
 prodigal son who wasted all his substance living riotously, but 
 who, being reduced to necessity, confessed his folly and went 
 to his father to ask forgiveness. Yes, do you also this ; for 
 you are poor and needy, and your soul is famishing with 
 hunger. Run, then, to your Father and sue for mercy ; for 
 He will relieve you, and will not despise your desires founded 
 on sorrow for sins committed, He will even receive you with 
 affection. Alas ! alas ! where have all your good desires 
 flown to ? And how am not I to be pitied to see the demon 
 carrying away your soul and all your noble aspirations ! The 
 world and the slaves of the world have snared and held you in 
 their seductive toils and sinful pleasures. Come, now, hasten 
 and take the remedy : awake, to sleep no more. Bring some 
 comfort to my soul ; and be not so cruel to your own as to 
 tarry in the coming. Let not the devil deceive you by fear or 
 shame. Break the bonds that bind you, and make haste to 
 come, dear son of mine. And truly I may call you dear, 
 considering all the tears and sorrow and infinite bitterness you 
 Have caused me. Yes ; come now home to your nest. All 
 the excuse I can offer to God is that I can do no more. And 
 whether you come or whether you stay, all I ask of you is that 
 you do the will of God." The wild bird tarried long on the 
 way, but flew home at last. 
 
 Those whom Catherine had charmed away from a perverse 
 generation to live unspotted from the world ; those whom she 
 led to clearer heights upon the narrow path they had already 
 chosen, constituted her friends, her disciples, her family. 
 Those are they whom she speaks of when she says to God : 
 " I offer and recommend to Thee my most dear children, for 
 they are my very soul." l She held them for life, for death, 
 and for eternity. The blessed in heaven, she says in the 
 Dialogo, participate in a particular manner in the happiness of 
 those with whom they were most closely united in affection while 
 
 1 " Je vous offre et je recommande mes fils bien-aimes, car ils sont mon 
 ime." Dialogue, v. ii. p. 352 (last).
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT J47 
 
 on earth. Their love made goodness grow in them. They 
 were for one another an occasion of glorifying the name of 
 God in themselves and in their neighbour; and as the affection 
 that united them is not destroyed in heaven, they enjoy it in a 
 fuller measure, and this very love augments their blessedness. 
 
 
 III. 
 
 " Caterina avea in se una forza contro ogni maniera di ostacoli. Voile 
 vincerli e li vinse." 
 
 THE Babylonish exile of the popes in Avignon had lasted 
 more than sixty years, when the desire which Dante had put 
 into terrific words, and Petrarch had with pathetic eloquence 
 expressed, seemed at length about to be accomplished. Pope 
 Urban v., in spite of the determined opposition of Charles of 
 France; in spite of the reluctance of the College of Cardinals 
 French, all but three, in nation ; in spite of his own well- 
 founded apprehensions, resolved to renounce the peaceful 
 splendour of the Court of Avignon, and restore the apostolic 
 seat to Rome all revolutionised and ruined. The cry of the 
 Italian people had been listened to and the counsel of the 
 saints received. . In the month of May 1367, Urban left 
 Avignon ; and in the following October, after receiving a 
 magnificent welcome in Genoa, and tarrying some time in 
 Viterbo, he entered Rome attended by the ambassadors of the 
 Emperor, the King of Hungary, and the Queen of Naples, 
 and surrounded by the princes of the Italian States, the 
 representatives of the free republics, and two thousand bishops, 
 abbots, and churchmen of eminence. The emperors of the 
 East and of the West hastened to Rome to pay respect in 
 person to the restored pontiff. On every side there was 
 rejoicing ; Italy was full of hope ; and before long Urban had 
 regained all the lost territory that had once belonged to the 
 patrimony of St. Peter. Three years, however, had hardly 
 passed away when the great hope which had so nearly reached 
 fulfilment was scattered to the winds. The pope, discouraged 
 by the difficulties that beset his path in Italy, or yielding to 
 the cardinals' importunities, or hoping, as it is believed, to
 
 I 4 8 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 effect a reconciliation between the kings of France and 
 England, who were then at war, made up his mind to forsake 
 Rome and return to inglorious retirement on the banks of the 
 Rhone. The Italians bitterly felt the defection of their head ; 
 the servants of God mourned over the widowed See. Peter of 
 Aragon, the saintly Franciscan who had strenuously counselled 
 the pope's return to Rome, now poured forth remonstrances 
 and threatened the divine displeasure ; and St. Bridget of 
 Sweden raised a warning voice, and announced to Urban that 
 if he left the city of the apostles he should speedily die. The 
 pontiff, though a man of sincere religious feeling, disregarded 
 all these representations. He removed once more the Papal 
 Court into Provence, and in two months' time was dead. 
 
 Immediately the conclave assembled, and the Cardinal of 
 Villanova, a native of France, was elected. The new pontiff, 
 who took the name of Gregory XL, was hardly thirty -six 
 years of age. He was of a peaceful, studious disposition, and 
 had led a pious life even from his earliest days. With 
 unfeigned reluctance he accepted a dignity which the unusual 
 difficulties of the time rendered exceedingly burthensome 
 to one of his mild, conciliatory, but somewhat irresolute 
 character. 
 
 The unscrupulous conduct of the French legates, who were 
 distrusted as foreigners and hated as tyrants, had long kept 
 Italy in a state of disaffection and disturbance ; while the 
 Visconti, lords of Milan, the greatest enemies of the popes in 
 those days, seized on every opportunity to fan disloyalty into 
 revolt. Barnabas Visconti, a man of remarkable talents and a 
 patron of letters, but most of all distinguished for his military 
 capacity, had carried on a war against successive pontiffs 
 with perfidiousness and pertinacity. For armed attacks he 
 was well prepared, and he only laughed at spiritual chastise- 
 ments. Having received information that Urban v. had 
 placed him under the censures of the Church, he met the 
 pope's messengers on the bridge of Lando, and made the 
 legates who carried the Bulls eat the parchment on which 
 they were written, threatening to throw them into the river if 
 they made any delay. He dressed up the ambassadors of the 
 Sovereign Pontiff in white, and led them through the streets to 
 be a laughing-stock to the people ; and told the Archbishop of 
 Milan that Visconti was pope, emperor, and king in his own
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 149 
 
 territory, and that God Himself could not make him do what 
 he was determined not to do. Barnabas and his brother 
 having, in 1372, seized on Reggio and other possessions of the 
 Church, Gregory excommunicated the lord of Milan, who, on 
 hearing the step the pope had taken, avenged himself by 
 treating those who remained faithful to the Sovereign 
 Pontiff with unheard-of indignity and cruelty. His hunting 
 dogs, five thousand in number, were billeted on the monas- 
 teries ; and ecclesiastics who resisted him were torn to pieces 
 by wild horses. 
 
 All other means having proved unavailing, the pope declared 
 war against Visconti, formed a powerful league by the aid of 
 the Emperor, the King of Hungary, and the Queen of 
 Naples, and took into his service the famous condottiere, 
 Sir John Hawkwood, and his well-trained army of mercenaries. 
 The lord of Milan having been defeated, despatched an 
 ambassador to Avignon with instructions to bribe the pope's 
 counsellors ; and, desiring to secure an influential ally, sent a 
 message to Catherine of Siena. In the end, Gregory earnestly 
 desiring peace, a truce was obtained. 
 
 When St. Catherine received Visconti's message, she wrote 
 to the Cardinal of Ostia, urging him to do all that was possible 
 to restore peace to Italy and put a stop to the evils that 
 afflicted the servants of God, begging of him at the same time 
 to represent to the Holy Father that the ruin of souls w r as 
 of much more account than the destruction of cities. To 
 Visconti she writes on the necessity of self-knowledge and on 
 the sin of pride. Even if a man were to possess the whole 
 world, he ought to acknowledge his own nothingness. Death 
 will as surely find him as the meanest of mankind ; the intoxicat- 
 ing joys of the world may forsake him as they do others ; and 
 he, no more than the rest of the race, could prevent life, health, 
 and all earthly treasures disappearing like the wind. She does 
 not think that anyone ought to be called Icrd ; for the most 
 powerful ruler is only a dispenser for a time, and according to 
 the Creator's pleasure, of the good gifts of the Sovereign Lord. 
 Then she speaks of the means of reconciling the sinful soul to 
 God, of the treasure of the blood of Jesus confided to the 
 Church, and of the dignity of the vicar of Christ. A man 
 must be mad, she says, who departs from the Lord's vicegerent, 
 and lifts his hands against him who holds the keys. " I entreat
 
 ISO A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 you," she continues, "to do nothing against our head. Be 
 not surprised if the devil tries to deceive you under false 
 appearances, and incites you to take into your own hands the 
 chastisement of bad pastors. Pay no heed to the tempter, and 
 do not concern yourself with causes that come not under your 
 jurisdiction. Our Lord forbids this. He says these are His 
 anointed ; He will not suffer any creature to exercise a judg- 
 ment He reserves for Himself. How culpable a subordinate 
 would be who would want to take the power of bringing a 
 malefactor to justice out of the hands of the judge. It is no 
 business of his ; it is the judge's part to act in the matter." 
 And in conclusion she says : " Yes ; I must tell you, my very 
 dear father and brother in Christ, that God will not permit you 
 or others to become the chastiser of his ministers. He has 
 reserved to Himself this right, and intrusted it to His vicar ; 
 and if the vicar neglect the duty (he ought to fulfil it, and 
 would do wrong to neglect it), we must humbly await the 
 decision and sentence of the Sovereign Judge, the eternal 
 God. ... I conjure you, in the name of Jesus crucified, to 
 meddle no more in these affairs. Keep your cities in peace, 
 punish your own subjects when they deserve it ; but do not sit 
 in judgment on those who are the ministers of the glorious and 
 precious Blood." 
 
 Siena had been no unconcerned spectator of current events, 
 nor had St. Catherine been less than keenly alive to interests 
 affecting the welfare of Italy, the well-being of Christendom, 
 and the peace of the Church. For the evils that afflicted the 
 Church and the world she saw a remedy in three things, the 
 proclamation of a crusade against the Turks, the reformation 
 of the clergy and the appointment of worthy pastors, the 
 definite return of the pope to Rome. On the question of the 
 crusade, Gregory xi. was of one accord with the saint. Both 
 saw in such an enterprise an occasion of rallying the forces of 
 Christendom for the defence of Europe, protected by no 
 bulwark from the formidable and aggressive power of the 
 Sultan Amurath, save what the ill -defended kingdom of 
 Hungary afforded ; an opportunity of engaging in a worthy 
 cause the restless ambition and warlike impetuosity of kings 
 and nations ; a means of saving the States of Europe from 
 profitless and desolating wars, and preventing the extinction of 
 republics in fratricidal strife. The pope early turned his
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 151 
 
 attention to the organisation of a holy war, and the saint 
 supported him with earnest zeal ; employing her powerful 
 pen in kindling the enthusiasm of princes, commanders, 
 and republics, and upholding in his resolve even the pope 
 himself. 
 
 Gregory wrote to the King of England, the Doge of Venice, 
 and the Count of Flanders, urging them to lend their aid in 
 defending Christendom against the Turks ; ordered Berengario, 
 Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes, to hold Smyrna as a 
 garrison against the infidels ; and commanded a council to be 
 held at Thebes to make the necessary preparations for the 
 crusade. At this council were to appear in person, or 
 represented by their ambassadors, the princes of the East, 
 Leonardo da Tocco, ruler of Lucalia ; Francesco Cantalusio, 
 Prince of Mytilene, and many others who had men and ships 
 capable of serving in the war ; and it was directed that Eleanor, 
 Queen of Cyprus, should intrust the conduct of the military 
 affairs of her kingdom to the Prince of Antioch. The pope, 
 moreover, required the sovereigns to whom he had already 
 written, as well as the Doge of Genoa, the King of Trinacria, 
 the Queen of Naples, and the Prince of Taranto, the so-called 
 Emperor of Constantinople, to attend the council or send their 
 representatives. All appeared to be going on well when a war 
 broke out between Venice and Genoa, and the latter republic 
 sent a fleet to attack Cyprus. The council was thus rendered 
 impossible, and the Turks, emboldened by the delay, assumed 
 a still more threatening attitude. Nevertheless, in 1373, the 
 pope proclaimed the crusade, leaving nothing undone to 
 stimulate the enthusiasm of princes, to induce the faithful to 
 pray for the success of the enterprise, and to obtain money to 
 carry on the necessary preparations. Great exertions were 
 made to procure an efficient naval armament, and Symrna was 
 given for five years to the Knights of Rhodes that they might 
 establish there a centre of communication and be in a position 
 to assist the crusaders. Encyclical letters were sent to the 
 Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem in Bohemia, France, 
 Navarre, England, Portugal, and other countries, urging them 
 in moving terms to take up arms against the infidels. 
 
 The success of the contemplated crusade would, it was 
 believed, greatly depend on the part taken by Joanna, Queen of 
 Naples, who was connected by ties of relationship and friend-
 
 152 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 ship with the Court of France, and could strongly reinforce the 
 armament with ships and men. But it did not appear an easy 
 task to enkindle a noble enthusiasm in that woman's heart. 
 Beautiful and fascinating, the queen loved pleasure more than 
 virtue, and, careless of the welfare of her own subjects, it was 
 hardly to be expected she would evince much zeal for the 
 interests of the Christian world. Her early career had" been 
 more remarkable than edifying. The first of her four 
 husbands, Andrew of Hungary, had been murdered, not 
 without her connivance it was believed ; and his uncle, Louis, 
 having invaded Naples to avenge his death, the queen, who 
 held her kingdom from the pope, repaired to Avignon to 
 defend herself from the accusations that had been brought 
 against her. So effective was her eloquence, and so moved 
 with pity were her auditors at seeing a queen thus obliged to 
 undertake her own defence, that she obtained all she desired. 
 Clement vi., with the consent of Louis, restored her kingdom 
 to her. At the same time the sovereignty of Avignon, which 
 belonged to Joanna, was made over to the pope, and a certain 
 sort of independence thus secured to the exiled pontiffs. 
 
 To leave nothing undone at this crisis, Catherine of Siena, 
 in a letter to the queen, said that she had great pleasure in 
 announcing to her that the pope had sent a Bull to the Minister 
 of the Minorites, the Provincial of the Friars Preachers of San 
 Domenico, and to another of the Order, commanding them to 
 unite under the standard of the Cross all who were willing to 
 lay down their life for Christ and take arms against the infidels ; 
 and entreated, nay, even constrained, her to manifest a holy 
 zeal for the undertaking. Joanna having returned a favourable 
 answer, signifying her readiness to do the pope's pleasure, 
 Catherine wrote again, expressing her delight at having this 
 assurance, reminding Joanna that, as she enjoyed the title of 
 Queen of Jerusalem, it was only fitting that she should take a 
 leading part in the present expedition, and adding that this 
 was the time to show herself a faithful daughter of the Church. 
 The Holy Father is anxious to know what the queen intends to 
 do, and Catherine begs of her to write to the pope expressing 
 her desire, and asking his permission, to undertake the crusade, 
 for if she declare herself and take the initiative a great number 
 will follow her example. 
 
 To the Queen of Hungary, mother of Louis the Great, the
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 153 
 
 reigning King of Hungary and Poland, who was called the 
 Gonfaloniere of the Holy Cross, Catherine wrote in a strain of 
 more tender eloquence. She says, we ought all to hasten like 
 ardent lovers to rescue the Church in the hour of her distress. 
 " It is therefore necessary," she continues, " that you and I 
 and every creature should love and serve her on all occasions, 
 but especially in time of need. I, wretched creature that I am, 
 have not wherewithal to give her help ; but if it would do her 
 any service to shed my blood for her, she should willingly have 
 it to the last drop. But this I will do : I will give the little 
 that God had bestowed on me, though I have nothing to offer 
 her but tears, and sighs, and ceaseless prayers. But you, my 
 mother, and the lord master, the king your son, can aid her not 
 merely by prayers and holy desires, you can freely, and for 
 love's sake, lend her temporal assistance also. Do not, for the 
 love of God, neglect this opportunity." And then the saint 
 begs the queen to urge her son to listen favourably, and offer 
 his services in case the Holy Father should ask him to take 
 the command of the expedition. The Turks are making in- 
 roads on the Christian territory every day, and it is a scandalous 
 thing that the infidels should be in possession of places that 
 belong to us by every right and title. If one of the queen's 
 cities were taken from her, assuredly she would put forth all 
 her strength, and fight to the death to get back her own pos- 
 sessions. Should we not strive now with greater solicitude, 
 considering the souls that are at stake and the place that is in 
 question ? Catherine goes on to say that she has written to 
 the Queen of Naples, and to several other sovereigns, and that 
 they have answered favourably, and promised aid in men and 
 money. She hopes in the goodness of God that the standard 
 of the holy Cross will be soon unfurled, and she entreats the 
 Queen of Hungary to follow the example of the other princes. 
 In the meantime it became impossible for Catherine to 
 remain undisturbed in her own city, or to limit her charitable 
 visitations to places within the confines of the Sienese territory. 
 Her name was now well known throughout Italy, and especially 
 in the other cities of Tuscany, whose inhabitants, becoming 
 very anxious to see her, soon found out that there were many 
 ways in which the Saint of Siena could befriend them also. 
 Her first journey of importance appears to have been under- 
 taken in 1374, when she went to Florence in obedience to the
 
 154 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 command of the General of the Dominicans at the time the 
 chapter of the Friar Preachers was being held in that city. 1 
 While there she added to the number of her friends the Arch- 
 bishop Angelo da Ricasoli, Nicolo Soderini, one of the most 
 influential of the citizens, and Buoncorso di Lapo, whom she 
 had probably become acquainted with when, shortly before, 
 he had gone to Siena to effect a reconciliation between the 
 Salembeni and the popular government. 
 
 The citizens of Pisa now sent pressing invitations to Catherine 
 to visit their city ; and Pietro Giambacorti, a rich merchant and 
 head of the democratic party, then supreme in the republic, 
 \vas urgent in his request that she would comply with their 
 desires. She did not like journeys ; and on this occasion she 
 seemed to fear that scandal might arise in the event of her 
 visit to the seaboard city, as the best understanding did not 
 exist at the time between Giambacorti and the governors of 
 Siena. In answer to a letter, in which he begged of her to 
 consider the good she could do by coming, and the earnest 
 wish of the nuns of a certain convent to see her, she said, 
 among other things : " I received your letter with affectionate 
 welcome ; whence I see clearly that it is not any merit or 
 goodness on my part (for I am sinful and wretched enough), 
 but only your own charity and the goodness of those pious 
 ladies, which induce you with such great humility to write and 
 ask me to visit you. I would willingly comply with your desire 
 and theirs, but just at this moment I must entreat you to hold 
 me excused. My health is not strong enough for such an 
 undertaking, and, besides, I see that it might give rise to 
 scandal at present. But I trust in the goodness of God that, 
 if it should be for His glory and the good of souls, I may 
 be permitted to take the journey some future day, when I may 
 
 1 Three of St. Catherine's brothers were then settled in Florence. The 
 family had been reduced from its prosperous condition owing to the injury 
 trade had sustained in consequence of the workmen engaged in the woollen 
 manufacture having revolted against their employers. Jacopo Benincasa, 
 shortly before this migration, died a most happy death, affectionately 
 attended by Catherine, who, not being able to endure the thought of the 
 father, who had brought her up with such care and been so good to her, 
 passing through purgatory, besought the Lord to suffer the divine justice to 
 be satisfied in her. She believed that her prayer was heard, and joyfully 
 bore a new and acute pain from that hour to her death. After some years 
 her mother, Lapa, received the habit of the Sisters of Penance, and liter- 
 ally became a disciple of her daughter.
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 155 
 
 do so with an easy mind and without causing complaints of 
 any kind; and then indeed I shall be ready to obey the com- 
 mands of the Supreme Truth and to do your bidding. Remain 
 in the holy presence of God, and may Jesus reward you with 
 His precious grace. Remember me lovingly to those good 
 ladies, and tell them to pray for me to God that He may make 
 me truly humble and in all things submissive to the will of my 
 Creator." 
 
 However, the nuns, the citizens, and Giambacorti finally 
 gained their point. In the month of April 1375, the plague 
 having ceased in Siena, Catherine, though broken down by her 
 severe penances and the sufferings she had endured in her 
 attendance on the sick and dying, set out for Pisa. Father 
 Thomas, Father Raymond, Father Bartholomew Dominici went 
 with her to hear the confessions of the people, who would be 
 sure to crowd round the saint. She was also accompanied by 
 her mother, Alessia, Francesca, Giovanna Pazza, and probably 
 by other sisters. The archbishop, the mantellate of the city, 
 Giambacorti and all his family, went to welcome her on her 
 arrival ; and immediately she was visited by persons of eminent 
 sanctity and religious of various Orders, who wished to converse 
 with her on spiritual subjects. During her stay in Pisa, from 
 April to September, she and her companions were the guests 
 of Gerardo Buonconti, a man of great influence, and particu- 
 larly devoted to the saint. The house in which he so hospit- 
 ably received the Sienese visitors is still to be seen near the 
 church of St. Cristina, and the room once occupied by the 
 saint is shown. Three of Buonconti's sons became her dis- 
 ciples, and held themselves in readiness to take the cross as 
 soon as the crusade should be organised. Gerardo himself 
 appears to have sometimes acted as secretary to his venerated 
 guest, for a letter, written by her to a monk in the monastery of 
 Belriguardo near Siena, concludes in these words : " That un- 
 worthy man, Gerardo, and Frate Raimondo, his father, desire 
 to be remembered to you." 
 
 Father Raymond and Buonconti were very anxious about 
 Catherine, whose strength became even more than usually 
 enfeebled during her stay in Pisa, and they used to consult 
 together as to what remedy could best be applied. Father 
 Raymond remembered having once heard that people subject 
 to fainting fits had been relieved by having the wrists and temples
 
 i 5 6 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 bathed in Veruaccia wine ; and he proposed to Girdrdo to try 
 this remedy, since, owing to their patient's dislike to wine, eggs, 
 meat, and such nourishment, it was of no use to prescribe a 
 generous regimen. The kindly host had none of this wine in 
 his cellar, and a neighbour who was applied to, and who would 
 have given a cask of it with all his heart for such a purpose, 
 found his supply exhausted. The wine was in the end supplied 
 in a very extraordinary manner, greatly to Catherine's confusion, 
 as it attracted the attention of the citizens in a way that was 
 particularly distasteful to her. We are not told what effect the 
 prescription had, nor whether it was after its application that 
 her friends and disciples became greatly alarmed lest they 
 should lose her. Father Raymond called them all around her, 
 and with tears they besought Almighty God to spare them yet 
 awhile their beloved mother and mistress, and not leave them 
 orphans amidst the tempests of the world before they were 
 strengthened in virtue. Distrusting the efficacy of their own 
 prayers, they besought Catherine to pray that God would hear 
 them for the sake of their salvation. But she, not seeing the 
 case in this light, would only pray that the Lord would do 
 what was for the best. This made them more sorrowful than 
 ever. However, before long their humble prayers were heard, 
 and their mother was restored to her usual, though by no 
 means robu-t, condition. 
 
 It was while praying one Sunday after Holy Communion 
 in the church of St. Cristina, that Catherine received the stig- 
 mata the wounds being perceptible by the pain, but not 
 visible to the eye. The spot where the saint knelt is 
 marked by a little column near a small altar. The crucifix 
 before which she was praying at the moment is now in 
 Siena, having been sent as a pledge of peace to that city from 
 Pisa. 
 
 Catherine's confessors, as had been anticipated, were fully 
 engaged by the people who came to see and be instructed by 
 her. Cardinal Giovanni di Domenico, Bishop of Ragusa, who 
 was in Pisa at that time, says, in a letter afterwards written to 
 his mother, that he saw Catherine speaking to certain sinners, 
 and her instructions were so profound, and her eloquence so 
 full of strength and ardour, that the most wicked men were 
 converted. The monks of the Carthusian monastery in the 
 island of Gorgone, not far from Pisa, hearing so much of the saint,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 157 
 
 became extremely anxious to see her ; and the prior, Dom Bar- 
 tolomeo di Ravenna, who regarded her with the highest esteem 
 and affection, often pressed her to spend a day in the rugged 
 little island which belonged to the Order, and asked Father 
 Raymond to support his petition. Catherine consented, and, 
 accompanied by about twenty of her friends, crossed over to 
 the island, where the prior had a lodging prepared for them 
 at some distance from the monastery. The party arrived at 
 night ; and next morning, the monks having been introduced 
 to Catherine, she was requested to speak some words to them. 
 In vain she endeavoured to excuse herself, believing that it 
 ought to be her part to listen to the religious instead of trying 
 to instruct them. She had, however, to grant the prayer of 
 the prior; and in doing so she spoke with such knowledge 
 and feeling, on the duties of those who lead a solitary life, and 
 on the temptations with which the devil assails them, that all, 
 even Father Raymond who knew her so well, remained in un- 
 speakable amazement. One of the most eloquent of the saint's 
 discourses, the subject being perseverance unto death, is to be 
 found in a letter written to a Florentine gentleman of rank 
 who had become a monk in that monastery. 
 
 Pisa was at that time a good centre of communication with 
 the Christian world, East and West, and St. Catherine took 
 advantage of her stay in the beautiful seaside city to bring her 
 influence to bear on the important subject of the crusade. 
 Just then arrived the ambassador of the Queen of Cyprus, who 
 put into Pisa and awaited a favourable wind to sail for France, 
 whither he was going to seek an interview with the pope. The 
 saint's zeal for the enterprise was not cooled by the touching 
 picture the envoy drew of the Christian isle, with an infant king, 
 and a weak woman as regent, exposed to the attacks of the 
 infidels bent on its conquest. Though the pope had confided 
 the queen to the protection of the Knights of Rhodes, the 
 danger became so imminent from day to day that Eleanor 
 pressed with eloquent appeal for the succour which a general 
 crusade would afford. Catherine, writing to her friends in 
 Siena, tells them that there is a better prospect now for the 
 crusade ; says that she has been speaking to the ambassador of 
 the Queen of Cyprus, and mentions that the Holy Father had 
 meanwhile sent to Genoa to treat of the same affair. She 
 wrote at the same time to Florence, urging Nicolo Soderini to
 
 158 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 be ready himself, and to engage as many others as he could to 
 take part in th-e holy war. 
 
 Among the dangerous elements which the saint wished to 
 see engaged in the crusade, and thus diverted into a safe 
 channel, were the companies of mercenaries, with their con- 
 dotfieri, or hired captains, who ravaged Italy in every direction, 
 either as unscrupulous troops in the pay of some chief or State, 
 or as desperate adventurers, plundering and massacring on 
 their own account. These troops were of different nations 
 German, English, Breton, French. The most famous among 
 them were the English and Breton soldiers, commanded by 
 Sir John Hawkwood, called by the Italians, Count Aguto, the 
 same whose monument, in the form of a memorial picture, even 
 now attracts the attention of English travellers visiting the 
 cathedral of Florence. Hawkwood was an able captain ; and 
 his soldiers, trained in the wars between France and England, 
 were a highly-disciplined and formidable band. Anxious to 
 free Italy from the scourge of their presence, and to turn their 
 military talents to the service of the good cause, Catherine 
 wrote to Hawkwood and his companions, sending Father 
 Raymond at the same time to the redoubtable condottiere to 
 back up her appeal with his own personal influence. She begs 
 Count Aguto to reflect for a moment, and to consider all the 
 pains and hardships he has suffered while in the service and 
 pay of the devil ; and tells him that she anxiously desires he 
 would change his course, and, with all his followers and com- 
 panions in arms, enter the service and shoulder the cross of 
 Christ, now that the pope has proclaimed a crusade against 
 the infidels. War between Christians is often sinful ; at best 
 it is but a lamentable necessity. It is hardly credible that the 
 children of the one only Church should pursue one another as 
 it is the custom now to do But since they take such a delight 
 in fighting, let them follow their inclinations in a way that will 
 be profitable to their own and other people's souls. They 
 promised to follow the Son of God unto death, and yet they 
 go on fighting against Christ, thrusting their swords into the 
 breast of His own children, and forgetting that a severe 
 account will be required of the blood shed to no good 
 purpose. 
 
 The saint's entreaty produced its effect. Hawkwood and 
 all the caporalioi his company promised Father Raymond, and
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 159 
 
 confirmed their promise with an oath, that they would turn 
 their arms against the infidels as soon as the expedition should 
 be set on foot ; and, not content with this, they sent Catherine 
 a paper to the same effect, and signed with their own hand in 
 testimony of their good faith. She also wrote to other 
 companies that were being organised in Tuscany, and particu- 
 larly to the count, the son of Monna Agnola, who was already 
 preparing a troop for the expedition. This letter is remarkable 
 for its chivalrous tone, the subject being the battlefield of this 
 darksome life, wherein we can never close our eyes without 
 danger of death, nor lay down our arms without certainty of 
 destruction. But what need we fear how can we fear when 
 Christ is our Captain, and our hope is fixed on the Creator of 
 the world ! Let us put away all fear, generously waging war 
 and following the standard of the most holy Cross, taking in 
 hand the two-edged sword of love and hate wherewith to 
 overcome our foes. This is the combat that every one born 
 into the world must sustain ; this is the field into which all 
 must descend who have attained the use of reason. We are 
 chosen by the ineffable goodness of God to fight like true 
 soldiers against vice and sin, and gain the riches and the 
 recompense of virtue. The Holy Father has called out the 
 Knights of Rhodes (whose isle was threatened by the Turks) 
 and all who are willing to follow them. Let the count go at 
 once and speak to Don Juan Fernandez (the Grand Master), 
 and do what God, through his advice, will show him. " Have 
 no fear, then, dear sons; put on the breastplate of the 
 Precious Blood, and let our blood flow forth with the blood of 
 the Lamb. Oh ! how shall not this goodly coat of mail hold 
 us safe from every hurt. You will strike with the sword of love 
 and hate, and lay prostrate all your foes ; and from this strong 
 armour every thrust will glance away. Think, my sons, how 
 wonderful this armour is, which conquers when it is touched, 
 and wounds the arm that strikes it ! It is a quiver full of 
 arrows, with unseen darts inflicting real wounds. But from each 
 wound it gives, flowers and fruit spring up, flowers that bloom 
 to the praise and glory of the name of God, and with their 
 fragrance overcome the stench of unbelief. And after the 
 flowers will come the fruit, when we shall receive the re- 
 compense of all our toil, the increase of grace in this our 
 earthly life, the eternal vision of the Lord hereafter. No more 

 
 160 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 negligence, then, but boundless zeal ; lose not the harvest for 
 the cost of a little labour for in no other way can you show 
 yourselves brave and noble knights. Therefore, I have told 
 you that what I wish is to see you like true soldiers posted on 
 the battlefield. Grant my prayer, I beseech you; fulfil the 
 will of God, and my desire ; let the blood of Jesus crucified 
 inundate and inebriate your soul, for it is in this blood the 
 heart is strengthened." 
 
 To the Judge of Arborca, who was virtually the ruler of the 
 island of Sardinia, Catherine sent one of her disciples, Frate 
 Jacopo. The mission was successful, for the judge promised 
 to send to the war, as his contingent for ten years, two galleys, 
 a thousand mounted horse, three thousand foot-soldiers, and 
 six hundred cross-bowmen. Catherine, announcing this to one 
 of her friends, Father William of England, 1 adds that the Judge 
 of Arborca wrote most graciously to her, and said he would 
 himself go to the war. In the same letter she mentions that 
 Genoa takes the matter to heart and offers money and men. 
 Still further to aid the cause, she sent Father Raymond and 
 Don Giovanni della Celle, monk of Valambrosa, to different 
 cities of Italy to kindle the holy flame, proclaiming the crusade 
 in the pope's name and her own. To others as well as to the 
 saint it now appeared there was good ground for hope. Party 
 strife began in some degree to subside, and preparations 
 were being seriously made throughout Italy for the expedition 
 to the East. But again enthusiasm was quenched in blood- 
 shed, and the high hopes that had been cherished sank in 
 disappointment. 
 
 One day Father Raymond, overwhelmed with affliction, 
 came to Catherine to tell her that Perugia had broken out into 
 rebellion against the pope, having been instigated thereto by 
 Florence, which was rapidly setting all Tuscany and the States 
 of the Church in a flame. Considering the terrible evils that 
 were now certain to ensue, and foreseeing the interruption of 
 their cherished enterprise, the frate's eyes filled with tears. 
 But Catherine, turning to him, said, " Do not weep now, for 
 
 1 Frate Guglielmo Flete (Fleetwood ?), of the convent of the Order of 
 the Hermits of St. Augustine at Lecceto, about three miles from Siena. 
 Catherine often visited the convent. Father William's life was wonder- 
 fully silent and austere, and he was held in great reverence by the people. 
 He was an ardent disciple of the saint, who wrote him several letters,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT i6t 
 
 there will be much worse things to lament over by and by. 
 What you see is but a speck in comparison with what is yet 
 to come." Father Raymond thought nothing could be worse 
 than to see people losing all love and reverence for the Church 
 and despising the papal censures. "This is the sin of lay- 
 men," she replied, " but before long you will see the clergy 
 doing something much worse. The Holy Church will be the 
 scene of a great scandal, when a strong hand shall undertake 
 to carry reform into the priesthood. I do not speak of heresy, 
 but of a great schism in the Christian world. Be well prepared 
 with patience, for you yourself shall see these things." All 
 that she now could do was to use her utmost efforts to keep 
 the cities where she had influence in obedience to the pope. 
 She had gone shortly before, by command of his Holiness, from 
 Pisa to Lucca, where she had been warmly welcomed by the 
 people and hospitably received by Bartolomeo Balbani. As 
 usual, she made many friends and increased the number of her 
 disciples during her stay in that free city. She now took 
 advantage of what she had thus gained, and wrote in urgent 
 terms to the Ancients and the Gonfaloniere of Lucca, entreat- 
 ing them not to join in the league against the common Father 
 of the Faithful. At the same time she wrote to Gregory, 
 beseeching him to send to the citizens of Lucca and Pisa some 
 words of paternal kindness and encouragement, and to invite 
 them to remain firm and faithful. She has herself, she says, 
 remained up to the last moment in these cities, doing all in her 
 power to persuade them not to league with the guilty subjects 
 who had revolted against his Holiness. But they are placed in 
 a position of great perplexity. They have received no assist- 
 ance from the Holy Father, whose enemies beset and threaten 
 them on all sides. She also begs the pope to write still more 
 pressingly to Messer Pietro Gambacorta, and to do so in 
 affectionate terms and without delay. "Be not afraid, O 
 Father," she writes, " of the storm that has burst forth and of 
 the unnatural children who have revolted against you. Fear 
 nothing, for the assistance of God is at hand. Keep a vigilant 
 eye on spiritual things. Give good bishops and governors 
 to your cities, for bad pastors and bad rulers were the cause 
 of this revolt. Apply the remedy without delay. Trust in 
 Jesus Christ and proceed without fear. Carry out the holy 
 resolutions you have taken return to Rome and set on foot a 
 ii
 
 162 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 glorious crusade. Delay no longer, your delays have already- 
 done much harm. I implore you," she adds, " to invite the 
 rebels to a holy peace ; so that all their warlike ardour may 
 be turned against the infidels. I trust that God in His infinite 
 goodness will grant you speedy success. Courage, then, . 
 courage ! Yes, come, and console the poor servants of God, 
 your children. We are expecting you with an ardent and 
 affectionate desire. Forgive me, O my Father, all that I have 
 said. You know it is out of the abundance of the heart the 
 mouth speaketh." 
 
 At last Catherine, whose stay in Pisa had been prolonged 
 by the reluctance of the archbishop to allow her to depart, was 
 able to return to her own city. In the autumn of 1375 she 
 and her family of friends and disciples were at home again, not 
 far from Fronte Branda, and within sight of San Domenico 
 planted on the hill. For a little space, possibly, the thunder- 
 clouds rolling over Italy sent only a distant echo into that 
 hollow between the cathedral and convent-crowned heights. 
 But Catherine had brought enough home in her heart from 
 that convulsed and suffering world outside enough to render 
 still more insatiable her desire of suffering in sympathy with 
 God's servants and in expiation for the sins of faithless men 
 enough to make every pulsation of life a breathing prayer. 
 We are told that she spent at this time nearly the whole day 
 in prayer; her only repose being the little she allowed herself 
 when she went into the fields to enjoy the poetry of nature, of 
 which we hear she was so fond, or with her companions sang 
 canzoni in praise of the Mother of God. " Poetry and music," 
 the author of the Storia remarks, " consort well with religion ; 
 and Catherine followed in this the holy traditions not only of 
 the Dominican Order, in which from the very beginning the 
 arts were held in honour, but of the Third Order itself. For 
 the learned Padre Marchese, speaking of the Third Order of 
 the Dominicans (whose greatest glory is undoubtedly the 
 Virgin of Siena), says that in it, as well as among the Friar 
 Preachers, all the fine arts were held in great love and 
 veneration." 
 
 Meanwhile the state of things progressed from bad to worse 
 at Florence. To the imprudence and tyrannical disposition of 
 the French legates, as already noted, was attributed the origin 
 of the dreadful war that had now broken out. Shortly before
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 163 
 
 this a rumour had spread through Italy that the papal legates, 
 and even the pope himself, had determined to destroy the 
 liberty of the Tuscan States. Florence was speedily in a 
 ferment, and Visconti improved the occasion. The legate of 
 Perugia was believed to have lent his aid to the Salembeni in 
 their opposition to the popular party in Siena, and was there- 
 fore suspected of ambitious designs against that republic. But 
 the chief blame justly falls on the Cardinal of St. Angelo, 
 Guglielmo Noelletti, legate of Bologna. Either to gratify an 
 ill-feeling towards the Florentine republic, or to preserve his 
 own territory from all danger of scarcity, he refused to allow 
 the exportation of grain from the States of the Church. The 
 Florentines, suffering greatly from the famine that had succeeded 
 the pestilence, pressingly asked permission to import corn from 
 the neighbouring territory. The legate sent a refusal to their 
 demand. About the same time Sir John Hawkwood, who had 
 been with his company in the service of the pope during the 
 war with Visconti, had, in consequence of the truce, been dis- 
 banded by Noelletti. The latter capped his refusal of the corn 
 by intimating to the Florentines, that if the condottiere entered 
 the republican territory the cardinal could not prevent him. 
 This warning the citizens received as a mockery of their 
 distress ; and when the adventurers pursued their devastating 
 march and approached the very gates of Florence, the rage of 
 the people knew no bounds, they saw in this nothing but a 
 concerted measure between Hawkwood and the cardinal legate. 
 Gregory xi. having received intelligence of these events, sent 
 letters, to be forwarded from Florence, ordering the legate of 
 Bologna to supply the corn required by the citizens. But the 
 cardinal refused to change his course. He would not even read 
 the pontifical Bulls. 
 
 Forthwith the Florentine Government began to prepare for 
 defence and aggression. A new magistracy was created for the 
 occasion, in the form of a commission of eight citizens charged 
 with the conduct of the war. They were called the Otto del/a 
 Guerra the Eight of War ; and they soon showed they had 
 been well selected for the work. Not only did they lash the 
 fury of the citizens to the utmost, but they took measures to 
 kindle the revolutionary flame elsewhere. They sent bands 
 through the cities of Italy, carrying a red flag on which the 
 word "Libertas" was embroidered in letters of gold. The,
 
 1 64 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 populations were to take notice that the Florentines did not 
 want to interfere with the liberties of any State their only wish 
 was to set all free from the yoke of foreigners. Secret agents 
 were despatched at the same time to stir up rebellion in the 
 papal cities ; and with such success were their efforts attended 
 that, before the end of the year 1375, eighty cities and fortified 
 places, including Viterbo, Monte Fiascone, Perugia, and Assisi, 
 had joined the republicans, into whose service was now taken 
 the redoubtable condottiere, Sir John Hawkvvood. 
 
 Another commission was appointed to regulate the internal 
 affairs of the republic, to stir up the people, regulate public 
 worship, appoint to ecclesiastical benefices, secularise Church 
 property, and so on. This commission, like the other, was 
 composed of eight members. They were determined Ghibelines, 
 and such were the excesses and sacrileges they committed that 
 the people, with grim humour, called them the Eight Saints. 
 The prior of the Carthusians, who was then apostolic nuncio, 
 was seized, his flesh was cut in pieces and thrown to the dogs, 
 in the presence of the shouting multitude, who finished the 
 day's work by burying their victim before he had ceased to 
 breathe. 
 
 When the intelligence of these atrocious proceedings was 
 brought to St. Catherine, she exerted all her influence to prevent 
 the Ghibeline party prevailing at that crisis in Siena ; and know- 
 ing that the French cardinals, by whom the pope was surrounded, 
 would counsel the most rigorous measures in regard to the 
 undutiful Florentines, she wrote letters to Gregory XL inclining 
 him to mercy, and entreating him to consider at this moment 
 not so much the necessity of regaining the possessions which 
 the Church had lost, as the duty of recovering the stray sheep 
 a treasure which sadly impoverishes the Church in the losing. 
 The arms of benignity, charity, and peace would effect much 
 more than weapons of war, and would be sure in the end to 
 regain temporal territory and spiritual possessions. The 
 patrimony of the poor is spent on soldiers who devour the 
 blood and life of men. And this war is a great obstacle to the 
 desire of his Holiness to carry out the reform of the Church, 
 by giving her good pastors for her government. At such times 
 as these, when it appears of importance to conciliate princes 
 and great men, bishops are sometimes appointed according to 
 the ideas of these magnates, and not according to the pope's
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 165 
 
 own judgment. And a great evil it is to give, from whatever 
 motive, to the Church, pastors who seek their own selfish ends 
 and not the honour and glory of God's name. Bad pastors are 
 destroying the people of God instead of converting them ; they 
 see wolves carrying off the sheep and appear to give themselves 
 no concern, so intent are they on seeking their own pleasures, 
 and courting the honours and favours of the world. The pope 
 himself is like a lamb in the midst of wolves, and he must not 
 be surprised if he should have to encounter great obstacles ; if 
 all human succour should fail him ; and if those who ought to 
 assist, turn and conspire against him. But let the Holy Father 
 hold fast to his good and holy desire of returning to Rome, 
 realise his project, and carry on the crusade against the Turks 
 who are now invading the Church's possessions. 
 
 The saint beseeches the pope to pardon her presumption for 
 speaking in this wise. But if she followed her own desire, she 
 would continue speaking as long as she had a breath of life left. 
 She could say much more by word of mouth than by letter, and 
 she thinks it would be a great comfort to her soul if she could 
 do so. She begs the pope to admit the bearer of this letter to 
 an audience, to give full credence to his words, and to grant 
 what he asks. And if the Holy Father have any secret matter 
 to communicate to her, the message may with all safety be in- 
 trusted to him. The envoy thus accredited was Neri di Lan- 
 doccio, who was sent from Siena to carry Catherine's letter to 
 the pope at Avignon. 
 
 By this time an army had been got ready to support the 
 papal cause in Italy, including in its ranks a company of Breton 
 mercenaries, who having been asked whether they were hardy 
 enough to enter Florence, replied that if the sun penetrated 
 there, so should they. But Gregory, who naturally inclined to 
 peace, listened favourably to the earnest and eloquent entreaties 
 of the saint, whom he held in high esteem. In the begin- 
 ning of 1376 he sent envoys to Florence with conditions of 
 peace easy of acceptance. The well-disposed citizens, acknow- 
 ledging that the terms were better than could have been ex- 
 pected, were satisfied to accept them. Not so the Eight of 
 War. While the ambassadors were engaged in completing the 
 treaty of peace, Count Antonio di Bruscoli was ordered by the 
 Eight to enter Bologna and incite the inhabitants to rebel. 
 This he did with such success that the papal troops were
 
 1 66 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 driven out of the city, and the cardinal legate was taken 
 prisoner. Such treachery was likely to prove too much even 
 for Gregory's patience ; and Catherine was deeply afflicted 
 when she heard what had occurred. She sent to her friends in 
 Florence entreating them to leave nothing undone to re- 
 establish union with the Church ; she saw no other way of 
 saving the republic and all Tuscany. Surely, she said, war 
 was not such a pleasant pastime that they should want to have 
 it when it could be avoided. The preacher of the Friar Minors 
 went to them on her part, and they would do well, she said, 
 to listen to what he had to say concerning themselves and their 
 city. The result of this embassy was that the Florentines 
 deputed Father Raymond to go to the pope ; and Catherine 
 sent by him a letter supplicating his Holiness not to refuse to 
 grant peace on account of what had happened in Bologna. 
 
 Gregory, consenting to suspend hostilities, cited the 
 Gonfalonier and the other representatives of the republic 
 to appear in person before him to answer for their conduct. 
 A month's delay was accorded. If they did not present them- 
 selves within that time, on the 3151 March sentence of excom- 
 munication should be pronounced against them. The war party, 
 not deeming it prudent to oppose the more peacefully inclined 
 citizens, sent to Avignon Alessandro dell' Antella, Domenico 
 di Salvestro, and Donato Barbadori. The ambassadors were 
 admitted to a public audience, and on the very day that 
 excommunication should otherwise have been pronounced 
 against them, they stood in the presence of the pope. 
 Barbadori, whose oratory was in high repute, spoke for all. 
 His address was a burst of impassioned eloquence. But 
 instead of seeking to excuse the conduct of the Florentines, he 
 denounced the French legates as the cause of the war, forgot 
 all prudence in the heat of patriotic ardour, and called on God 
 to judge between the two. The speaker's voice, his impetuous 
 flow of words, the deep feeling that prompted his expressions, 
 produced a profound impression, and many of the audience 
 were melted even to tears. Less oratorical was the pope's 
 discourse. His words were pronounced with greater calmness. 
 He would not at that moment give judgment he would consult 
 the cardinals. 
 
 The Italian members of the Sacred College advised the 
 adoption of conciliatory measures. The French cardinals,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 167 
 
 immensely in the majority, were all for war the army should 
 be despatched forthwith ; the excommunication should be 
 pronounced ; if Barbadori's audacity were to be answered with 
 proposals of peace, the pope would soon be left without a 
 foot of land in Italy. A few days after the delivering of the 
 ambassador's ill-judged oration, and while the question of war 
 or peace still remained under discussion, the very worst news 
 from Bologna reached Avignon. Now, assuredly, the time for 
 justice had come ! The cardinals were assembled ; the ambas- 
 sadors were commanded to appear. The awful sentence of the 
 pope was read the Florentines were excommunicated, and 
 their city was placed under an interdict. Barbadori, excited 
 by intense passion, burst into tears, threw himself at the foot 
 of a crucifix that was in the hall, and, raising his voice so that 
 all might hear, called upon God to defend the republic against 
 the cruel anathemas fulminated against her, and appealed to 
 the Judge of the living and the dead from the sentence pro- 
 nounced that day. So saying he departed, leaving the assembly 
 overwhelmed with astonishment. 
 
 Thus at last broke the thunder-cloud over Florence. The 
 citizens saw in the pope's sentence the destruction of their 
 prosperity, the ruin of their trade. They were now thoroughly 
 alarmed, and the peace party began to gain strength. The 
 Eight of War, who, since the return of the ambassadors, had 
 committed greater excesses than ever, were obliged to yield to 
 the pressure of opinion, and seek in this extremity an inter- 
 cessor with the pope. They remembered Catherine of Siena. 
 A deputation from the Eight of War and the Priors of the Arts, 
 in whose hands the government was placed, went to Siena to 
 ask her to be a peacemaker between the republic and the 
 pope, and to repair without delay to Florence. She went at 
 once. The magistrates of the city came out to meet her; and 
 her friend Nicolo Soderini, now one of the priors, with great 
 joy received her into his house, and placed her in communica- 
 tion with the Eight of War and the principal citizens. A most 
 difficult task she had to undertake in striving to bring the 
 factions that divided the State to something like unanimity. 
 Again she wrote to the Pope, and sent some of her trusted 
 friends and disciples to Avignon with instructions to dispose 
 Gregory's heart to peace, and mitigate his just indignation 
 against the Florentines. But this was not deemed sufficient
 
 1 68 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 for the urgency of the occasion. The citizens implored of her, 
 in the name of God, to go herself to the pope and obtain peace 
 for them. 
 
 This \vas a mission the saint could not refuse. She set out 
 on her journey in search of peace ; but unfortunately just at 
 the very time that Robert, Cardinal of Geneva, left Avignon at 
 the head of an army of 6000 cavalry and 4000 infantry, in- 
 cluding the indomitable company of Bretons, to let loose on 
 Bologna a ferocious soldiery, and culminate the horrors of war 
 in the massacre of Ceseme. Some of Catherine's disciples had 
 already preceded her to Avignon. Father Raymond and some 
 others of the frati were there ; and Neri di Landoccio was either 
 there or, if he had already returned to Italy after delivering the 
 saint's letter to the pope, he again set out in her company. 
 We are told, at anyrate, that she left Italy with twenty-two 
 disciples, among whom certainly were three of the Sisters of 
 Penance, Fra Giovanni Tantucci and Fra Felice da Massa, 
 both Augustinians, Fra Guidone, three of the sons of 
 Buoncorti of Pisa, Nicolo di Mino Cicerchi, and Stefano di 
 Corrado Maconi. 
 
 Some time before this journey had been thought of, the 
 saint said one day to Stefano, " Before long, my dear son, 
 your greatest wish shall be granted." He was astonished to 
 hear this, for he was not conscious of entertaining any particular 
 desire in the world ; he was rather thinking of quitting it 
 altogether. " My very dear mother," he said, " what is my 
 greatest desire ? " She told him to look into his heart. " I 
 do hot find, mother, that I have any stronger wish than to 
 remain with you." "Then you shall be satisfied," she said. 
 And yet when the journey to Avignon was decided on, he never 
 ventured to hope he might be allowed to go. When, therefore, 
 he heard that he wasamongthose chosen to accompany Catherine 
 to France, he remembered what she had said, and joyfully left 
 home and friends to follow her footsteps. 
 
 Whether the saint and her disciples travelled by sea or land 
 there is no way of ascertaining, for the account of her journeys, 
 written by Don Giovanni delle Celle, has been lost. All we 
 know is, that on the 1 8th June she and her followers entered 
 on foot the City of the Popes Avignon, busy, splendid, 
 luxurious : bristling with defences, beautified with innumerable 
 spires and gigantic towers ; majestically seated on the Rhone,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 169 
 
 flowing rapidly by the battlemented walls and past the abrupt 
 acclivity on which stood the cathedral and the fortress-palace 
 of the popes. Gregory showed his esteem for the saint by 
 ordering her to be lodged in the house of a certain Giovanni 
 de Regio, a large tower-shaped mansion, having a richly 
 adorned chapel attached, and directing that whatever she and 
 her companions might require should be provided at his ex- 
 pense. On the very day of her arrival a short letter was 
 brought to her from the pope, asking her advice as to whether 
 he should take counsel with the cardinals before he decided on 
 returning to Rome. From Catherine's answer it would appear 
 that they had cited for Gregory the example of Clement iv., 
 who, when about to do the same thing, sought the advice of 
 his brothers the cardinals. But Catherine observes that they 
 say nothing of the course pursued by Urban v., who in doubtful 
 matters consulted their opinion, but in clear and evident cases, 
 like this question of the pontiffs return to his See, did not wait 
 for what they had to say, but followed his own judgment, 
 paying no heed to their opposition. She implores him, in the 
 name of Christ, to hasten to make up his mind to depart, but 
 recommends him to keep his intentions up to the last 
 moment a secret. This letter was dictated to Stefano Maconi ; 
 and Father Raymond, when he had translated it into Latin, 
 carried it to the pope. 
 
 Two days after her arrival, having received a command to 
 appear before the pope and speak in the name of the Floren- 
 tines, Catherine of Siena, attended by Father Raymond of 
 Capua, stood in the presence of the Supreme Pontiff, who was 
 seated on his throne and surrounded by the purple - robed 
 cardinals. The saint spoke in her exquisite Italian, she knew 
 no other language, and Father Raymond translated what she 
 said into Latin for the pope, who did not understand what was 
 then considered a vulgar tongue. When she had finished 
 speaking, the Holy Father, who seemed to be greatly im- 
 pressed by her views, said to her, "In order that you may 
 see how truly anxious I am for peace and concord, I 
 leave all in your hands, only recommending you to have 
 due regard for the honour and the interests of the Holy 
 Church." 
 
 Catherine began, with all the ardour of her nature, to dispose 
 matters so that when the Florentine ambassadors, who were tQ
 
 i;o A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 have immediately followed her to Avignon, should arrive, peace 
 might be made without delay. She spoke with many of the 
 cardinals, and with several temporal lords, and all seemed to 
 promise well. But the Eight of War were in no haste to send 
 the ambassadors. Their most earnest desire was to keep things 
 in their existing state, and maintain their own position. They 
 talked of peace merely to please the people, who were scandal- 
 ised by the attitude the republic had assumed towards the Holy 
 See. Gregory, noticing the delay, said to Catherine that the 
 Florentines, who had evidently counted on deceiving the pope, 
 would in the end deceive even herself; they would not send 
 any embassy, or, if they did, no conclusion would be come to. 
 Finally arrived three envoys from Florence, well instructed by 
 the Eight to spend the time in fruitless negotiations, and not 
 to let peace be made. 
 
 Meanwhile, however, there were other great interests claim- 
 ing attention, which Catherine's stay in Avignon gave her an 
 opportunity of advancing. First among these, of course, were 
 the pope's return to Rome and the crusade against the Turks. 
 On these and other subjects she not only spoke to Gregory, 
 but, for greater convenience, as he did not understand her 
 tongue, wrote letters to him from Giovanni de Regie's tower- 
 like mansion. To Charles v. of France nothing was more 
 repugnant than this project of the pope's desertion'of Avignon ; 
 and the king desired his second son, Louis, Duke of Anjou, 
 who had gone to the Papal Court about some matter in dispute 
 with the King of Aragon, to dissuade the Holy Father from 
 putting his resolve into execution. The duke was by no 
 means prepossessed in favour of Catherine of Siena ; but she 
 had no sooner become acquainted with him than she recog- 
 nised in the king's son the fitting man to be intrusted with the 
 conduct of the crusade, and she proposed to Gregory that 
 Louis should be named commander of the expedition. The 
 duke's distrust was, before long, changed to affection and 
 reverence; he was anxious that the saint should visit the 
 French Court, and try whether peace might not be made with 
 Edward of England. She would not do this, but she wrote to 
 the king a letter full of eloquent and wise counsel. There was 
 no difficulty, however, in persuading Catherine to visit the 
 Duke and Duchess of Anjou when their home on account of 
 an accident that had occurred at a banquet they had given was
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 171 
 
 a house of mourning. She went to their residence and re- 
 mained three days with them. 
 
 One day the pope sent for Catherine, and asked her would 
 she recommend him to carry out his intention of returning to 
 Rome, notwithstanding the many and serious obstacles that 
 opposed the execution of his design. She excused herself, say- 
 ing it was not fitting that an insignificant woman should decide 
 such a question. Gregory said he did not ask her counsel he 
 wanted to know the will of God. " How, then," she replied, 
 "can you be ignorant of the will of God you who vowed to 
 Him that you would return to Rome ? " The pontiff, greatly 
 astonished at being thus reminded of a vow which he had 
 indeed made, but had never spoken of to anyone, became 
 more than ever convinced that it was the voice of God that 
 urged him to depart. He commanded that a galley should lie 
 at anchor in the Rhone ready for an emergency, though its 
 possible destination was kept a secret. 
 
 Suddenly, on the i3th September 1376, Gregory xi. 
 announced his intention of at once leaving Avignon and 
 returning to Rome. The time was gone by for murmurs or 
 objections the Court must remove from the seat of peace and 
 security in Provence, the cardinals must leave their too-well- 
 loved native land, the citizens of Avignon must be satisfied to 
 see their glory vanish. But the pope did not mean to drop 
 down the Rhone in that galley anchored under the shadow of 
 the walls ; he would go in solemn cavalcade to Marseilles, and, 
 under the escort of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, 
 embark at that port for Italy. In the midst of gloom, 
 stupefaction, and incidents of ill-omen, the Holy Father bade 
 adieu to that palace-sanctuary built upon a rock so grandly 
 fortified without, so exquisitely adorned within. His relations 
 implored him to stay, and his aged father flung himself across 
 the threshold and, with uncontrollable emotion, adjured him 
 not to go forth an exile from the land of his birth the very 
 mule on which he had mounted refused to take the road. 
 Strong now in his resolve, nothing could retard the pope. 
 Another mule was brought, and the procession, sadly enough, 
 moved on. The clergy, the religious, the citizens of Marseilles, 
 came out to meet the Holy Father as he approached their city; 
 they paid him all the honour due to so exalted a guest ; they 
 mourned over his departure, as all France was sure to do.
 
 172 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 Ten days he lingered on the shores of that sea that was to bear 
 him from his place of rest to a land strewn with thorns and 
 tempest-riven. 
 
 Of the twenty-two ships awaiting the signal of departure, the 
 greater number belonged to the Knights of St. John. Foreign 
 States, however, were not unrepresented. Among the rest 
 appeared a splendid galley belonging to Florence; for the 
 republic, though at war with Gregory, could not but rejoice 
 with the rest of Italy when the tidings had gone forth that the 
 Head of the Church was returning to the City of the Apostles. 
 
 The venerable Grand Master, Don Juan Fernandez Eradia, 
 commanded the galley in which the pope was to embark. On 
 the 2nd October Gregory went on board, and with tearful eyes 
 turned away his gaze from the shores it had cost him so much 
 to forsake. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Siena era a lei come famiglia, le era ratria-la Chicsa." 
 
 ST. CATHERINE, whose absence from Italy had been prolonged 
 far beyond her expectation, had for some time -greatly desired 
 to return to her own city. She begged of the pope to grant 
 her a final audience and permit her to depart. Gregory XL, 
 however, would not suffer her to leave Avignon until he had 
 himself set out. On the very day, therefore, that the Holy 
 Father left for Marseilles, the saint and her disciples turned 
 their steps towards home. They entered Toulon in their 
 usual humble guise, and Catherine, according to her custom, 
 retired to her apartment in the inn. Her friends had not 
 spoken of her ; but, as Father Raymond says, the very stones 
 seemed to cry out, and the people came in crowds asking 
 where was the saint who was returning from the pontifical 
 Court. In Genoa the travellers were hospitably received by 
 Monna Orietta Scotta, who kept them in her house during the 
 month they remained in that city ; and, as several of them fell 
 ill after the journey, she had two physicians to see them every 
 day. Neri di Landoccio was reduced to such a condition that 
 the doctors despaired of his recovery. The sad news was 
 imparted to the rest by Father Raymond one day as they sat 
 at table together. StefariQ Macoru' rose instantly and went to
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 173 
 
 Catherine. Throwing himself at her feet, he conjured her with 
 tears not to suffer his companion and brother, during a journey 
 undertaken for God and for her, to die and be buried in a 
 strange land. She said he ought not to grieve so much if it 
 should be God's will to call his brother Neri, and reward him 
 for all his labours. But this made Stefano lament the more, 
 and urgently press his petition, for well he believed she could 
 obtain their friend's recovery if she only would. Catherine, 
 greatly affected, replied, that all she intended was to exhort 
 him to submit to God's will, and bade him come to her when 
 she had received Holy Communion at Mass in the morning 
 and remind her of his intention, while he at the same time 
 should pray that her supplications might be heard. Stefano 
 was early on the watch next day, and presenting himself to 
 Catherine just as she was going to Mass, entreated her not to 
 deceive his expectations. When she arose from prayer after 
 Communion she found the faithful secretary waiting at her side. 
 She smiled and told him the grace he desired had been 
 obtained. "Mother, will Neri be cured?" he exclaimed. 
 " Yes," she replied ; " for it is God's will to restore him to us." 
 Hearing these words, the young man with joyful heart hastened 
 to his sick friend, who very soon completely recovered. 
 
 A pendant to this picture, as given by Father Raymond, is 
 Stefano's account of the saint going to visit him with her 
 confessor and companions, when he, too, after constant and 
 affectionate nursing of his sick friends, was seized with fever. 
 He was so rejoiced to see her that he forgot what was the 
 matter with him ; and when she asked him how he was 
 affected, he answered quite cheerfully that they told him he 
 was ill, but he did not know what ailed him. Placing her 
 hand on his forehead and shaking her head, " Do you hear 
 how the child answers me ? " she said. " They tell him he is 
 ill, and he does not know what is the matter, and all the 
 time he has a violent fever." She told him she would not 
 allow him to follow the example of the others he must 
 recover, and get up at once, and attend to the rest as usual. 
 And then, while she went on discoursing of heavenly things, 
 the patient began to feel so much better that he could not help 
 interrupting the conversation to tell his friends of the change 
 that had suddenly come over him. 
 
 Stefano's mother, Monna Giovanna di Corrado, herself one
 
 174 ^ CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 of Catherine's disciples, appears to have suffered some uneasi- 
 ness about her son's long absence from home ; for we find the 
 saint writing to beg of her to overcome the grief his departure 
 has caused her, and to rejoice rather, for the journey would not 
 be devoid of profit to his soul and to Monna Giovanna's also. 
 Unshaken trust in the providence of God and firm belief in His 
 infinite love are inculcated ; and a serious lesson is given to 
 Christian parents who are not satisfied to allow their children 
 to follow the call of God, but, according to their own fancy, 
 choose a state of life for them, saying they are anxious to see 
 their children living in a manner pleasing to the Almighty, but 
 that this can be done in the world as well as in any other 
 state. In their pride and ignorance, these poor mothers go so 
 far as to lay down laws and regulations for the Holy Ghost. 
 " Be of good heart now, and patient," she says in the end ; 
 "and do not be troubled if I have kept Stefano too long. I 
 have taken good care of him ; for we are one and the same in 
 affection, and, besides, your interests are as dear to me as my own." 
 While Catherine was still in Genoa, Gregory xi. came into 
 port after a perilous and tempestuous voyage, in which the 
 galley with the pope on board was only saved from shipwreck 
 by the nautical experience of the Grand Master, who com- 
 manded the vessel. During the ten days the Holy Father 
 remained in Genoa, discouraging accounts were received from 
 other parts of Italy. It was said that the Romans had no 
 great welcome for the ruler whose authority they had usurped ; 
 while in Florence, tumultuous disorder continued to reign, and 
 the citizens were far from showing the joy which might have 
 been expected when desires so fervently expressed had been 
 at last fulfilled. The pope was greatly hurt, his fears re- 
 turned, he spoke of retracing his steps. Interested coun- 
 sellors were at hand to take advantage of any momentary 
 weakness he might betray. But the courageous spirit which 
 had supported him in the momentous crisis at Avignon was 
 also near, and still had power to strengthen him in his onward 
 course. Gregory went one night to Catherine's dwelling, and 
 taking counsel with her and listening to her powerful argu- 
 ments and persuasive eloquence, felt his courage invigorated. 
 Having made the saint promise to pray for him every day, he 
 departed, once more settled in resolve; and she, turning to God, 
 spent the whole night in prayer for the pontiff and for the Church.
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 175 
 
 On the 28th October 1376 the pope sailed out of the Bay 
 of Genoa, to encounter again the dangers and terrors of the sea. 
 Several of the cardinals became seriously ill on the passage, 
 and one of the number, Cardinal de Narbonne, landed to die 
 at Pisa. Finally, after a few days' stay at Leghorn, the Holy 
 Father disembarked at Corneto, where he remained until the 
 middle of the month of January following. Catherine had in 
 the meantime returned to Siena ; but her prayers and anxious 
 thoughts still followed the pontiff, and her letters reached him 
 at Corneto. She keeps before his mind the highest ideal of 
 constancy, fortitude, and patience. She reminds him how, so 
 early in his youth, he was planted in the garden of the Holy 
 Church, and how he has been chosen to labour and combat 
 for the honour of God, the salvation of souls, and the reform 
 of the Church. He knows well that when he took the Church 
 for his spouse he pledged himself to suffer for her the stress of 
 contrary winds, and all the sorrows and tribulations that should 
 arise. Like a valiant man he must stand up to face the storm, 
 never looking back through surprise or fear. The persecutions 
 of the Church, like the trials of the virtuous soul, end in peace 
 won by true patience and by perseverance, for which the crown 
 of glory is reserved. Let the Holy Father, in the name of 
 Jesus crucified, hasten with all speed to take the place of the 
 glorious apostles, Peter and Paul, full of assured confidence 
 that God will give him all that is necessary for himself and for 
 the Church his spouse. Catherine at the same time intercedes 
 for her own city, which had been compelled by the Florentines 
 to side against the pope. Siena, she says, had always been the 
 cherished daughter of his Holiness. It is evident that the 
 citizens were constrained by circumstances to do things dis- 
 pleasing to the Holy Father, who may therefore well excuse 
 them and draw them to him with the bond of love. 1 
 
 At last, three months after his departure from Avignon, 
 Gregory, having embarked on the Tiber, arrived at St. Paul's 
 and thence proceeded to Rome, making his entrance amidst 
 
 1 Shortly after, when Gregory had entered Rome, Andrea Piccolomini 
 and two other citizens were sent as ambassadors from Siena to congratulate 
 the Sovereign Pontiff on his return to the City of the Apostles, and to 
 negotiate certain affairs of State. The old historian relates that, having- 
 brought letters from Sister Catherine Benincasa, the envoys were 
 received with great benignity by the pope. The saint reminds the Holy
 
 i?6 A 
 
 the vivas of the now rejoicing multitude. The Grand Master" 
 of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem carried the triumphal 
 standard of the Church ; the clergy, the nobles, the senator 
 and bannerets, and the citizens followed in procession ; the* 
 way was strewn with flowers ; and as evening fell before the 
 pope arrived at St. Peter's, the city burst into illumination, 
 while the people, kindling flambeaux as they went, made the 
 roadway a path of light. In spite, however, of the general 
 gladness, and notwithstanding the readiness with which the 
 citizens had given the keys of the city into the pope's hands 
 as he entered the gates, Gregory soon perceived that it would 
 be no easier nor quicker task to establish peace among the 
 factions that divided Rome than it would be to build up the 
 ruins that encumbered the soil on every side. Had he been 
 left in peace to attend to the government of the Papal States, 
 his conciliatory temper and great patience might have prevailed 
 over many obstacles. St. Catherine's earnest desire was 'that 
 the pope, on his return to the apostolic city, should discharge 
 the Breton troops, and begin the pacification of Italy with 
 unarmed hands. This did not meet the views of those who 
 had influence in the Roman Court. War and confusion con- 
 tinued to be the order of the day. 
 
 After a time, the pope's adherents having gained some 
 advantage, Gregory, seizing the occasion, sent two ecclesiastics, 
 one an Augustinian and the other a Minorite, to Florence to 
 prepare the way for peace. Catherine, on her side, left 
 nothing undone to second the Holy Father's efforts ; wrote 
 to her friends in the hostile city, and sent thither Stefano 
 Maconi with instructions to act on her part. But neither the 
 pontiffs envoys nor the saint's disciples met with much 
 success. The Eight of War were more than ever opposed 
 to reconciliation. To make matters worse, they determined 
 that the interdict should no longer be observed, sent orders 
 through the city and the neighbouring territory to have 
 the services of the Church performed as usual, heavily fined 
 
 Father that all reasonable beings are more taken by love and kindness 
 than by anything else "which is most of all true with regard to our 
 Italians of these parts." Indeed, she does not see that there is any other 
 way in which the Holy Father can gain them. " The Sienese ambassadors 
 are going to your Holiness ; and if there are people in the world who can 
 be drawn by affection, certainly these are they."
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 177 
 
 the convents and churches where resistance was offered, and 
 sentenced to a like penalty all prelates who should absent 
 themselves from their churches. 
 
 One Sunday morning an envoy of the pope called on Father 
 Raymond, who was then in Rome, and desired him to go to 
 the pontifical palace at dinner-hour. The Holy Father, on 
 receiving him, said that he had reason to think that if Catherine 
 of Siena were to go to Florence the citizens would not have 
 the heart to resist so charitable and holy a woman, and some 
 good results might be looked for. Father Raymond replied, 
 that not Catherine alone, but he himself and all the frati of 
 the Order, would be ready to meet death itself in obedience to 
 the Holy Church. But Gregory wished that she alone should 
 go as his accredited envoy ; for she, being held in great rever- 
 ence by all, would be less exposed to danger than anyone else. 
 Catherine was informed of the Holy Father's desire that she 
 should go on his part to the faction-torn republic, the necessary 
 powers were sent to her, and with her accustomed promptness 
 and intrepidity she set out from Siena. Nicolo Soderini and 
 her numerous friends and disciples in Florence received her 
 with delight. On the very day of her arrival she spoke three 
 times to the people, on submission to the Church's ordinances 
 and on the observance of the interdict, and produced so 
 profound an impression that the citizens returned to their 
 obedience and the interdict was observed anew. Her joy was 
 expressed in a letter to the Cardinal di Luna. " Pray," she 
 says, " that the sun may quickly rise, for now the dawn 
 appears. The morning light is breaking, and the darkness 
 spread abroad by the mortal sins committed in celebrating 
 and publicly celebrating the divine offices of the Church has 
 been dispelled, to the discomfiture of him who desired to 
 prevent its disappearance. The interdict is observed." 
 
 The saint's next effort was not so speedily successful. 
 Nothing could be more pitiable than the state of Florence, 
 reduced to penury by the interruption of her commerce, and 
 suffering all the consequences of war without and anarchy 
 within. To reconcile the republic to the Holy See appeared 
 hardly possible the Florentines would not be reconciled with 
 one another. However, the Guelphic party gained strength 
 and, with the aid of the well-disposed citizens, compelled the 
 Eight ot War to come to terms. It was arranged that the 
 12
 
 i 7 8 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 pacification of Italy should be undertaken by a congress 
 summoned to assemble at Sarzana, to which the princes of 
 Europe, the Italian republics, and the cities leagued against 
 the pope were each to send two or more representatives, while 
 Barnabas Visconti undertook to appear in person and act as 
 arbiter between the Sovereign Pontiff and the Florentines. The 
 congress assembled in due course, the Cardinal della Giorgia 
 and the Bishop of Narbonne representing the pope ; and the 
 conditions of peace were all but completed when the proceed- 
 ings were suddenly interrupted by the intelligence of the death 
 of Gregory XL, which happened on the 27th March 1378. 
 
 This calamity threw Florence into wilder confusion. The 
 people broke loose from all control no longer knew what they 
 thought nor what they wanted ; and, collecting in mobs, wildly 
 attacked such persons as happened to excite their animosity. 
 Catherine's friends suffered severely. Soderini's house was 
 pillaged and burned, and the residence of another of her 
 disciples, Ristoro Canigiani, brother of Barduccio, shared the 
 same fate. Canigiani's enemies, with sublime republican irony, 
 inscribed his name on the list of the nobles; a proceeding 
 tantamount in those days to deprivation of the right to share 
 in the government of the State. But the frenzy of the populace 
 reached its height when a cry was raised that Catherine of 
 Siena was the cause of their sufferings, and that she ought to 
 be cut in pieces or burned alive. The people in whose house 
 she was staying basely abandoned her. With some of her 
 disciples she took refuge in a garden not far off, where she 
 began at once to pray, beseeching the Almighty that bloodshed 
 might cease in the city, or that if a sacrifice were wanted she 
 might be the victim. The crowd rushed into the garden, 
 shouting, ''Where was this. Catherine? Where was this cursed 
 woman ? " Hearing the cry, Catherine arose from her prayer, 
 and coming forward threw herself on her knees before a wild- 
 looking man who was brandishing a naked sword and vocife- 
 rating louder than the rest. "I am Catherine," she said. 
 " Take me and kill me. But, in the name of God, I com- 
 mand you not to hurt any of the people who are with me." 
 Her words threw the ringleader into confusion. All he could 
 do was to desire her to get out of his sight and begone. But 
 she courageously replied that she would not go ; she would 
 remain where she was, she desired to suffer, and would rather
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 17$ 
 
 than anything in the world be made a sacrifice for Christ and 
 the Church. 
 
 The mob dispersed without doing her any harm. Her com- 
 panions congratulated her on her escape from imminent 
 danger, but she lamented that she was not found worthy of 
 so glorious a death. They tried to persuade her to return to 
 Siena. Nothing, however, would induce her to leave the 
 Florentine territory until she had fulfilled her mission. She 
 retired to Vallombrosa, where she remained until, the city 
 becoming quiet after a few days, she was able to return to 
 Florence. Before long she succeeded in accomplishing her 
 task. Ambassadors were sent to Rome. At the same time 
 she wrote to the pope, imploring him to receive the stray 
 sheep with mercy. Even though they should not sue for 
 clemency with true and perfect humility, she hopes the 
 Holy Father will overlook their deficiency and not exact from 
 the weak what they are incapable of giving. He is not to 
 regard the scandal that has taken place in the city, where the 
 demons of hell appear to have been doing all they could to 
 prevent peace being made. These children will be afterwards 
 better than the rest. She herself wishes no longer to remain 
 in Florence. But the Holy Father will find her obedient to 
 his will ; her only anxious desire is to obtain the favour and the 
 pardon she now entreats. 
 
 The pope listened favourably to the saint's prayer. Peace 
 was granted on the conditions proposed at the congress so 
 disastrously interrupted. The Bishop of Volterra and Fra 
 Francesco Orvieto were sent in due course to free the Floren- 
 tines from the excommunication. Catherine announces the 
 joyful intelligence of peace in letters addressed to "Sano di 
 Maco and her other sons in Christ" in Siena. God has heard 
 the cry of His servants who have so long wept in His presence 
 and moaned over these dead. Now they have arisen. From 
 death they have been restored to life ; from darkness they 
 have come forth to light. What unutterable joy it is to see 
 the children returning to the obedience of their Father, and 
 recovering His favour after having pacified their souls ! "On 
 Saturday, at one o'clock, the olive branch of peace appeared, 
 and to-day at vespers all was finished." Catherine, thus set 
 free, said to her disciples, "We may quit Florence, since, 
 through the grace of God, I have followed His commandments
 
 i8o A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 and obeyed the order of His vicar. Those whom I found in 
 revolt against the Holy Church I leave subject to that kind and 
 tender mother. Let us now return to Siena." 
 
 Catherine's home in her native city, which in itself appeared 
 unlike enough to the solitude a truly interior soul like hers 
 desires, had doubtless become, by force of contrast to the 
 turbulent rush of life in Florence and the courtly splendour of 
 the days in Avignon, a scene of peaceful seclusion, a very 
 haven of refuge. Withdrawn to some extent from the turmoil 
 of public affairs, the saint began to write the Dialogo, that 
 wonderful book, so simple in its form, so sublime in its 
 teaching, which the highest earthly authority has characterised 
 as replete with doctrine not acquired but infused. It was 
 composed in this wise. The saint spoke in the form of a 
 dialogue between God and the soul. One of her secretaries, 
 Neri di Landoccio, Barduccio, or Stefano Maconi, wrote 
 down the words as they fell from her lips. Cristofano di 
 Gano Guidini was also constantly present, listening and 
 writing also. 
 
 But short as was the interval, from July to October, in which 
 the saint was thus occupied, she was not left undisturbed by 
 the claims of the outer world. To understand the part she 
 was now required to take in the affairs of Christendom, we 
 must go back a few months, and recall the circumstances 
 attending the death of Gregory xi. and the election of his 
 successor, Urban vi. Gregory's pontificate, which had been 
 troubled enough throughout its course, was clouded towards 
 its close by the dread of still more evil days that were fast 
 approaching. Yielding to despondency, he fancied that the 
 great act of his life the return from Avignon had been 
 undertaken in vain, and dreamed, it is said, of yet another 
 removal to Provence. His health, never robust, began rapidly 
 to fail, and he became extremely apprehensive of the conse- 
 quences of his demise. He carefully made arrangements for 
 the assembling of the conclave ; ordered that the cardinals in 
 Rome at the time of his death should select some place in 
 the city or outside, and proceed without delay to elect his 
 successor; desired that whoever had the majority of votes, 
 even though the number did not reach two-thirds, should be 
 proclaimed pope; and in the most moving manner besought them, 
 in the name of the divine mercy, to choose the most worthy.
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 181 
 
 The Sacred College consisted, at the moment of Gregory's 
 death, of twenty-three cardinals. Sixteen of the number were 
 in Rome, six had remained in Avignon, and one was at 
 Sarzana. Of the four Italian cardinals, all but Tebaldeschi, 
 Cardinal of St. Peter's, aspired to the tiara. The French 
 desired a pope of their own nation, but they were divided. 
 The natives of Limousin wished to elect a countryman of their 
 own, while the others were of opinion that that province had 
 already given too many pontiffs, to the Church. The solitary 
 Spaniard remained undecided. The Roman people of every 
 class, intensely excited and dreading the desertion of their city 
 if another French pope were elected, loudly clamoured for an 
 Italian, if not a Roman, pontiff. Under these circumstances, 
 immediately after the obsequies of the late pope had been 
 performed, the conclave assembled. A terrible thunderstorm 
 broke over the city at the same moment, while the people 
 raised a still more frightful uproar, threatening death to the 
 cardinals if the election did not satisfy them. Even before 
 the conclave assembled, the cardinals had thought of electing 
 to the chair of St. Peter a dignitary of the Church not included 
 in the Sacred College. Bartolomeo Prignano, Archbishop of 
 Bari, had been spoken of, and attention was again directed to 
 him. The French were the first to speak and vote in his favour ; 
 the Italians consented, though unwillingly. The archbishop was 
 summoned to the conclave, and, to avoid exciting the suspicions 
 of the Romans, certain other eminent prelates were also invited. 
 Finally, Prignano was elected by an unanimous vote. The 
 announcement was delayed lest the people should rise in 
 revolt, for by this time none but a Roman would content them. 
 Rumours, however, got wind to the effect that Francoise de 
 Bar, a Frenchman, was elected. The populace thereupon rose 
 to arms, besieged the conclave, and forced the cardinals to 
 take to flight. To gain time, it was given out that Cardinal 
 Tebaldeschi had been chosen, but had refused the dignity. The 
 excited multitude rushed to do honour to the supposed pope ; 
 forced the aged and infirm cardinal to assume the pontifical 
 insignia, and crowded round him to kiss his hands and feet. 
 Distressed beyond measure to see himself the object of so 
 irreverent a proceeding, and driven to extremity, he told the 
 people that the Archbishop of Bari, and not he, was pope. A 
 cry was now raised of Non lo vokmo ! the bells were rung
 
 ifia A CITIZEN* SA/lVT 
 
 to call the citizens, and the tumult reached its height. Next 
 day, the ferment having somewhat subsided, the cardinals, who 
 had taken refuge in the castle of St. Angelo and elsewhere to 
 the number of twelve, returned to the pontifical palace. The 
 pope-elect inquired whether the proceedings had been con- 
 ducted canonically. The cardinals answered that all had been 
 done in due form, besought him not to leave the Church 
 without a head in this time of sore distress, and urged 
 him to accept without delay the pontifical honours. He 
 did so. The prescribed ceremonies were gone through, and 
 the newly-elected pope was publicly crowned in the Lateran 
 Basilica as Urban vi. 
 
 The cardinals who had not at once returned to the pontifical 
 palace, and Gerardo Ambiense, who had been absent at 
 Sarzana, now hastened to do homage to Urban. They all 
 wrote to the emperor and to the princes of Europe announcing 
 the unanimous election of the Archbishop of Bari. Those who 
 had stayed at Avignon confirmed the election. St. Catherine, 
 though she held the new pope, whom she had known in 
 Avignon, in high esteem, was well aware of the defects of his 
 character. From the first she appears to have dreaded the 
 consequences of his harsh temper, impetuous zeal, and uncon- 
 ciliatory nature. In her letters she constantly entreats him to 
 be considerate and indulgent in his dealings with others. She 
 reminds him that to act without moderation impedes rather 
 than advances what we undertake ; and begs him, for the sake 
 of Christ crucified, to control in some degree the quick impulses 
 to which he is naturally inclined. No less anxious was the 
 saint that he should surround himself with wise counsellors 
 and good men. She considered it of immense importance 
 that he should proceed at once to create cardinals, and that he 
 should exercise sound judgment in the selection. Unfortun- 
 ately, these recommendations were not attended to in time. 
 The cardinals were not created until it was too late ; and 
 before many months were over, Urban's severity had produced 
 irreparable disaster. 
 
 On the very day after his coronation, the pope publicly 
 upbraided the bishops who were present for remaining in Rome 
 and deserting their sees ; and shortly after, in public consistory, 
 he reprehended the cardinals in the bitterest terms, stigmatised 
 the vices of the Court, and inveighed against the bad example
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 183 
 
 given by the princes of the Church. Conveyed in exasperat- 
 ing terms, these reproaches had no other effect than to 
 give occasion to insulting rejoinders. " Tu menti, O Barese " 
 was the answer of the Cardinal of Amiens on one occasion. 
 From words the pope proceeded to deeds, inaugurating 
 sudden reforms, instituting merciless retrenchments, and 
 adopting a course regarded as imprudent and unfeeling. 
 Summer approaching, the cardinals left Rome ; and according 
 to previous arrangement the greater number of them met at 
 Anagni, to take counsel together and decide on the course they 
 should adopt. Reports were put in circulation casting doubts 
 on the validity of Urban's election, the intentions of the 
 cardinals began to be surmised, and in the end all disguise 
 was thrown off. Rostagno, a Frenchman, who had the 
 command of the castle of St. Angelo, was gained over to their 
 side, an army of Bretons was subsidised, and an altitude of 
 open hostility assumed. Otto of Brunswick, the husband of 
 the Queen of Naples, repaired to Anagni with a view of 
 bringing about a reconciliation. By Urban's command, three 
 of the Italian cardinals set out on the same mission. Many 
 other influential men also interposed. The pope even pro- 
 posed to summon an cecumenical council to consider the 
 question of the election. But all was in vain. The French 
 party began to work upon the ambition of the three Italian 
 cardinals, Corsini of Florence, Borzano of Milan, and Orsini 
 of Rome, holding out to each a hope of the tiara. Tebal- 
 deschi alone remained faithful to Urban ; and shortly after, 
 being on his deathbed, he deposed in the most solemn manner 
 that the voting had been perfectly free, and that Urban had 
 been unanimously elected. 
 
 Overwhelmed with grief at seeing himself thus deserted, and 
 filled with consternation at the evils that had fallen on the 
 Church, the pope regretted his extreme asperity and unwise 
 precipitancy, and saw how imprudent he had been in neglect- 
 ing to increase the Sacred College. He now would have 
 wished to create twenty -nine new cardinals, but five of 
 those to whom the dignity was offered refused to accept it. 
 Two days after, the cardinals who had left Anagni and 
 assembled in the castle of Onorato, Count of Fondi, a 
 nobleman of influence rendered malcontent by sudden 
 deprivation of his government declared the election of
 
 184 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 Urban null and void, reproached, denounced, anathema- 
 tised him, went through the form of an election, and 
 proclaimed the Cardinal of Geneva under the title of Pope 
 Clement vn. 
 
 Such was the news brought to Siena towards the close of 
 the month of September 1378. Catherine, who was well 
 aware of the circumstances attending the election of Urban, 
 had not the shadow of doubt of the validity of his title. With 
 all the ardour of her soul she now strove to sustain the pope's 
 courage in his perilous position, and comfort him in his terrible 
 isolation. She exerted all her influence to hold in true allegi- 
 ance her friends and disciples, to keep the cities in which her 
 name had authority from leaguing with the schismatics, and to 
 dissuade the princes with whom she was in correspondence 
 from lending countenance to the anti-pope. In her letters to 
 Urban at this crisis, that heroism of soul which is contagious 
 finds expression. And certainly the pope had need of such 
 support. He was personally unattractive. He had not the 
 gift of making friends ; in fact, he had the unhappy art of 
 alienating those who naturally would have clung to him. 
 Clement, on the contrary, had many advantages and possessed 
 not a few brilliant qualities. He was not yet thirty-six years 
 of age, was of commanding stature and graceful presence, 
 was handsome and courtly, loved splendour, and was liberal 
 and generous in expenditure. His military talents, though 
 disgraced by the affair of Cesena, were likely to be turned to 
 good account in his present position. Moreover, he was 
 connected with many of the great families of Europe. 
 
 Clement did not, in the first instance, succeed in gaining 
 the support of the King of France; though, in the end, the 
 prospect of having a French pope established in Avignon, and 
 the promise held out of a donation to the Duke of Anjou of a 
 no inconsiderable portion of St. Peter's patrimony, overcame 
 his reluctance to encourage schism. The Queen of Naples 
 shared the satisfaction of her subjects on the accession of a 
 Neapolitan to the pontifical throne, offered rich presents on 
 the occasion, and sent three hundred soldiers, under the. 
 command of Count Lorito Caracciolo, to form a guard of 
 honour to the pope. But this good understanding speedily 
 came to an end. His Holiness refused to sanction the 
 marriage of the daughter and heir of the King of Sicily with a
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 18$ 
 
 relative of Joanna's husband; one of the most influential of 
 her courtiers, Nicolo Spinelli, having been treated with some 
 indignity at the Court of Rome on the occasion of his visit 
 with Otto of Brunswick, cherished a violent animosity to 
 Urban, and made the queen believe that the pope intended to 
 shut her up in a monastery and give her kingdom to Charles 
 Durazzo, in a word, deadly enmity took the place of 
 temporary friendship. 
 
 At length the pope resolved to act on St. Catherine's advice 
 and call to his aid true servants of God who, unmoved by 
 passion and uninfluenced by selfish considerations, would be 
 capable of giving him wise and efficient counsel. But the 
 saint must have been greatly astonished when she was informed 
 that the first step his Holiness took in that direction was to 
 send for Father Raymond, who was then prior of the Minerva, 
 and desire him to write to her to come at once to Rome. 
 Her answer to this was that she was unwilling to go, knowing, 
 as she did, that many of the citizens of Siena, and especially 
 some of the Sisters of Penance, did not approve of so many 
 journeys, and thought it not right for a religious to be seen 
 travelling on all the high roads. She declined, in fact, to go 
 unless the pope sent her an express command in writing. 
 Father Raymond told this to Urban, who forthwith com- 
 manded Catherine, in virtue of holy obedience, to repair to 
 Rome without delay. She therefore set out from her native 
 city, "going," as she wrote to Sister Daniella da Orvieto, "to 
 accomplish the will of Christ crucified and of His vicar." She 
 was accompanied by a great number of her friends and 
 disciples, some wishing to visit the tombs of the martyrs, 
 others desiring to seek some favour from the pope all anxious 
 to remain with her. Among the Sisters of Penance who went 
 on this pilgrimage were her mother, Alessia, Francesca, 
 Giovanna di Capo, and Lisa. Fra Giovanni Tantucci was with 
 her on this journey as on the road to Avignon, so likewise 
 was Fra Santi. Neri di Landoccio and Barduccio and 
 Tommasso Buonconti left their affluent homes with joy to 
 follow and to serve her. Others who could not then go, went 
 after some time to Rome. 
 
 The saint and her family of friends and disciples lodged in 
 a street close to the Piazza della Minerva, and lived on alms. 
 An excellent systenr was established in the house. One of
 
 :S6 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 the sisters was appointed every week to manage the affairs of 
 the community, so that the rest might be free to follow their 
 religious exercises and attend to the business that had brought 
 them to Rome. When the provisions seemed likely to run 
 short, a day's notice was to be given, so that Catherine or one of 
 the others might go out to look for bread. The family usually 
 consisted of twenty-four members, but the number was often 
 vastly increased. Catherine was so hospitable that, Father 
 Raymond says, she would have thought as little of receiving 
 a hundred guests as of inviting one. When those who were 
 called to Rome by the pope and by her began to answer the 
 summons, they found a home in that house. The church and 
 convent of Santa Maria sopra Minerva were close at hand. 
 The basilica of St. Peter's was about a mile distant. Other 
 holy places possessing special attractions for the saint and her 
 disciples, such as the church of Santa Sabina on the Aventine, 
 and the convent of San Sisto on the Appian Way, were some- 
 what farther off. 
 
 But there was other work to be done in Rome besides 
 visiting places dear to the Christian world, as well as to her 
 heart. One day she was commanded to repair to the ponti- 
 fical palace, and speak before the pope and the cardinals on 
 the subject of the schism. The Holy Father was astonished 
 at the wisdom and eloquence of her words. Turning to the 
 cardinals he said, " Ought not we be ashamed in the sight of 
 God to yield to despondency? This humble little woman 
 puts us to shame. I call her so not disparagingly, but because 
 her sex is weak, and she might naturally be expected to 
 tremble even while we stood firm in courage. But see ! it is 
 we who are cast down, while she, unmoved by apprehension, 
 fortifies us with her noble words ! " 
 
 So high was the pope's opinion of Catherine's moral influ- 
 ence and power of persuasion, that he thought of sending her 
 to Naples with the view of detaching the queen from the 
 schism. His idea was to send her in company with the 
 daughter of St. Bridget of Sweden, another St. Catherine 
 living in Rome at that time, who was so well aware of the 
 circumstances attending the papal election that her testimony 
 in regard to the validity of Urban's title was considered 
 extremely important. Catherine of Sweden resembled her 
 mother in sanctity ; the pope himself once^ said to her, "Vere
 
 A ClTlZZtf SAINT 'i 87 
 
 bibefas de lacte matris tuae." In beauty she is said to have 
 excelled all the women of the time. Father Raymond, to 
 whom the pope had spoken on the subject of the embassy, 
 told Catherine of Siena what she might possibly be required to 
 do. She, who had courage for any undertaking, took up the 
 idea warmly, and offered to set out at once. But Catherine of 
 Sweden, who had been greatly annoyed by the Roman nobles 
 importuning her with offers of marriage, and inconvenienced 
 by the attention she attracted, saw good reasons for declining 
 to visit that iniquitous Court, and refused to go. The latter 
 view of the case rather tallied with Father Raymond's own. 
 So unscrupulous a woman as Joanna would not hesitate, he 
 thought, to have her visitors waylaid on the journey, or to 
 have them insulted on their arrival in her capital. His 
 Holiness also, on consideration, took this view of the question, 
 and decided not to send these saintly women to the Court of 
 the Queen of Naples. When the daughter of the free republic 
 heard this she said, " If Agnes and Margaret had listened to 
 such reasons they never would have won the martyr's crown. 
 And have not we a Spouse who can liberate us from the 
 hands of the impious, and save our honour in the midst of a 
 mob of impious men ? As far as my judgment goes, these are 
 all vain considerations proceeding from defect of faith rather 
 than from true prudence." Hearing her speak thus, Father 
 Raymond says he could not but blush interiorly to find 
 himself so inferior to her in constancy and faith. As there 
 was nothing else left for her to do, Catherine continued to 
 write letters to the queen and to several of the great ladies of 
 Naples, among whom she had devout admirers, and sent Neri 
 di Landoccio with them to the Court. 
 
 At this juncture there appeared to be still some hope that 
 Charles v. might be persuaded to support Urban ; and Father 
 Raymond, who was well known in France, and on whose zeal 
 and prudence the Pope strongly relied, was fixed on to carry 
 papal briefs to the king, the Duke of Anjou, the University of 
 Paris, and several cardinals, bishops, and personages of dis- 
 tinction. Associated with him in the embassy were the 
 Bishop of Valence and Digne and Jacomo Ceva, doctor of 
 laws, who were already on the other side of the Alps. 
 Catherine was greatly afflicted when she heard she was to 
 lose him whom she called her father and her dear son so
 
 1 88 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 soon after she had come to Rome. But she advised him to 
 obey without delay, and spoke to him in such impressive terms 
 on the duty of supporting Urban and defending his cause as 
 he would the Catholic faith itself that, although he had no 
 doubt on the subject, her words were a spur to him, and he 
 often recalled them afterwards and drew strength from them 
 in time of difficulty and trial. Before he left, she spoke with 
 him for some hours those who were present taking no part in 
 the conversation and then she said, " Now go whither God calls 
 you. I think that in this life we shall never discourse together 
 as we have just now done." And when the hour of departure 
 came, she went to the place of embarkation, and kneeling down 
 as the vessel moved from the shore, she prayed, and with 
 tearful eyes made the sign of the cross over the departing 
 friend, taking thus what proved indeed a last farewell. 
 
 Father Raymond got safety to Pisa and thence to Genoa, 
 though the sea was covered with the ships of the schismatics 
 hurrying to Avignon, and with Joanna's galleys on the watch 
 to intercept all communication with France. But having left 
 Genoa to proceed by land, he received warning at Ventimiglia 
 to proceed no farther, as his life would be in danger from the 
 adherents of the anti-pope, who were determined not to allow 
 messengers or letters from Urban to pass beyond the Alps. 
 He and the companion the Holy Father had given him took 
 counsel together, returned to Genoa, and sent to the pope for 
 further instructions. In reply they received orders to remain 
 where they were, preach against the schismatics, and keep the 
 republic attached to the papal interest. Rejoicing in his 
 escape, Father Raymond returned thanks to God, and com- 
 municated the intelligence to Catherine, who, however, deem- 
 ing that death under such circumstances would be an enviable 
 and glorious martyrdom, did not by any means feel disposed 
 to join in the Te Deum. In letters addressed to him at Pisa 
 and Genoa, she laments over his pusillanimous defection, and 
 reproves him for being so well satisfied to give up his mission. 
 The Lord, she says, has shown him his imperfection. He was 
 not worthy to fight in the battlefield. He was hid like a 
 child in the background, and then he willingly turned away 
 and gave God thanks for having condescended to his weak- 
 ness. Happy would it have been for her poor father's soul, 
 and for her own, if by the shedding of his blood he might have
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 189 
 
 cemented a stone in the edifice of the Holy Church. But he 
 fancied a greater burthen had been put upon him than he 
 could bear, and found means to cast down the load. This 
 she clearly sees, and only wishes that others did not remark it 
 as well. And now he seems to doubt everything, even her 
 concern for him. Where is the faith he once had and now 
 ought to have ? What has become of the certainty he used to 
 feel that, before anything happens, the event has been seen and 
 determined in the sight of God, not merely in affairs of great 
 moment, but even in the smallest occurrences? If he had 
 been faithful he would not have wavered, nor begun to have 
 any fears with regard to God or to her ; but, like a good son 
 filled with the spirit of obedience and animated with zeal, he 
 would have gone and done all that it was possible for him to 
 do. And if he could not have gone straight on with upright 
 carriage and head erect, he would -have crept on his hands and 
 knees. If he had not been able to travel as a religious, he would 
 have made his way as a pilgrim. If he had no money, he would 
 have begged his bread. And this sort of childlike obedience 
 would have advanced things in the sight of God and in the 
 hearts of men more than all human prudence could do. " I 
 am more solicitous about your soul," she continues, " than you 
 can imagine. I have an ardent desire to see you attain to 
 perfection. And therefore it is that I press you with so many 
 words, and constrain you, and reprove you, so as to make you 
 continually turn in upon yourself. I am constantly endeavour- 
 ing, and always will strive, to make you take up the burthen of 
 the perfect. Bear with my defects, and listen to my words 
 with good patience. And when your faults are pointed out, 
 rejoice and give thanks to the divine goodness who has given 
 you a friend to be concerned about you and to watch for you 
 in His presence." 
 
 Catherine was so distressed by the failure of this embassy 
 that she offered to go herself to France, but the pope would 
 not hear of her leaving Rome. There was nothing left for her 
 to do but to write, after some time, one of her fearless, eloquent, 
 pathetic letters to the king. It has been said that Petrarch 
 himself could not have written anything more beautiful than 
 her letter to Charles on this occasion. Whether the missive 
 ever reached the Court of France is doubtful, for the adherents 
 of Clement, as already observed, were careful to intercept all
 
 190 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 such communications. They were wise in their generation 
 thus to gain time for spreading reports injurious to Urban, and 
 preventing the true account of the papal election from becom- 
 ing known. By and by it was next to impossible to come at 
 the truth, such confusion prevailed that not only servants of 
 God but even saints lived, and without blame, in obedience to 
 the anti-pope. The papal briefs of which Father Raymond 
 had charge never got beyond the Alps. They were sent by 
 him to Siena, where they remain at the present day. 
 
 The pope now addressed a brief to several distinguished 
 ecclesiastics, members of different religious Orders, learned and 
 holy men, inviting them to come to Rome and lend their aid 
 in this crisis. Most of these were friends of the saint of Siena, 
 and letters from her accompanied the papal brief. To her 
 friend, the prior of Gorgona, she says that the true pope, 
 Urban vi., is calling the servants of God to his side to guide 
 himself and the Church by their counsel. He sends this brief. 
 And now let the prior do what it requires of him, and press 
 the others who are therein mentioned to come speedily. Let 
 everything be laid aside, no matter what it may be, and for the 
 love of God let their be no delay. She says to Don Giovanni 
 delle Celle that in such extremity as the present we should 
 remember the Holy Father, and when he asks with such 
 benignity and humility the help of the servants of God, they 
 ought to fly to his assistance. " Now I shall see," she con- 
 tinues, " whether you are truly inflamed with the love of God, 
 are sincerely anxious for the reformation of the holy Church, 
 and are really detached from your own consolations. Certain 
 I am that, if self-love is consumed in that furnace, you will not 
 be reluctant to forsake your cell and your own satisfaction ; but 
 will find a cell in the knowledge of yourself, and will be ready 
 to lay down your life there if necessary for the dear truth." 
 Father William of England and his companion, Frate Antonio 
 da Nizza, are admonished that if they do not quit their leafy 
 solitudes and come out on the field of battle they will act 
 contrary to the will of God. They need have no hesitation 
 in leaving their woods and deserts, for their are dark and wild 
 places enough here in Rome. No more slumbering. Now is 
 the time to be awake and watching. " Be under no apprehen- 
 sion," she tells certain hermits in Spoleto, "that you will 
 meet joy and great consolation here, for you come to suffer,
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 191 
 
 and not to enjoy any delight, except it be the delight of the 
 cross." 
 
 With no less zeal and energy did she labour to keep the 
 republics and cities of Italy in obedience to Urban. And in 
 this she succeeded. Florence remained faithful, as likewise 
 did the republics of Venice and Siena, and among others the 
 cities of Perugia and Bologna. Her letters home to Siena 
 show how anxious she is that her own city should assist the 
 pope in his distress. She writes to the Magnificent Signori, 
 the Defenders of the People and Commune of Siena, and to 
 the confraternity of the Hospital of La Scala, enclosing the 
 letters to Stefano Maconi, who is to read and profit by them, 
 and then carry the despatches to their address. He is to act 
 in the spirit of these letters, and to speak to every one accord- 
 ing as opportunity shall arise, constraining the Signori and all 
 who are concerned to lend their utmost aid to the vicar of 
 Christ and to the Church. " Endeavour not to be lukewarm," 
 she says to Stefano, " but ardent in urging the brothers and 
 heads of the confraternity to do all that is possible in regard to 
 the matter about which I write. If you were what you ought 
 to be, you would set the whole of Italy in a flame. It would 
 not be such a difficult thing to do." Finally she presses 
 Stefano himself to come, telling him that the blood of the 
 martyrs who with such a passion of love gave their life for the 
 sake of the Life itself boils up from the soil, calling him and 
 others now to Rome. The young man, who appears to 
 have been in some difficulty or trouble at the time, delayed 
 in answering the summons. One day, however, as he was 
 praying in the chapel under the Hospital of La Scala, an 
 interior voice warned him that Catherine was dying. Then 
 he hastened. 
 
 Meanwhile Rome itself had been the scene of atrocious 
 occurrences. Silvestro di Budes, who commanded Clement's 
 troops, suddenly entered the city by the Lateran gate, fell upon 
 a number of unarmed citizens holding an assembly in front of 
 the palace of the capitol, killed, among others, seven of the 
 bannerets, and, leaving Rome overwhelmed with consternation, 
 rushed out again. Next day the people, blind with rage, fell 
 upon the foreigners who were living peaceably in Rome, and 
 murdered several Breton priests, faithful adherents of the pope 
 and attached to his Court. Early in 1379 the army, encamped
 
 192 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 at Marino, threatened to enter Rome, which still remained 
 partly in the hands of the schismatics, for 'whom Rostagno 
 held the castle of St. Angelo. The pope had taken into his 
 service Alberico da Balbiano, Count of Cuneo, whose well- 
 trained band of four thousand infantry and four thousand light 
 horse all Italians was held in higher repute than any of the 
 foreign mercenaries, and was called the company of St. George. 
 Without waiting for the Clementisti to enter Rome, the Count 
 of Cuneo, suddenly sallying out, attacked the army encamped 
 at Marino, gained a signal victory, and, returning the same 
 evening to the city, inspired such terror that Rostagno 
 surrendered the castle of St. Angelo to the pope. St. 
 Catherine and Giovanni Cenci, senator of Rome, had, previous 
 to this, entered into negotiations with the governor in the 
 hope of inducing him to give up the castle. The Romans, 
 rejoicing in their deliverance from the French, attributed 
 their good fortune to the prayers of the saint ; while she, 
 desiring that solemn thanksgiving should be offered to 
 Almighty God, prayed the pope to order a solemn proces- 
 sion, in which he should himself take part. But her desire 
 was that a penitential spirit and Christian humility should 
 characterise an act undertaken at so sad a time. Accord- 
 ingly, the pope and clergy walked barefoot from St. Maria in 
 Trastevere to St. Peter's, and in this humble guise the 
 Sovereign Pontiff took possession of the palace of the Vatican, 
 which he had not been able to inhabit while the castle of St. 
 Angelo remained in the hands of his enemies. The multitude 
 who followed the pope' on this occasion were greatly edified 
 by a spectacle such as had not been seen for six hundred 
 years. A few days after this, on the sixth of May, Catherine 
 dictated four of the most remarkable letters she ever wrote, 
 addressed respectively to the King of France, the Count 
 Alberico, the Bannerets of Rome, and the Queen of Naples. 
 To the Bannerets she particularly recommends the care of 
 those who were wounded in the late battle; and she begs 
 them not to be ungrateful to Cenci, who acted with great 
 prudence and disinterestedness in connection with the affair of 
 the surrender of the castle of St. Angelo. 
 
 On the defeat of his troops, Clement fled in all haste from 
 the Roman territory and took refuge in Spelunca, a fortress 
 belonging to the Queen of Naples. Thence he went to the
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 193 
 
 Castle dell' Uovo, where he was received with obsequious 
 demonstrations of respect. Joanna met him in the archway of 
 the grand entrance, which was hung with rich draperies for the 
 occasion. He was conducted to a pontifical throne, and the 
 queen and her husband Otto, a great number of princes and 
 noble ladies, barons and grandees kissed his feet and paid him 
 all the honours usually reserved for the true head of the 
 Church. For some little space the anti-pope and the revolted 
 cardinals, Queen Joanna, and the obsequious courtiers held 
 high festival in the castle. But the Neapolitans, taking all this 
 in very bad part, rose in insurrection, and obliged Clement and 
 his cardinals to fly to Gaeta, whence they sailed for France. 
 On the 3oth of May the University of Paris, not without many 
 dissenting voices, however, decided for Clement. The anti- 
 pope and the college of French cardinals established their 
 Court in the lately deserted city on the Rhone ; and Avignon 
 for the next forty years continued to be a centre of interest to 
 the unhappily divided Christian world. 
 
 But now a new danger threatened the Ruler of Rome, He 
 had not been so fortunate as to conciliate the affection of his 
 own subjects. They rose in rebellion, rushed to the Vatican, 
 and in armed multitudes entered the pope's apartments. 
 Urban, who could not be accused of indecision or cowardice, 
 with truly regal and sacerdotal dignity prepared to meet the 
 wildly excited populace. Vested pontifically, crowned with the 
 tiara, and cross in hand, he ascended the throne and awaited 
 the approach of the loudly threatening assailants, who, behold- 
 ing so unexpected a vision, cast down their arms and fled 
 away. Outside, however, the tumult continued, and it was not 
 till Catherine, who had great influence with the people, went 
 among them, reasoned with them, and calmed down their 
 effervescence, that they were reconciled with their ruler. 
 
 The Queen of Naples, who, feigning to repent of her dis- 
 loyalty to Urban, had sent ambassadors to Rome, speedily 
 recalled her envoys, and ceased to dissemble her hostile 
 intentions. All means of conciliating her having failed, the 
 pope intrusted his defence to Charles Durazzo, cousin of 
 Louis of Hungary, and heir to Joanna ; and invested him with 
 the sovereignty of Naples, which was held as a fief of th' 
 Roman See. Joanna thereupon, taking counsel with Clemer 
 named as her successor Louis, Duke of Anjou, a warlike ? 
 
 13
 
 194 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 ambitious prince, who under these circumstances undertook 
 the conduct of the war with no little ardour. 
 
 By this time Catherine, who had intensely lived every hour 
 of her wonderful life of penance, prayer, physical suffering, and 
 mental anguish, caused by the difficulty and distress of the 
 times, found her vital energy well-nigh exhausted before she 
 entered on her thirty-third year. And yet, though she had 
 become like a spectre in appearance, she continued to go 
 through an extraordinary amount of fatiguing exertion rising 
 to hear Mass at dawn, and, after a couple of hours' rest, walking 
 to St. Peter's, where she would remain till vespers, praying for 
 the Holy Father and the people. With great difficulty, on the 
 Monday after Sexagesima Sunday (1380), she dictated to 
 Barduccio a letter to Urban. Two or three weeks later the 
 last letter of all was written. It was to Father Raymond, and 
 contained her last instructions. She desires him get her book 
 (the Dialogo) and any other writings he can find of hers, and, 
 having consulted with certain of the fathers and of her disciples 
 whom she names, do with them what shall be thought most 
 conducive to the glory of God. She enjoins him to do every- 
 thing he can for the spiritual family she leaves after her ; 
 holding them in the bond of chanty and perfect union, and 
 not allowing them to be dispersed like sheep without a 
 shepherd. For her own part, she hopes to be more useful to 
 them after her death than she was during her life. And he 
 must not be saddened by what she now says ; she does not 
 write thus to afflict him, but because she knows not what the 
 divine goodness intends to do with her, and she wishes to have 
 fulfilled her duty. " Be not grieved," she says, " that we are 
 separated from one another. You would certainly have been a 
 great consolation to me, but I have a still greater comfort and 
 a still greater joy in seeing the fruits you produce in the Holy 
 Church, and I conjure you to labour with more zeal than ever, 
 for in no time was the need so great." 
 
 Father Bartholomew, who was then prior of San Domenico 
 in Siena, was sent by the Provincial on some business to Rome. 
 He arrived in the city on Holy Saturday, and, not knowing 
 that Catherine was ill, went at once to her house. It nearly 
 broke his heart, he says, to see the state she was reduced to. 
 The moment she saw him, she tried to express her joy, but 
 could not speak. Only when he put his ear close to her
 
 A CITIZEN SAINT 195 
 
 mouth could he hear her faint answer to his inquiries: "All 
 was going on well," she said ; " thanks to our dear Saviour." 
 He told her the object of his journey, and said that, as the 
 next day would be the Feast of the Passover, he would like to 
 say Mass there, and give Holy Communion to her and her 
 spiritual children. She expressed a longing desire that the 
 Lord would permit her to communicate. Next morning he 
 heard her confession, gave her absolution, and offered the 
 Holy Sacrifice. No one expected that she would be able to 
 receive the Holy Eucharist. But to the indescribable joy of 
 all, she arose to do so. When the business that brought him 
 to Rome had been terminated, his companion urged him to 
 return home. But this, he told Catherine, he could not bear 
 to do. She said he knew well how great a consolation it was 
 to her to see again those whom God had given her and whom 
 she truly loved. It would be the greatest pleasure to her if 
 God would allow Father Raymond to be with her also. But 
 it was not His will that she should have them, and what He 
 ordained she also willed. He must go. Father Bartholomew 
 said he would do as she wished as soon as she recovered some 
 strength, and asked her to pray that if it were God's will he 
 should go she might become better before he set out. She 
 promised to do this, and next day when he returned she was 
 so much better that he began to be hopeful. She had 
 hitherto been unable to move, even to turn from one side to 
 the other ; but now she raised herself and received him with 
 so affectionate a greeting that he wept for joy. But this was 
 the sign of departure ; he knew it, and left Rome. 
 
 Barduccio, who never ceased watching her through all those 
 days of suffering, wrote an account of her last moments in a 
 letter to a nun in a convent near Florence, asking at the same 
 time the prayers of the religious for the poor unworthy writer, 
 now "left an orphan by the death of our glorious mother." 
 On the Sunday before the Feast of the Ascension she appeared 
 to be insensible, and the last sacraments were administered. 
 Then, after passing through an interior agony which lasted an 
 hour and a half, her countenance suddenly changed and a 
 heavenly radiance overspread her face. She had been reclin- 
 ing on Sister Alessia's shoulder, and now, trying to rise, they 
 helped her to get into a sitting posture, while still in the 
 same way supported. They had placed on a table near her
 
 196 A CITIZEN SAINT, 
 
 some relics and pictures of saints, with a crucifix in the centre j 
 and on the cross she fixed her gaze while pouring forth 
 sublime thoughts on the goodness of God, and humbly con- 
 fessing her faults. She asked the priest for absolution, and 
 prayed for the plenary indulgence granted to her by Gregory xr. 
 and Urban vi. Her petitions having been granted, she spoke 
 to several of those about her, many times asked her mother's 
 blessing, prayed for Urban, acknowledging him to be truly 
 the Sovereign Pontiff, and enjoining all her children to lay 
 down their life if necessary in testimony of his title, and 
 offered up supplications for all whom the Lord had given 
 her to love in a special manner. And then, making the sign 
 of the cross, she blessed them all. " Yes, Lord, Thou callest 
 me and I go to Thee," she said. " I go, not on account of 
 my merits, but because of Thy infinite mercy. And this 
 mercy I now implore in the name of Thy precious blood." 
 Commending her soul to God in the very words of the cruci- 
 fied Saviour, her face radiant as an angel's, she bowed her 
 head and expired. 
 
 Knowing what would be the grief and excitement of the 
 Roman people, who regarded Catherine as a great friend as 
 well as a saint, and wishing to indulge their own sorrow undis- 
 turbed, her disciples kept secret what had happened until the 
 next day (April 30), when the saint's body, having been 
 enclosed in a coffin of cypress wood, was carried on Stefano 
 Maconi's shoulders into the church of the Minerva. Soon the 
 concourse of people became so great that danger was appre- 
 hended, and the body was placed in the chapel of St. Dominick, 
 the railings of which were closed. Stefano and the other 
 disciples and companions kept guard there with pious care 
 until, three days after her death, the obsequies were performed 
 with great solemnity by command of the pope, and Catherine 
 of Siena was temporarily interred in the cemetery adjoining 
 the church. Some days later Giovanni Cenci, to testify 
 the veneration and gratitude of the Roman citizens, had 
 another funeral service conducted, with senatorial and civic 
 splendour. 
 
 And then began that life of earthly immortality which the 
 veneration of the Church and the affection of the people can 
 bestow. In a wonderfully short time her name was made 
 known in distant countries, and devotion to her became general.
 
 ' A CITIZEN SAINT r i$> 
 
 Her disciples many of them occupying a high position in the 
 Church and in the various Orders to which they belonged, 
 and not a few so saintly in their life as to be ranked among 
 the " Blessed " spread her fame wherever they went. That 
 regal character which commanded the loyal devotion of all 
 who approached her ; that truly liberal soul which understood 
 and sympathised with every state and condition of Christian 
 life ; that affluent nature in which the great acknowledged 
 an equal and the lowly recognised a friend, was certain to 
 leave a memory of which time would only test the endurance. 
 Long before her canonisation most of the cities of Italy kept 
 her anniversary as a day of special devotion and popular 
 festivity ; and memoirs written of her, and transcripts of her 
 writings, reached even to such remote places as Nuremberg, 
 Prague, Treves, Hungary, and England. When the schism 
 had ceased and peace was restored to the Church, the canon- 
 isation of St. Catherine, long delayed by the troubles of the 
 times, was proceeded with. To Pius n. (/Eneas Sylvius 
 Piccolomini) it was a source of pure delight, as he himself says 
 in the Bull of canonisation, that the sanctity of the Virgin of 
 Siena should be proclaimed by her fellow-citizen occupying 
 the chair of Peter. Petitions had been addressed to the Holy 
 See from many States and from distant lands praying that 
 religious homage to Catherine of Siena should be permitted 
 without longer delay, on account of the great devotion with 
 which she was regarded by the people. Among the petitioners 
 were Frederick Augustus, Emperor of the Romans, and 
 Paschal, Doge of Venice. 
 
 As time went on, the glorious arts of Italy, the masterpieces 
 of Fra Bartolomeo and of Sadoma, and the productions of the 
 later Sienese school, made the form of the saint and the attri- 
 butes which typify her spirit or recall the incidents of her life 
 the crown of thorns, the lantern, the lily, and the book 
 familiar to the admiring eye. The Aldine edition of her letters, 
 and Gigli's collection of her works, annotated with extraor- 
 dinary copiousness and care by the Jesuit Father Burlamacchi, 
 render testimony to the literary and historic value of her 
 written remains. Florence and Siena, when nothing else was 
 left to quarrel over, fiercely fought about the place her works 
 should hold in the literature of Italy. But this contest of 
 taste, and strife of words, served only to attract the more
 
 198 A CITIZEN SAINT 
 
 attention to the noble teaching and pure style of one who was 
 a peacemaker indeed. 
 
 And in our own day history repeating itself Catherine's 
 name has been invoked in a way that sends a thrill of emotion 
 through the heart. When the clouds gathering over Pius the 
 Ninth's inheritance darkened the horizon, and cities and 
 territories of the Church's patrimony were filched away, and 
 treachery withdrew one by one the earthly supports of the 
 pontifical throne, Catherine, who had supported Gregory in 
 that momentous hour at Avignon, and had been summoned by 
 Urban to stand beside him in his dereliction, was called once 
 more to the City of the Apostles. In the month of April 
 1866 the senator and conservators committed themselves to 
 the protection of St. Catherine of Siena, and the Sovereign 
 Pontiff proclaimed her co-protectress of the city of Rome. 
 
 Thus through the centuries the name of the Seraphic Virgin 
 remains on the lips and in the hearts of the Christian people. 
 From the troubled earth to her heavenly home, voices, strong, 
 piercing, and harmonious, ascend to her day by day the call 
 of the Church, the prayers of the just, the cry of sinners 
 
 " ra pia JTinjo et intcrutre pro nobis a& geum."
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 I. 
 
 IN the latter days of August 1874 it was sadly whispered 
 abroad that John Henry Foley's career was drawing to a close, 
 and that before many suns had set England would be called 
 on to mourn the departure of a renowned artist of her school, 
 and Ireland suffer the loss of one of her most gifted sons. On 
 the 2yth of the same month, long, laudatory, and regretful 
 notices appeared in the London and Dublin journals; they 
 were obituary notices for the great sculptor was no more. 
 
 It was characteristic of Foley a man modest in manner, 
 personally unambitious, and a lover of quiet places that he 
 should ask to be laid, by loving hands and few, beneath a 
 grassy sod not far from the spot where he breathed his last. 
 But who can wonder that his expressed desire to rest in a grave 
 at Highgate should be overruled, and that a funeral ceremony 
 better proportioned to his celebrity, and a sepulchre more 
 honourable in the sight of the nation, should mark the esteem 
 in which his virtue was held and the pride which all felt in his 
 renown ? 
 
 Issuing from the priory at Hampstead, where the sculptor 
 had for some time resided, the funeral procession wound its 
 way through the thoroughfares of northern London; paused 
 before the studio in Osnaburgh Street, where the busiest years 
 of his laborious life had been spent ; and, lengthened there, 
 and again at Burlington House, by the accession of another 
 train of mourners, including representatives of the world of 
 literature and art, finally reached St. Paul's Cathedral, in the 
 
 199
 
 200 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 crypt of which, and in the "artists' corner," his remains were 
 assigned their last abode. Simple, yet impressive, was the 
 closing ceremonial, the troops of friends and the assistant 
 multitude alike felt the significance of the hour ; and, in the 
 midst of deep silence and flowing tears, the "latest lost" was 
 left in the companionship of Wren and Reynolds, Landseer, 
 Turner, Lawrence, and Barry. 
 
 Shortly before he expired Mr. Foley signed his last will and 
 testament. Having provided for his widow and two unmarried 
 sisters, he devised to the trustees of the Artists' Benevolent 
 Fund the property available after the life-interests had expired, 
 and made a bequest to Ireland. This bequest, too, was charac- 
 teristic of the man, for it displayed a princely way of conferring 
 gifts and a faithful love of the land that bore him. Far and 
 wide were scattered his master-works in bronze and marble. 
 There could be no recall of these from the far East, from the 
 halls, the galleries, the public places of the British Isles. But 
 the casts of his noble statues, magnificent groups, and monu- 
 mental relievi still filled and graced his studio; and these he 
 bequeathed to his birthplace, " in the proud desire," says Mr. 
 Teniswood, his friend and executor, " of forming a gallery of 
 his productions in his native city, and within the walls of that 
 institution to which he was indebted for his first art-teachings." 
 
 So precious a gift as this from the treasury of art was never 
 before offered to Ireland. Nor can we recall any bequest of 
 the kind worthy to be compared with it in magnitude, value, 
 and completeness, except the donation which Thorwaldsen 
 made to the people whose glory it was to honour his genius 
 and name him fellow-countryman. The Danish sculptor's 
 legacy to Copenhagen, and Foley's bequest to Dublin, are 
 parallel cases ; but the sequel affords not a parallel, but a 
 contrast. 
 
 Some of our readers may remember how contemporary 
 journals described the picturesque incidents attending the 
 return of Thorwaldsen after long years of absence in Rome, 
 the despatch of a war frigate to the Mediterranean to carry 
 home the artist and the casts of his woiks which he destined 
 for the capital city ; the arrival of the vessel, and her escort 
 through the Sound by the Danish and Swedish ships; the 
 mustering of the trades with their banners, and of the enthusi- 
 astic multitude on the shore ; and all the spontaneous greeting,
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 201 
 
 and all the well-devised pomp, which made the progress of the 
 Sculptor of the North, as was fitly said, like the return of a 
 monarch or a great conqueror after a glorious campaign. " No 
 doubt," observes the Revue des Deux Mondes, in recalling these 
 circumstances, " the tradesmen, the sailors, and the towns- 
 people of Copenhagen understood little of the chefs-dxuvres 
 of Thorwaldsen ; but they knew that he had made the name 
 of Denmark renowned in Europe, and it was for this they 
 received him as a king." 
 
 Such distinctions as royalty could bestow were added to the 
 honours of popular acclaim. Thorwaldsen was covered with 
 crosses and decorations ; he was made a Counsellor of State, 
 so that he might be received at the king's table without any 
 infringement of courtly etiquette ; and a guard of honour was 
 posted at his door. Nothing, in a word, was left undone that 
 could increase the dignity or add to the happiness of the artist's 
 declining years. When death came at last, an august cere- 
 monial accompanied his interment. Through streets strewn, 
 in Scandinavian fashion, with white sand and juniper leaves, 
 the military lining the route, and the companies of trades 
 standing by, with their banners covered with crape, a long pro- 
 cession passed, in which walked the royal princes and the 
 members of the Academy of Fine Arts, the officers of State, 
 the chiefs of the army and navy, and a vast multitude of the 
 citizens. At the door of the cathedral the king, in deep 
 mourning, received the coffin, while all that music and oratory 
 could do to enhance the solemnity of the last rites was offered 
 as a tribute to the genius of the departed. 
 
 For the reception of the treasures brought home by Thor- 
 waldsen the casts of his works and the objects of art he had 
 collected a suitable structure was erected ; and this, the 
 Thorwaldsen Museum, now forms one of the most interesting 
 public monuments in Northern Europe. 1 
 
 Foley's bequest to his native country would seem either to 
 have been bestowed on unappreciative recipients, or to have 
 bewildered by its splendour all who should have claimed its 
 
 1 Munich possesses a treasure of the same kind in the Schwanthaler 
 Museum the Bavarian sculptor having bequeathed to the Academy the 
 models of his works and his studio. The street in which the building 
 stands is called the Schwanthalerstrasse, and the museum is open to the 
 public,
 
 202 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 custody. The Royal Dublin Society, far from hastening to 
 obtain possession of the gift, appeared to dread nothing so 
 much as having it forced on their acceptance they avowed 
 their inability to provide space for the casts. The Corporation 
 of Dublin refused to take charge of any of the models. The 
 governors and guardians of the National Gallery of Ireland 
 made no effort, that we are aware of, to obtain, even for a time, 
 the custody of a selection of these statues and groups, which 
 would have made a fairer show, and one more truly "national," 
 than they are likely ever to exhibit in their halls. No citizen 
 of wealth and position came forward to inaugurate a scheme 
 and head a subscription for providing at least a weather-tight 
 shelter in which these perishable, yet beautiful, works might be 
 housed. As for the general public, it is needless to say, they 
 were too inexperienced and uneducated in such matters to 
 understand the disgrace inflicted on the national character by 
 the supineness, in this instance, of public bodies and influential 
 men. 
 
 Year after year passed by ; no gallery not even a shed 
 was erected for the models of the now world-famous works. 
 Foley's gift was fast running the risk of becoming a lapsed 
 legacy ; for the bequest was followed by a provision that, should 
 the Royal Dublin Society not accept the models, they should 
 be disposed of by gift, as the executors might think fit. Regret 
 had already been expressed by a London organ that the capital 
 of England did not possess copies of some at least of Foley's 
 greatest works, such as Hardinge and Outram, Goldsmith and 
 Burke. Undoubtedly Manchester and Liverpool, as well as 
 London, would have rejoiced if a chance of possessing the 
 Foley collection had been offered to their schools. Humiliat- 
 ing to our own country though the alternative might be, no 
 rational objection could be urged if, Dublin having forfeited 
 her claim, the splendid collection had been bestowed on a 
 more art-loving city, to enrich an already founded school or 
 start into life a new institute of art. 
 
 At length one day, about five years after the artist's death, 
 the full-size models of Hampden and Selden, a Parsee Digni- 
 tary, and the Youth at a Stream ; the group of Ino and the 
 Infant Bacchus, and its companion, The Mother; the ideal 
 figure of Egeria, and a number of portrait busts a selection, 
 in fact, of the casts met the astonished gaze of the library
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 203 
 
 readers who passed through the hall of Leinster House on 
 their way to the reading-rooms. No announcement of the 
 arrival of the works had appeared in the newspapers, and the 
 few who chanced to see them when first erected in the hall 
 were left to conjecture as to how and by whom they had been 
 in the end secured for Ireland. There was reason to be 
 thankful that some were at last obtained and safely housed, 
 even though they stood in a position where they were all but 
 hidden from the general view, and could be of little use to the 
 art student. 
 
 Afterwards it transpired that the Science and Art Depart- 
 ment, London, had repaired, packed, and despatched to 
 Dublin this selection of the casts at the cost of a few hundred 
 pounds. Having done so much, the Commissioners offered 
 the Corporation of Dublin any of the remaining statues they 
 might select, on condition that they should pay the cost of 
 packing and removing them. The Corporation met and dis- 
 cussed the subject. They were afraid that if they brought 
 over the statues they would be obliged to house them, and they 
 could not undertake to provide a house ; they were unable to 
 make up their mind what to do, and they could not give an 
 immediate answer. 1 
 
 Since this discussion took place in the City Hall, the Cor- 
 
 1 The following report of the proceedings appeared in the Fruatattt 
 Journal, Sept. 2, 1879 : 
 
 " The Town Clerk read a letter from the Science and Art Department, 
 London, stating that they are unable, with the means at their disposal, 
 to repair and send to the Science and Art Museum in Dublin all the casts 
 bequeathed by the late Mr. Foley, R. A., or to provide space for them; 
 that a committee of sculptors has been appointed to make a selection of 
 such as could be put in a state for exhibition for ^500, and the Lords 
 Commissioners of Her Majesty's Treasury desire to know if the Corporation 
 of Dublin will have any of the statues on the same terms as they will be 
 offered to schools of art, namely, that they shall defray the cost of packing 
 and removing them. 
 
 " Mr. Gray moved 'That the letter be acknowledged, saying that the 
 matter is under consideration ; that it be referred to the General Purposes 
 Committee for report, the law agent to ascertain if the Corporation can 
 legally spend any money for the proposed purposes, and write to the Science 
 and Art Department to ascertain whether, if the Corporation brought the 
 models over, or any of them, the department would take possession of 
 them.' It would be a very lamentable thing if these models were lost ; 
 but if the Corporation were to bring them over, they would have to decide 
 where they could put them, and he knew of no place. They would have to
 
 204 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 poration, at least as far as \ve know, have taken no steps with 
 regard to the Foley casts. 1 The collection sheltered in the halls, 
 anterooms, and passages of Leinster House has been increased 
 by the addition of other beautiful works by our sculptor, many, 
 and among them some of the most important of all, are, how- 
 ever, still missing ; and the only hope that remains of seeing 
 Folej's munificent gift in its entirety enriching the city of his 
 birth and his affections seems to be founded on the chance 
 that in time to come the Science and Art Department may 
 extend its charity to the casts without exception, and display the 
 whole collection in the contemplated new buildings adjoining 
 Leinster House. ' Perhaps,'' says a thoughtful writer, referring 
 to the sculptor's bequest, " there is not a city in the world 
 so devoid of what may be called filial gifts as Dublin. Strangers 
 can be shown churches built by the people, and cathedrals 
 restored by individuals, fine buildings and fine statues, but 
 there is really but one bequest by a great Irishman to his people." 
 " This," he continues, " has arisen from a variety of causes, 
 and in many cases from the fact that great Irishmen contrive 
 somehow to live in England, and to die there in forgetfulness 
 of their own land. Foley was not one of this kind. He 
 desired to remember the place where his art education was 
 received, and to offer to the youth of to-day incentives to the 
 prosecution of the studies which led him into the foremost 
 ranks of modern sculptors." 2 
 
 II. 
 
 UNEVENTFUL in the ordinary sense of the word, that is to say, 
 unmarked by extraordinary vicissitudes or strikingly picturesque 
 
 get information before they could make up their minds. He thought, 
 under the circumstances, that the Government might have given a larger 
 amount than ^500 ; but it was mentioned in the House by him, and they 
 seemed to think they were doing a very generous thing in giving any money 
 at all. 
 
 " Mr. A. O'Neill seconded the resolution." 
 
 1 [Since this article was written, several casts of Foley's finest works 
 have been placed in the Round Room (or Ball Room) of the Lord 
 Mayor's official residence, the Mansion House, in Publin, ED.] 
 Evening Mail^ Sept. 8, 1879,
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A> 705 
 
 incidents, the history of our sculptor abounds nevertheless in 
 noteworthy and interesting points. In the salient features of 
 his character he bore a striking resemblance to the famous 
 masters of his art in the earlier and the later schools, while 
 certain circumstances in his education as an artist, and in his 
 rapid advance to the height of a well-assured fame, mark his 
 career as exceptional. These traits of resemblance, and these 
 points of divergence will be sufficiently apparent in the sketch 
 which we now proceed to give. As no regular biography of 
 the artist has yet been published, although, if report spoke truly, 
 a memoir was undertaken some time ago by an old and valued 
 friend well qualified for the task, we shall take the outline of 
 the narrative from such necessarily meagre notices as have 
 from time to time appeared in print ; from recollections com- 
 municated in conversatson by some who knew him in his youth, 
 or enjoyed his intimacy in maturer years ; and from copious 
 notes kindly given to us by a member of Mr. Foley's immediate 
 family. 
 
 John Henry, son of Jesse and Eliza Foley, was born on the 
 24th of May 1818, at 6 Montgomery Street, in the city of 
 Dublin, and was baptized at St. Thomas's parish church on the 
 7th of June following. His father, a native of Winchester, had 
 settled early in life in Dublin, and married a lady whose maiden 
 name, Byrne (properly O'Byrne), leaves no doubt as to her 
 Milesian descent. 1 They had a numerous family of children, 
 six of whom were born in the house in Montgomery Street. 
 The neighbourhood was at that time respectable, and of compara- 
 tively recent origin, dating from the building of the new Custom 
 House. Edward and John Smith, the sculptors, lived in 
 Montgomery Street ; Gandon the architect had resided not far 
 off; and several of the master-workmen employed in finishing 
 and decorating the splendid structure on the riverside (for- 
 mally opened in 1791, but not completed in all its beauty until 
 many years later) settled in and around the street just named. 
 
 1 The Byrnes are of the house of Heremon, who was son of Milesius and 
 sole king of Ireland. Foley, too, it maybe remarked, is an Irish name. 
 The Foleys (O'Fodhlaclhas) were a race of repute in the south of Ireland 
 previous to the Anglo-Norman invasion, and owners of a tract of land in 
 the present county of Waterford, where the name is still of frequent occur- 
 rence. See "The Topographical Poems of O'Dubhagain and O'Huidhrin," 
 edited for the Irish Archaeological and Celtic Society by John O'Donovan, 
 LL.D.
 
 206 . JOHN HENRY FOLEY, &.A. 
 
 "These high-class " hands," or their children, still occupied 
 the same quarters when the Foleys formed a part of the 
 population. The^ tone of the place, at once artistic and 
 industrial, was not without a jovial strain, as the frequenters 
 of the Curlew Tavern and kindred establishments could 
 testify. 
 
 Jesse Foley did not himself belong to the class of artist-work- 
 men, though he had taste for designing, and could model vases 
 and suchlike graceful objects. He was employed in a glass 
 manufactory. Nevertheless, the atmosphere of art which per- 
 vaded the Custom House district penetrated into the very 
 homes of the young Foleys, for under the same roof resided 
 their step-grandfather, Benjamin Schrowder, a sculptor by 
 profession. 
 
 Schrowder was an original character, a native of Winchelsea, 
 and descended from the poet Milton on the maternal side. 
 Invited to do sculpture-work on the new Custom House, he 
 removed to Dublin, with his first wife, Lavinia, and set up house 
 in a quarter occupied by the artists and master-workmen em- 
 ployed on the building. Most of the emblematic river-gods 
 designed by Edward Smith were carved by Schrowder. When 
 the work he had been engaged for was completed, he still 
 remained and took orders on his own account. His children 
 died young, and before many years had passed by his wife also 
 died, and was buried in old St. George's churchyard. After 
 some time the artist married Mrs. Foley's mother, Mrs. Byrne, 
 and set up his workshop at 6 Montgomery Street. There the 
 grandfather, with his long silvery locks, and surrounded with 
 his tools, models, and marbles, was a familiar and venerable 
 figure in the eyes of the younger generation of the household, 
 one of whom was destined to occupy a distinguished, and 
 another a pre-eminent, position in the world of art. Whatever 
 his present content might be, the old man did not cease to 
 cherish the tenderest affection for the Lavinia he had lost, and 
 he never would leave Dublin lest he should die at a distance 
 from her grave. Once his friends in Winchelsea sent him word 
 that a sister of his seemed disposed to make her will in his 
 favour, and at the same time they suggested that he should 
 revisit his native place, and show that he was still in the land of 
 the living. The kindly-meant hint was, however, not attended 
 to. Even the prospect of inheriting some thousands of pounds
 
 JOHN HENRY fOLEY, R.A. 207- 
 
 was not a sufficient temptation to lure him away from the 
 neighbourhood of old St. George's. Perceiving his indifference, 
 the testator tightened her hand. Still, she bequeathed him a 
 considerable sum of money, and some houses in Winchelsea, 
 in the hope that, as it was in that city he had first met his lost 
 wife, he might be induced to return and take up his residence 
 there. But to the very end Lavinia's last resting-place occu- 
 pied his thoughts. He modelled a bust of himself, a medallion 
 on a black slab, which he intended should be erected as a 
 mural monument in old St. George's. However, as a large sum 
 was demanded for permission to erect the memorial within the 
 walls of the church, the work did not attain to its destination. 
 Benjamin Schrowder died in 1826, and his memory is simply 
 preserved by the inscribed stone that marks the place of his 
 interment in the churchyard. 
 
 Jesse and Eliza Foley's children, boys and girls, were kept 
 much at home, and tenderly and carefully watched over by 
 their mother. Something occurred which made the father of 
 the family think that strange companions were no advantage 
 to the children, and he one day gave orders that Edward, his 
 eldest son, should be taken from the seminary he attended, 
 and that neither he nor the other children should go to any 
 school. " I can myself," he said, " teach them writing and 
 arithmetic, and I suppose their mother can manage the rest." 
 From that day forth school was kept regularly every day in a 
 room set apart for the purpose. The mother's discipline was 
 strict, her word was law, but the children loved her greatly. 
 As usually happens in a family group, some were quick and 
 diligent, while others were slow and idle. All the teacher's 
 zeal, all the parent's affection, could not coax or goad every 
 member of the little class up to the schoolroom standard. 
 Neither could any domestic prophet foretell which would be 
 in the end the greater, the youth all sense and industry, or 
 the boy who seemed to have no capacity for anything but 
 play. 
 
 Edward, the elder, but not the most illustrious of the sculp- 
 tor's sons, was naturally of a studious disposition. He early 
 discovered a talent for modelling, and under grandfather 
 Schrowder's tuition made satisfactory progress. When about 
 thirteen years of age, his aged instructor apprenticed him to 
 John Smith, Master of the Dublin Society's School of Sculpture,
 
 2o8 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 and son of the more celebrated Edward Smith. 1 During the 
 first year he was to receive no payment, during the second he 
 should receive six shillings a week, and afterwards his salary 
 would be raised to seventeen and sixpence. This was as much 
 encouragement as could be expected, and Edward worked most 
 industriously, often staying at home on Sundays to model 
 groups of foliage and follow up his studies. He became inti- 
 mate with Mr. Smith's family, and, young as he was, formed 
 an attachment to one of the daughters of the house, whom he 
 persuaded to engage herself to him. Before the term of 
 apprenticeship expired, the headmaster found himself unable 
 to provide work for Edward, who, seeing there was no use in 
 remaining under such circumstances, made up his mind to go 
 to London in search of employment. He was then a stripling of 
 seventeen, looking even younger than his years ; but in order 
 to "make a man of himself" he bought a tall hat, and, thus 
 accoutred, he felt more confidence in facing the great world. 
 On his arrival in London he presented himself at the studio of 
 an eminent sculptor and asked for employment, stating that he 
 was accustomed to work on marble. " Marble ! " exclaimed 
 the artist, " pray do you know the value of a marble bust ? and 
 have you any idea what the consequences would be if you 
 spoiled such a work?" The youth answered modestly, but 
 
 1 Edward and John Smith receive an appreciative notice in the new 
 edition of Redgrave's Dictionary of Artists of the British School, The 
 elder Smith, the writer tells us, " had for some time received a large 
 income, but had saved nothing, and he was glad to accept, with a salary of 
 .100 a year, the office of Master of the Dublin School of Sculpture, which 
 the Dublin Society established in 1806, and to hold the office till his death, 
 when he was succeeded by his son John. He was born, studied, lived only 
 in Ireland, and died there towards the end of 1812. Vigorous, original, 
 and inventive, he was eminently distinguished as an Irish artist, and both 
 father and son were remarkable for their genius and their misfortunes." 
 The same authority names, as works of incontestable merit, Edward 
 Smith's statues of Clemency, Justice, Moses, Mercy, and Minerva, on the 
 noble portico of the Four Courts. For the Custom House, besides other 
 works, he designed and executed two of the figures on the south portico, 
 namely, Plenty and Manufacture ; the colossal statue of Commerce (easily-, 
 and indeed usually, mistaken for Hope) surmounting the cupola ; twelve 
 designs, representing the rivers of Ireland and the produce of the country 
 through which they flow, executed in Portland stone ; the groups of the 
 royal arms ; and the relievo in the tympanum of the south portico, of 
 Neptune bringing treasures to Hibernia. The three noble figures on the 
 eastern pediment of the Bank Justice, Wisdom, and Liberty are also by 
 Edward Smith.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 209 
 
 was not engaged. Directing his steps to another studio, he 
 made a like request, when he found himself in the presence of 
 the master. " You little codger ! " cried the latter, setting his 
 arms akimbo, and looking the lad straight in the face, " do 
 you fancy I am such a fool as to put you on marble ? " 
 
 Discouraged by the ill-success of his applications, Edward 
 wrote home saying that he despaired of getting work in London, 
 and thought he should go to Rome ! His mother was much 
 distressed at this news, and tried to encourage him to be patient 
 for a while longer. After a little he wrote again, and had the 
 good news to give that Mr. Behnes had taken him in and em- 
 ployed him on odds and ends. A coat-of-arms ordered by a 
 nobleman was intrusted to the young carver, and he took extra- 
 ordinary pains in giving it the highest finish. The nobleman 
 was pleased, and the master highly commended the youth, 
 saying that he himself should probably not have done it so well, 
 as certainly he should not have taken so much pains. An 
 engagement as assistant in this studio, at a salary of four pounds 
 a week, set the aspiring sculptor on a safe and sure road to 
 reputation and success. 
 
 ^. Meanwhile John Foley, the future great man of the name, 
 was still a boy at his mother's side in the little domestic school 
 at Montgomery Street. What he was principally remarkable 
 for in his early boyhood was idleness. His sister would do his 
 sums for him to save him from his father's displeasure, and 
 his mother would shed tears of anxiety over him, not knowing 
 what was to become of so unpromising a child. His only 
 anxiety seemed to be to get away to play in the neighbouring 
 fields, whence he would return with his clothes covered with 
 the green slime of the ditches. All the time, however, he was 
 a most lovable boy. Family affection had a strong hold on 
 him ; he idolised his mother, and with his brothers and sisters 
 he was gentle, playful, and sympathetic in a remarkable degree. 
 A favourite sister still cherishes the recollection of his boyish 
 attention to her pleasures, and remembers how he took an 
 interest even in her dolls. Whenever an addition was made 
 to the miniature family, John would christen the new-comer, 
 providing the cake and all that was necessary for the due 
 celebration of the juvenile fete. 
 
 Still, in spite of idleness and thoughtlessness, the genius of art 
 early began to work within him, and fill his mind with dreams
 
 210 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 of the great things he should accomplish when he grew to be a 
 man and a sculptor. On one occasion an old schoolmaster 
 took him out with another boy l for a holiday ramble. It was 
 St. Stephen's Day, and a visit to the Museum of the Royal 
 Dublin Society was agreed on. In those days the Natural 
 History collection was located in a suite of rooms on the second 
 storey of Leinster House, and the approach was through the 
 great hall, where stood a cast of Apollo Belvidere. As the 
 little party passed on, Foley pointed to the statue and ex- 
 claimed, "This is the sort of thing I'll spend my life at ! " 
 
 When about twelve years of age, the lad suddenly took a 
 serious turn and began to read everything that came in his 
 way. Light literature did not meet him as a stumblingblock 
 on the road to information, for books of a trivial and dissipat- 
 ing kind had no place in the house. The only novel ever 
 allowed was the Vicar of Wakefield. Newspaper?, as a matter 
 of course, the children were not permitted to read. More 
 solid, therefore, than varied was the family library ; and when 
 John began to cultivate a taste for reading, he had to make the 
 most of the History of England, Youngs Night Thoughts, Her- 
 vefs Meditations, selections from Shakespeare, and the like. 
 Just about the same time, he began to exhibit a remarkable 
 aptitude for mechanical work. His father, who had not enjoyed 
 good health of late years, did little more when at home than 
 cultivate his pretty garden, but John now began to make him- 
 self very useful in the house. If a pane of glass were wanting, 
 he put one in ; if repairs had to be done, he did them ; and, 
 over and above, he amused himself making little chairs and 
 tables for his sister. Mrs. Foley, perceiving that he showed 
 such cleverness in this way, thought that it might be well to 
 bind him to a carpenter or upholsterer. This reached his ears, 
 and, not agreeing in the least with his Apollo Belvidere dream, 
 made him very uneasy. " If my mother says she intends to do 
 this," he remarked to his sister, " she will surely do it. But," 
 he added in a whisper, " I'll run away." 
 
 Though the artist grandfather, who might have befriended 
 him in such a strait, was now no more, and Edward the artist 
 brother was far away, John fortunately escaped being bound to 
 
 1 J. J. M'Carthy, afterwards the very eminent architect to whom Ireland 
 owes the noble cathedral of Killarney, the beautiful chapel at the Glasnevin 
 cemetery, and other admired structures.
 
 JOffN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 21 r 
 
 a tradesman. When he was about thirteen, he was allowed to 
 attend the art schools of the Royal Dublin Society. Entering 
 several classes, and practising assiduously from nine o'clock in 
 the morning until three in the afternoon, he made rapid and 
 remarkable progress, carrying off prizes in modelling, architec- 
 tural drawing, studies of the human form, ornamental design, 
 and other branches of study. In 1833 he won the head prize 
 in each of the four schools. An incident which occurred at this 
 date is characteristic of the artist boy (who clearly was father 
 to the artist man), and must not be omitted here. A piece of 
 foliage which he had modelled for the competition was mis- 
 chievously destroyed by another boy, and he returned home 
 greatly fretted, for the prizes were to be adjudged at three 
 o'clock next day. His mother fully shared his disappointment, 
 but tried to make light of the matter, while fully allowing that 
 he was the victim of a mischievous and ill-natured act. After 
 some time, John suddenly said, " Mother, will you give me a 
 pair of candles ? " Mrs. Foley asked what he wanted the candles 
 for, and he replied, " I have made up my mind to remain in 
 the school all night and model another piece." His mother 
 endeavoured to dissuade him, telling him it would be a dreadful 
 thing to do, and he would certainly be discovered. She gave 
 him the candles, however, and in the morning he set out as usual* 
 When the hour came for closing the school, he hid himself 
 behind one of the great casts. The porter appeared at the 
 door, glanced round the room to see that all was right, and, per- 
 ceiving nothing unusual, turned the key and departed. During 
 the night the model was completed. 
 
 An uncle of the young artist who happened to be staying in 
 town at this time took up Sounders' Neivs-Letter one morning. 
 " What is this,'"' he exclaimed as he glanced down the column : 
 " John Foley, adjudged the four head prizes ! " And then, 
 addressing the poor mother, who now cried for joy over the 
 boy who had once given her cause to shed tears of anxiety, he 
 congratulated her on having a son of whom she could be so 
 justly proud. 
 
 Edward, hearing of his younger brother's success, wrote from 
 London to have John sent over at once to share his home, and 
 become a student at the Royal Academy. This proposal could 
 not possibly be rejected, though it cost the affectionate lad not 
 a little to say good-bye to the family circle for a lengthened
 
 212 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 period. Much weeping there was on the part of the brothers 
 and sisters, but John kept up as brave a face as he could, and 
 acted as the consoler of the rest. " Now, don't cry," he said 
 to one of his sisters ; " I'll be a great man some day, and I'll 
 buy you a silk dress ! " 
 
 In March 1834 he arrived in London, and, devoting him- 
 self exclusively to sculpture, studied with the same application 
 he had displayed while attending the Dublin schools. His 
 model of the Death of Abel obtained him the studentship 
 of the Royal Academy for ten years. He won also the large 
 silver medal and books for a model from life. In the early 
 days of his residence in London, he wrote home that he was 
 devoting himself to music and poetry as well as to plastic art ; 
 and some pretty verses addressed to his mother, together with 
 a song entitled " Past and Present," were forwarded as a proof 
 that he was advancing in these kindred studies. When he was 
 about twenty years of age, he had a severe attack of jaundice, 
 brought on by over-work. It would appear that he was not 
 judiciously treated on this occasion, but was kept for many weeks 
 on low diet, when he should have had generous nourishment. 
 At anyrate his complexion, which was naturally a clear red and 
 white, became rather swarthy, and his figure lost something of its 
 original robustness. Still he continued what would be termed 
 a very fine young man, standing five feet seven inches in height. 
 On recovering from this attack, he set about pulling up for lost 
 time, and progressed with such amazing rapidity that, in 1839, 
 he appeared as a contributor to the Exhibition at the Royal 
 Academy. On that occasion his models of Innocence and 
 the Death of Abel obtained praise enough to turn the head 
 of a young aspirant less devoted than John Foley to art for 
 art's sake, and less genuinely inspired with the purpose of 
 stopping short of nothing but supreme excellence. 
 
 This first public success was immediately followed by the 
 production of a classic work, Ino and the Infant Bacchus, 
 which cast into the shade the compositions just named, and 
 placed the sculptor, at twenty-two years of age, in the first rank 
 of living artists. Ino, half-reclining, raises her right arm, which 
 gracefully curves above her head, and seems about to drop a 
 cluster of grapes, lightly held between the finger and thumb, 
 into the outstretched arms of the baby Bacchus, extended 
 in childlike fashion on his back, and encircled by her left
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLZY, R.A. 213 
 
 arm. 1 The model of this exquisite group, exhibited in 1 840, was 
 eventually executed in marble for the Earl of Ellesmere, whose 
 gallery at Bridgewater House it now adorns. Then came the 
 Death of Lear in 1841, the Houseless Wanderer in 1842, 
 and two years later the strikingly original figure of a Youth 
 at the Stream. 
 
 While residing with his brother, who had married Miss 
 Smith, the object of his early affection, and lived in Devonshire 
 Street, Portland Place, 2 John Foley, in conjunction with another 
 sculptor, rented a house built purposely for studios in Edward 
 Street, Hampstead Road. Here it was, if we are not mistaken, 
 that Mr. S. C. Hall made the acquaintance of his gifted fellow- 
 countryman, and received the impressions (afterwards con- 
 firmed in closer intercourse) which some years later were so 
 agreeably jotted down in his Recollections. Another occupant 
 of the small parlour in which he was received, Mr. Hall tells us, 
 was the Ino, much admired, but not then commissioned in 
 marble. The world still lay before the man whose genius had 
 imagined and whose hand had moulded this ideal form, yet 
 he did not look like one hastening to storm the citadel of fame. 
 Modest he was to a degree bordering on self-distrust, but "he 
 was graceful in his manners and in every sentiment and 
 sensation." 
 
 From that day forth Mr. Hall proved himself a sympathetic 
 and helpful friend. One of the first engravings of statuary 
 given in the Art Journal was Foley's Ino and Bacchus, and 
 
 1 Another distinguished artist of the British School, Richard Wyatt, has 
 treated this subject, though in a totally different manner. It would be 
 interesting to study the two interpretations of the old-word story if they 
 could be seen together. Mrs. Jameson, in the Handbook to the Courts of 
 Modern Sculpture, speaking of Wyatt's Ino, makes the following re- 
 marks : " She is seated, and the boy-god, who has flung himself against 
 her knee, is looking up in her face. Clusters of grapes are near them. 
 When Bacchus lost his mother, Semele, he was confided by Zeus (Jove) to 
 the care of Ino, his aunt, who nursed him tenderly and fed him with grapes ; 
 after her death Ino was rendered immortal by her divine nurseling, and 
 worshipped as a sea-nymph under the name of Leucothea. Another treat- 
 ment of this subject may be remembered in the beautiful group by Foley." 
 
 - Edward Foley made his way successfully in the English capital. He 
 exhibited at the Royal Academy several original and graceful works, 
 among them being /Enone, Penelope, Helen of Troy, and the Morning 
 Star. His portrait busts, says a good authority, especially of ladies, were 
 highly esteemed. He died in the early part of 1874, tnat i s > some 
 months before his famous brother.
 
 214 JOHX HENRY FOLEV, R.A. 
 
 this was succeeded as time went on by engravings of the sculp- 
 tor's works according as they were produced. Thus his name 
 became more widely kno\vn, and many who perhaps had no 
 opportunity of seeing his work in bronze and marble were, by 
 means of the Art Journal engravings, enabled in some degree 
 to estimate the beauty of these masterpieces. 
 
 Shortly after the Youth was modelled, Mr. Foley, who had 
 already won the golden opinions of his brother artists, and of 
 that small fraternity of art-lovers whose intelligent admiration 
 is an inspiriting foretaste of a glorious fame, was afforded a 
 splendid opportunity of exhibiting to the greater world his titles 
 to that position of eminence which, with all his genuine modesty, 
 he was conscious he could justly claim. The great national 
 undertaking of erecting new Houses of Parliament at West- 
 minister having been now for some time in progress, the artistic 
 decorations of the halls, galleries, corridors, and porches had 
 to be seriously considered. A fine field was offered to the 
 painters of the day, and the sculptors should also be invited 
 to put forth their best efforts. One of the first projects decided 
 on was that St. Stephen's Hall, a stately chamber occupying 
 the site of St. Stephen's Chapel, and forming one of the 
 approaches to the House of Lords, should be adorned with 
 marble statues of great men, whose voice had been heard in 
 the chambers of the legislature, and whose influence had con- 
 trolled the nation's destiny. A competition was invited ; the 
 sculptors of England almost unanimously entered into it, and 
 an exhibition was held at Westminster Hall, to which the 
 artists sent models of the statues or groups they had already 
 executed. Mr. Foley sent, as his credentials, Ino and the 
 Youth. The result of the competition was that three sculp- 
 tors received prizes, and were named at the same time to design 
 and cut in marble statues for St. Stephen's Hall. 
 
 John Foley was one of the three thus honourably distin- 
 guished, and the commissions he received were for the statues 
 of Hampden and Selden. Good reason he had to be satisfied 
 with the subjects on which, at the nation's behest, he was now 
 to exercise his art. In the Hampden especially, he had 
 full scope for the display of grace and power in true historic 
 portraiture. His success was undoubted. This figure is the 
 most striking of all the twelve marshalled in St. Stephen's Hall, 
 and, moreover, is allowed to be one of the most beautiful
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 215 
 
 portrait statues in modern art. Foley's Hampden is as little 
 " like a stony image, cold and dumb," as can be imagined; it 
 affects one like the living presence of a great soul animating a 
 noble physiognomy and a form all dignity and grace. This 
 portrait in stone has been thus well described by Mr. Cosmo 
 Monkhouse : 
 
 " When we consider the marvellous collection of noble 
 qualities which this man (Hampden) undoubtedly possessed, it 
 appears an almost hopeless task to attempt to represent them 
 in a single still white figure ; but Foley has put them all, and 
 more, into his work. There is birth in his bearing, knowledge 
 and power in his head, taste in his dress, inflexibility of purpose 
 in his mouth. . . . But, as we have said, there is more. The 
 artist has managed to convey the impression of the soldier and 
 the statesman, the commander and the orator ; and in the per- 
 fectly developed figure and the thoughtful brow, you find 
 Hampden's own ideal of the ' old English gentleman,' ' All 
 summer in the field, all winter in his study.' But there is even 
 more than this, that wonderful union of power with modesty, 
 the man that never obtruded himself, but was always equal to 
 every emergency when it arose, that infinite reserve of force 
 which could control itself. More than this even, there is pre- 
 cisely that union of the qualities for which we respectively 
 admire both parties in that great warfare, the chivalry and 
 absence of vulgarity of the Royalist, and that sternness of prin- 
 ciple of the Roundhead, which is suggested partly by the 
 costume, which has neither the effeminacy of the one, nor the 
 ugliness of the other, and by the attitude, which is as graceful 
 as that of Charles I., and as uncompromising as that of Crom- 
 welL Even yet more, by the gentleness of his face and the 
 bareness of his sword, the figure shows the man who would 
 postpone war till honour compelled it, but who, in Claren- 
 don's celebrated words, ' when he drew the sword, threw away 
 the scabbard.' " l 
 
 Hampden, finished in 1847, won f r ^ e sculptor fame, 
 honours, and commissions. This year was also the date of 
 another happy event, namely, his marriage ; on which occasion 
 he took a lease of a house in Osnaburgh Street, and there fixed 
 his residence and studio. One thing was still wanting to his 
 happiness. He had often declared that he should never be 
 
 1 Critical and Illustrative Notes to the works of John Henry Foley, R.A.
 
 216 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 satisfied until his mother came to live with him. Now her 
 room and her arm-chair were got ready; and he counted on 
 having her under his roof, to end her days in peace and witness 
 her once idle boy's honourable success. But this was not to 
 be. Just then the poor mother was attacked with a fatal illness, 
 and her sons, summoned from London to her bedside, arrived, 
 to their great sorrow, too late to see her before she departed. 
 
 In 1849 -M r - Foley was elected an Associate of the Royal 
 Academy. The Mother, a companion group to Ino and 
 Bacchus, was exhibited in 1851. Selden was placed in St. 
 Stephen's Hall, near Hampden, in 1853. An ideal figure 
 of Egeria was designed and cut in marble for the Mansion 
 House in 1854, and an historic figure of Caractacus, like- 
 wise commissioned by the Corporation of London, was finished 
 in 1858, in which year the sculptor attained the full honours of 
 the Academy and became an R.A. 1 
 
 We should, however, have noted that the monumental group 
 in bronze, Viscount Hardinge on his War Charger, executed 
 for Calcutta, was finished before Caractacus, and was ex- 
 hibited in 1856. By many this work is considered Foley's 
 highest achievement. His own Outram, a companion group, 
 may perhaps rival it. At anyrate, in the equestrian style, this 
 work has no superior in the whole range of modern sculpture. 
 Exhibited in front of Burlington House previous to its depar- 
 ture for its destination in the East, the statue of Lord Hardinge 
 attracted the enthusiastic admiration of the many, whose gift of 
 expression oftentimes lags far behind their instinctive appre- 
 ciation of what is passing excellent in art, while at the same 
 time it won the genuine recognition of the learned in such 
 matters. Certain it was that no such representation of horse 
 and rider had ever been seen in the British Empire, and it 
 seemed doubtful whether any one of the world-famous eques- 
 trian figures surpassed it in perfect truth and downright beaut}". 
 
 Equestrian statues of the first excellence are indeed few in 
 number, and the artists whose works they are might almost be 
 reckoned on the five fingers. When we name the sculptor of 
 
 1 Irishmen have made a good figure among the Academicians. George 
 Barrett was one of the originators and first members of the Academy. 
 James Barry was one of its first professors. Sir Martin Archer Shee 
 held the post of President of the Academy for twenty years. Mulready, 
 Maclise, Elmore, and MacDowell have enjoyed the distinction of R.A.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 217 
 
 the Marcus Aurelius of the Capitol (though, in truth, we can 
 only number, and not name him), and Donatello, Verocchio, 
 Ranch, and Foley, we have well-nigh completed the list of 
 masters who have excelled in modelling the horse and his 
 rider. Very interesting it is to study together the representa- 
 tive examples of ancient, mediaeval, and modern art in this line, 
 which the sculptors referred to have left behind in testimony 
 of their genius. With the aid of engravings or photographs 
 this can, in a more or less satisfactory way, be done, even by 
 the respectable minority of art lovers whose travels are accom- 
 plished mainly at the fireside ; while memory alone enables, 
 perhaps, as large a number to recall the master-works of monu- 
 mental art which stand in their pride of place in European 
 cities. 
 
 Who, for instance, has ever bade adieu to the seven-hilled 
 city without taking with him a living memory of the Marcus 
 Aurelius, that figure of ineffable dignity, and that war-horse 
 worthy to bear the master of the Roman world ? Who has 
 visited Padua, and forgotten the Gattamelata of the piazza 
 of Sant' Antonio, the very ideal of a soldier of fortune, encased 
 in mail, rigid as a wall of brass, yet no burden to that steed of 
 Flemish proportions whose chafing and neighing are made 
 clearly obvious, as good old Vasari notes ? Or again, is Venice, 
 with its monuments, its domes, and its Campanili, fondly dwelt 
 on, and has Coleoni vanished in the mental vision from that 
 little space of solid earth in front of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, 
 where, elevated on his high pedestal, the stern visaged warrior 
 bestrides his thick-set, lightly-caparisoned charger, in whose very 
 hoofs resounds the tramp of war ? l 
 
 1 The Marcus Aurelius is the only equestrian statue in bronze of 
 ancient workmanship that has come down to us. It was dug up near 
 St. John Lateran ; and having stood in front of the basilica for nearly 
 two hundred years, was removed to its present position in the piazza 
 of the Campidoglio by Michael Angelo, who greatly admired the group. 
 Gazing at the horse, he is said to have cried out, Cammina! Advance 
 now ! 
 
 Donatello's Gattamelata shows, says Mr. Perkins (Tuscan Sculptors, 
 vol. i.), that the artist was more conversant with human than with equine 
 anatomy ; for he " succeeded less with the horse than with the rider, who, 
 dressed in armour, and holding the baton of command in his left hand, 
 while the reins are gathered in his right, sits somewhat stiffly, though with 
 considerable dignity, on the back of a ponderous war-horse, whose head 
 wants nobility and fire, and whose heavy limbs seem ill-adapted for pursuit
 
 2i8 JOHN HENRI' FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 Rauch's Frederick the Great on Horseback, wearing his 
 cocked hat and military cloak, and elevated high above the 
 group of generals who ride forth with him to battle, 1 may also 
 be fittingly compared and contrasted with the statues just 
 named, and with the Hardinge; though it would, we think, be 
 better to postpone the study of Rauch and Foley in connection 
 until the O'Connell monument shall have been erected. For 
 as we now have in the German sculptor's work the noblest 
 martial monument in existence, so shall we then possess in 
 Foley's, unless expectation be lamentably deceived, as glorious 
 a trophy as ever was designed in memory of a bloodless and a 
 deathless victory. 
 
 Serene and stately, wearing his military uniform, but with 
 uncovered head and sword still sheathed, Lord Hardinge reins 
 in his charger. A soldier confessed he is, in his well-knit 
 nervous frame, and firm seat in the saddle, but a ruler of the 
 civil State as well, as his composed countenance and peaceful 
 attitude betoken. The right hand holds the reins, the left 
 wrist rests on the hip, and the eyes look straight out as if con- 
 templating and controlling a situation pregnant with events. 
 The horse, all nerve and blood, with arched neck, distended 
 nostril, and starting eye, is a very picture of grace and spirit as 
 it paws the air and owns no curb but the gently firm hold of 
 the rider. 
 
 As Donatello and Verocchio personified the gallant con- 
 dottiere of the Middle Ages, armed to the teeth, confident in 
 weight of metal and animal courage, bestriding his thick-set 
 vigorous war-horse ; so has Foley portrayed with equal truth 
 the military commander of the nineteenth century, disencum- 
 bered of shield and breastplate, victorious in the field and 
 
 or flight." The same writer remarks that, like the bronze horse which 
 bears Coleoni at Venice, and like many other painted and sculptured 
 steeds, not excepting some of the Elgin Marbles, this horse lifts two legs 
 on the same side, in a way not true to nature. 
 
 Verocchio, the sculptor of the Coleoni, did not live to see his model 
 cast in bronze. The monument was erected in 1496, and excited universal 
 admiration in Venice. Alluding to its striking picturesqueness, someone 
 has said that, seen by moonlight, it might have suggested the romance of 
 Don Giovanni. Both the Gattamelata and the Coleoni still stand in 
 the place for which they were designed, and on which they were erected 
 four hundred years ago. 
 
 1 The monument to Frederick the Great occupies a magnificent site in 
 Berlin opposite the palace of the Prince of Prussia.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 219 
 
 dominant in the council mind against mind as much as sword 
 against sword contending. 
 
 Great regret was expressed that this work of art should be 
 for ever lost to England, and it was hoped that a replica of 
 the Hardinge would be commissioned for London. However, 
 for want, doubtless, of an energetic promoter, the necessary 
 subscription was not collected, and India alone possesses the 
 masterpiece. Though the general regret led to no practical 
 result, the sculptor felt the compliment which the popular voice 
 had paid him. He often alluded to the circumstance as one of 
 the most gratifying incidents of his artistic life. 
 
 If employment had not been wanting up to this date, com- 
 missions seemed likely now to become overwhelming. For the 
 most part, the work which Mr. Foley was invited to undertake 
 was congenial to his character and genius, but it ran altogether 
 in one line, that of portraiture and monumental design. To the 
 classic and poetic studies of his first years he had to bid fare- 
 well. Whether he regretted this necessity ; whether, if a free 
 choice had been offered to him, he would have gone on trans- 
 lating from Olympus companions to the Ino, embodying in 
 human shape the ideal creations of the poet, and interpreting 
 in stone the phantasms of a " creed outworn," we cannot say. 
 Nor can we, in truth, regret that the force of circumstance 
 withdrew him from " the constant service of the antique world," 
 and constrained him to concentrate his power in that depart- 
 ment which he has made so completely his own ; for he has 
 raised portraiture in his art to the eminence of historical work, 
 and imparted at once such grace and character to his statues 
 as to render them not only true to the general laws of fact, but 
 satisfying to the artistic eye and feeling. What portraiture on 
 canvas became in the hands of Titian and Velasques, Rubens 
 and Rembrandt, portraiture in bronze and marble has become 
 in the hands of Foley. These true artists had the faculty to 
 discern what was best and most original in the nature of those 
 whose form and features they undertook to paint or mould, 
 and they had the art of making that quality reveal itself in the 
 countenance and air. Moreover, as there are few faces which 
 are incapable of being idealised by a poetic thought or glorified 
 by a noble passion, and as even the bodily frame itself assumes, 
 under such influences, a characteristic grace and dignity, so 
 did these supremely gifted masters of the chisel and the brush
 
 220 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, 
 
 catch and immortalise the ethereal transient beauty that trans- 
 figures face and form. 
 
 Thus are great works in portraiture produced. They are 
 real, and yet ideal ; satisfying the judgment because of their 
 unquestionable truth, and delighting the heart because they 
 present the subject of the artist's skill in the way we love best 
 to remember him. 
 
 III. 
 
 Ax the early age of forty years, Foley had reached the highest 
 position which an artist in our days, and in these countries, 
 can ambition. He was a Royal Academician, his name was 
 widely known and his works were universally admired, com- 
 missions poured in from every side, and he was singularly free 
 free from subservience to patronage, from hampering official 
 engagements, from the irksomeness and slavery of arduous toil 
 for bread alone. And if, as was the case, his career up to this 
 period had been unmarked by extraordinary vicissitudes or 
 disasters, neither was the current of his after-life destined to 
 experience a chafing opposition from external agents, or any 
 internal disturbance injurious to its happy, even flow. Indeed, 
 one of the noteworthy facts about him is this, that while his 
 professional course was unvaryingly fortunate, his character was 
 of so genuine a stamp as to take no hurt in this exemption from 
 the artist's ordinary trials; for, without question, it is easier for 
 genius to emerge unharmed from the fire of tribulation than to 
 pass unscathed through the ordeal of success. 
 
 In his freedom from the trammels of patronage, he was 
 particularly fortunate, in so far as it rendered all the more 
 distinguished that genius which worked its way to eminence 
 without the aids ordinarily tendered to the aspiring artist. 
 Neither governments nor academies favoured him with their 
 early notice or advanced him in any crisis of his opening 
 career. No aristocratic virtuoso, no dilettante millionaire, 
 introduced him to the world of fashion, rank, or wealth, giving 
 or obtaining for the yet unrecognised master that first, longed-for 
 commission which should immortalise in marble the offspring 
 of his imagination, reveal his power to an admiring circle, and 
 set him on the road to opulence and fame. Essentially and
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 221 
 
 manifestly his early and splendid success was solely due to his 
 artistic power, his unswerving resolution, and his enormous 
 capacity for work. 
 
 Another advantage, too, followed from his inexperience of 
 the relations which, in artistic life, are wont to be established 
 between the patron and the patronised. Taste in matters of 
 art had made inconsiderable progress in England when his 
 career was beginning, and much ignorance prevailed with 
 regard to sculpture. The professors of that art could hardly 
 hope to obtain profitable commissions without the aid of 
 influential patrons, and the latter often injured more than they 
 served the true interests of art. Unindebted, therefore, to 
 patronage, which no doubt he could have obtained had he 
 sought it, Foley was at liberty from first to last in following his 
 own inspiration, unwarped by arbitrary interference, unshackled 
 by injudicious dictation. 
 
 Again, it is to be observed that he received no help in his 
 art education from continental travel and study in the great 
 foreign schools of sculpture. He never visited the studios of 
 Germany, he knew nothing of the academies of Italy, he 
 never saw Rome. A visit to Paris and a tour in Rhineland 
 were the beginning and end of his outward journeying. Oppor- 
 tunity was denied him at the age when he would have been 
 free to undertake a serious study of the original works of the 
 ancients, the masterpieces of mediaeval art, and the best pro- 
 ductions of cotemporary sculpture ; and then his mastership 
 followed so closely on his studentship, that work soon absorbed 
 his attention and left him without leisure for travelling abroad. 
 Thus he missed the special culture which the masters of his 
 art, with few exceptions, had enjoyepl ; and in him was broken 
 the tradition that a residence in Rome, or, at anyrate, a course 
 of study in some foreign school, was essential to the education 
 of a great sculptor. 1 
 
 1 As a rule, the German sculptors studied in Paris or Rome. Schwan- 
 thaler did not reside very long in the Eternal City, but Rauch spent about 
 thirty years within its precincts. Thorwaldsen never left Rome, except for 
 one short interval, during more than forty years. He did not count as life 
 the time preceding his establishment in the capital of art. Someone 
 having asked him the date of his birth, he replied, " I don't know ; but 
 I arrived in Rome on the 8th of March 1797." The French Academy of 
 Art rewards its successful students by bestowing on them the Prix de 
 Rome, which entitles them to three years' residence in the Villa Medici,
 
 222 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 However, although he missed in this instance what he would 
 not without necessity forego, it is quite possible that there may 
 have been some compensation in this loss also. He may have 
 been saved from falling into that inordinate worship of the 
 antique which has enslaved the free soul of many an artist, 
 and lowered to the status of a copyist of classic models genius 
 which otherwise might have attained to the position due to 
 originality in thought and style. Thrown more completely on 
 the ideal in his own mind, Foley had less temptation to follow 
 after strange gods ; and for the rest, there was no lack of fine 
 models for a student of sound intelligence and original power 
 in that northern capital which possesses the Elgin Marbles. 
 While the contest between the Realists and the Idealists was 
 raging in Italy and France, England, though no stranger to the 
 interest of the warfare, debated the question rather than fought 
 in the lists ; and Foley meanwhile struck out his own path, 
 equally independent of the lines of the opposing factions." l 
 
 Possibly the only real loss the artist sustained through his 
 imprisonment within the British Isles, was the deprivation of 
 that cultured enjoyment which is attainable in continental 
 centres of literature and art, and in the society of gifted men 
 of other nations. 
 
 It will be remembered that Foley, in his boyhood, received 
 very little education, scientific or literary. And yet his works 
 
 with all the advantages of a course of study in the Papal Galleries. Eng- 
 lish sculptors have not so invariably tended Rome-wards; but Flaxman 
 studied for seven years in the shadow of the seven hills ; Gibson lived 
 twenty-four years on the Tiber's banks ; Theed nearly as long ; and Wyatt 
 even longer. Our own Hogan was sent to Rome by his art-loving friends, 
 and had his home there for many years. The Amerciau sculptors follow 
 the example of European artists, Crawford, Story, Miss Hosmer, and 
 others have, or have had, each a studio in Rome. 
 
 1 Giovanni Dupre, the Italian sculptor, gives, in his interesting work / 
 mid Ricordi, an account of the rival schools, and of his own perplexity in 
 trying to decide between them. In the end he found they were both in 
 error. " L'errore delle due scuole," he says, " cioe degli Accademici e 
 dei Veristi, e in cio : quella, esagerando il precetto, trascura i particolari e 
 fa duro e freddo ; questa, moltiplicandoli all' infinito, cade nella minuzia e 
 fa 1'arte volgare. Son due errori, due brutture, due falsita." How, one 
 day, in passing through the Trastevere, he became suddenly convinced that 
 the Greeks, whom the Accademici would alone study as models, went 
 themselves directly to nature, and how this discovery affected his own 
 practice as a sculptor, is charmingly told in the autobiographical work 
 above named.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 223 
 
 are a sufficient evidence that he was a well-read, highly-cultivated 
 man. The fact is, that in his early manhood he supplied, by 
 diligent study, the defects of previous training, and continued 
 up to the end to give much time to books. He was a thoughtful 
 and methodical reader, not an omnivorous devourer of news- 
 papers, magazines, and volumes great and small. Although 
 he made himself acquainted with the best works of modern 
 writers, he never lost his love for the books that had delighted 
 him in his boyhood. The Vicar of Wakeficld he considered 
 the most natural story that ever was written, and he reread 
 it with enjoyment even in his latter days. He constantly 
 carried in his pocket a copy of the diamond edition 01 
 Youngs Night Thoughts, another early favourite. Even if he 
 had been illiterate, he would not have been altogether an excep- 
 tion among sculptors ; for some, even of eminence in the art, 
 were uneducated, and one of the very greatest in our own day 
 could hardly write or spell. But Foley's line of work required 
 that he should be, on many subjects, more than superficially 
 informed. Scrupulous regard for truth in details is everywhere 
 observable in his work; and a luminous revelation of character 
 was what he aimed at and achieved in his portraiture. These 
 suppose an attentive study of the life and qualities of the men 
 whose " counterfeit presentment" he was to produce by the em- 
 ployment of the legitimate resources of his art; and demanded 
 no less an acquaintance with the period in which the lot of 
 these men was cast. 
 
 Take Oliver Goldsmith for example. Short of living domes- 
 ticated with the author of " The Deserted Village," one could not 
 be more thoroughly acquainted with him than was the artist, 
 who knew the melody of his verse and " that other harmony " 
 of his prose, appreciated his generous, boyish, affectionate dis- 
 position, sympathised with his tenderness for old associations 
 and old friends, and his longing to get back to Ireland and lay 
 his bones with the ashes of his kindred, understood and loved 
 the man, in a word, and so made a portrait of him which is at 
 once the simple truth and a masterpiece of art. Difficulties 
 beset the subject. According to the common notion, a statue 
 of Goldsmith, with his bare protruding forehead and plain 
 features, and his inelegant form habited in the breeches and 
 coat of the period, would be an unlikely figure to inspire the 
 genius of an artist. But difficulties are inspiriting to a man of
 
 224 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 Foley's temperament, and he was determined that the work he 
 was required to execute should be something more than an 
 effigy in bronze, with " Goldsmith " cut beneath. Immortal- 
 ised in his better self, and planted on his native soil, come 
 home at last, Goldsmith stands in the post of honour at the 
 gates of that college where he spent some miserable years, 
 where he was little thought of in the days of his sizarship, but 
 where his name is now treasured as a proud inheritance. 
 
 And so was it with Edmund Burke, the companion to Gold- 
 smith in front of Trinity College. Statesman, philosopher, 
 master of the spoken and the written tongue, the foremost man 
 of his age, and the greatest Irishman that ever lived, Burke 
 tasks in no small measure those who would learn to thoroughly 
 understand and appreciate his character and genius. Samuel 
 Johnson said that if one were driven to seek shelter from a 
 shower of rain under the same gateway with Burke, one must 
 in a few minutes perceive his superiority over common men. 
 Was this in Foley's mind when he began, out of a lump of clay, 
 to mould the form of Edmund Burke ? We cannot say. But 
 certain we are, that not the dullest stranger that ever visited 
 our shores could pass by Trinity College and lift his gaze 
 towards Foley's statue without asking himself, Who this super- 
 latively great man can be. Burke, elevated on his pedestal, 
 stands without book or pen or attribute of any kind; one foot 
 is advanced sufficiently to balance the figure, the left hand falls 
 by the side and grasps a scroll, the right rests open on the hip. 
 Nothing could be more unaffected than the attitude. And yet 
 life seems to move within that form, animated with a noble 
 passion, still, but only in the pause of action thrilling and 
 momentous. Foley succeeded in this splendid impersonation 
 because he was imbued with the spirit of his illustrious fellow- 
 countryman. He worshipped Burke. 1 
 
 Foley's method of work was at once simple and thorough. 
 In the first place, he devoted himself to an earnest study of his 
 subject in its essential and historical aspects, in this course 
 going far beyond what others would consider necessary, and 
 never resting satisfied until his memory was well stored with 
 
 1 " In his own native city the Goldsmith and Burke of Foley, 
 appropriately placed in front of old Trinity College, prove proudly and 
 lastingly that the genius of Ireland, whether in poetry or eloquence, in 
 writing or in sculpture, is immortal. Annual Register, 1874.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 225 
 
 facts, and his imagination fully supplied with material to work 
 on. Then, in the second place, he considered how, in plastic 
 art, could best be represented the poet, the soldier, the patriot, 
 the statesman whom he undertook to portray, or the incident 
 which had to be recorded in relief or in the round. Finally 
 came the working out of this ideal in conformity with the 
 rules of his art a labour of head and hand occupying, in the 
 case of an important commission, not months, but years. 
 
 Most of the work which he executed was important, and 
 most of it was congenial also, that is to say, such as he could 
 throw his heart into. Visitors to his studio might perceive at a 
 glance that the subjects he was engaged on were of an elevated 
 character, bracing to the mind and pleasing to the imagination. 
 No doubt, it did sometimes happen that time and labour 
 were unduly expended even in that studio on monuments 
 too colossal for the memory they were designed to perpetuate. 
 Mediocrity set in high station could hardly in itself supply 
 the motive for a work on which the artist might lavish 
 the resources of design and execution to his own entire 
 satisfaction. But such commissions, honourable as a testimony 
 of his eminence, were not of his own choosing. He considered 
 there was oftentimes an immense amount of toadyism dis- 
 played in the getting up of public monuments to individuals. 
 " One might suppose," he would exclaim, "that So-and-so was 
 a wonderful genius or a great benefactor of the human race, 
 such anxiety is shown in raising up a monument to his honour! 
 And then to think," he would add, " that there is no national 
 memorial to Shakespeare ! " His fancy pursued this idea, and 
 he would dwell on the delight of executing a work so im- 
 portant and so inspiriting. Nothing, however, in the least 
 approaching to it in magnitude and character was offered to 
 him until towards the very end, when he was summoned to 
 build up the national monument of Ireland. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE number of marbles, casts, and designs in every stage of 
 progress which filled the studio, rendered a visit to the sculptor 
 in his working hours singularly interesting. For some years
 
 226 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 the studio was at No. 1 7 Osnaburgh Street. Afterwards Mr. 
 Foley removed to No. 10 in the same street, took the adjoin- 
 ing house, added to and improved the premises, and made a 
 very fine studio, approached by a glass door from the dwelling- 
 house. The gallery was a truly noble one, in which the casts, 
 finished and painted, were arranged, a pedestal, surmounted 
 by a bust, standing between every two figures. Rows of work- 
 shops, screened by curtains, ranged along the sides, and at the 
 end was a lofty studio for equestrian models. A walk in the 
 twilight or by moonlight through the silent gallery, peopled 
 with forms of dignity and beauty, was an enjoyment not easily 
 forgotten. Oftentimes, during Mr. Foley's occupancy, the 
 commonplace character of Osnaburgh Street was relieved by 
 the appearance of distinguished or unusual visitors. Once, to 
 the great surprise of the neighbourhood, the Corporation 
 arrived in a long line of cabs, like a funeral procession. The 
 civic dignitaries had come to see Mr. Foley's models, and 
 choose two figures to be executed in marble and placed in the 
 Egyptian Room of the Mansion House. Frequently it was 
 the apparition of the royal carriages that caused a commotion 
 in the street. The queen visited the studio more than once 
 while the monument to Colonel Bruce was in progress ; and, 
 later, Her Majesty came frequently to see the models for the 
 statue of the Prince Consort, designed for the Albert Memorial 
 in Hyde Park. 
 
 Surrounded by his own creations, Mr. Foley was himself not 
 the least attractive figure in the studio. His peculiarly gentle 
 and unassuming manner had a special charm under circum 
 stances which did not permit one to forget for a moment that 
 his was the master mind, and his the skilled hand which 
 originated these multifarious and exquisite works. In his 
 work-day dress a long grey coat and black silk cap he would 
 accompany his visitor round the studio, stopping before the 
 different statues in progress, making an observation incident- 
 ally to his pupils while pointing with his stick to a part which 
 might be improved, and showing the quickness of the artist's 
 eye in measuring the advance of each of the works on which 
 the men under his direction were engaged. A favoured visitor 
 sometimes enjoyed a greater favour still, in having an appoint- 
 ment made for him at the studio in the evening hours, when 
 the assistants had left, and the sculptor remained alone in the
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 227 
 
 midst of his works. The only occasion when a visit to the 
 studio left a trace of sadness in the memory, was in the 
 artist's latter days ; for then the expression of his countenance 
 betrayed the suffering he experienced in contemplating the 
 unfinished works, while he was all too conscious that the 
 shades were falling and the night approaching wherein no 
 man can work. At this period, not being able to use the 
 chisel himself, he would remain seated while directing his 
 assistants. 
 
 Foley's studio received new inmates faster than the old ones 
 departed, and for this reason, that he kept his works by him 
 until he was satisfied that no more could be done to perfect 
 any detail. Mr. Teniswood relates that he has often joined 
 him in a visit to the studios at night their route " lit by a 
 small lamp he carried for such nocturnal inspections"; and has 
 " seen him test the condition of works in hand by lighting 
 them from all approachable parts. And as, under such an 
 ordeal, his models rarely escaped without the apparent neces- 
 sity for reduction in one part or increase in another, hasty 
 indications of alteration were made upon them for considera- 
 tion in the next day's work." 
 
 One of his last completed groups, Lieutenant-General Sir 
 James Outram on his Charger, may be cited as an example of 
 this conscientious and indefatigable labour. He kept the 
 work twelve years in his studio; and even after it had been 
 cast, he would go to the foundry and lay clay on the bronze 
 figure to improve some portion, insisting on having a piece of 
 bronze cast and let in at this or that place. In fact, the statue 
 may be said to have been recast more than once. 1 And this 
 is the more remarkable because no work of this master, or 
 perhaps of any master, suggests so completely the idea of 
 spontaneity of production. After its completion, and previous 
 to its departure for Calcutta, it was exhibited in front of the 
 Athenaeum Club, and called forth, as was remarked at the time, 
 the heartiest and most unanimous praise ever spontaneously 
 bestowed on a public monument. Professional critics were 
 more divided than the world at large on the question of its 
 merits. While some authorities claimed for it pre-eminence 
 among the sculptor's works, others objected to the want of 
 
 1 See " The Studio of the late J. H. Foley, R.A." Freeman 's Journal, 
 Sept. 8, 1874.
 
 228 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 classical repose in the design. 1 Anyhow, it is quite true to say, 
 as the Saturday Review did say, " The group is so bold, so full 
 of life and vigour, and so faithfully modelled, that criticism is 
 absolutely set at nought and defied." Surely, before trying to 
 form an opinion of this magnificent work, one ought to under- 
 stand that the artist's object was not merely to model a general 
 on horseback, but to represent the fearless, chivalrous Outram 
 on his war-steed ; and should remember that, as Outram 
 was to stand beside Hardinge, contrast must be studied, 
 both for the sake of artistic effect and to emphasise the qual- 
 ities most characteristic in the sage Governor-General of India 
 and in the " Bayard of the East " respectively. Outram was 
 distinguished even among the bravest of the brave ; and, rules 
 or no rules, classic repose or realistic action, an artist of Foley's 
 judgment could not but make soldierly dash and daring the 
 motive of the composition which was to be the hero's memorial. 
 Here is Outram's character epitomised : 
 
 " In the political and military history of our vast Eastern 
 Empire, during recent times, the figure of Outram stands out a 
 full head and shoulders above his cotemporaries. His was a 
 character which did not gain the splendid sobriquet of the 
 ' Bayard of India ' without just cause. His simplicity of life, 
 his heroic self-abnegation, his generosity, his contempt of all 
 pecuniary advantages to himself, and the power he possessed 
 of exciting the sympathy of all classes of men, made him, 
 indeed, no unworthy representative of the soldier-poet. Self 
 was never in his thoughts. He was always ready to sacrifice 
 himself for others; he would take, without ostentation, the 
 post of danger and trial, or of labour and difficulty, and would 
 so order things of his own intention as he did at Lucknow 
 that others should, if possible, receive the honour and full 
 reward. . . . Single-minded, loyal, courageous, and the most 
 courteous and sensitive of men to his official inferiors, he well 
 deserved the name bestowed on him, even by his bitter enemy, 
 of the 'Bayard of India.' " 2 Add to this, that a dashing heroism 
 distinguished him in the field; that feats of daring illustrated 
 
 1 The Athen&uni) in recording the death of Mr. Foley, names this group 
 as decidedly his masterpiece, and adds, that " the death of an artist so 
 capable as the sculptor of Outram is a national loss ; for power to pro- 
 duce works so large and in so grand a style is very rare." 
 
 2 Wettminster Review, October 1880.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 229 
 
 his career at every turn ; and that, magnanimous in renuncia- 
 tion though he was, honours lay in wait for him, and pursued 
 him, and all but overwhelmed him in the end add all these 
 together, and then some idea may be formed of the exception- 
 ally striking character of Outram. 
 
 And now let us turn to Foley's impersonation, and study it 
 in detail. 
 
 " The daring originality of this magnificent work places it as 
 far above the reach of the ordinary canons of criticism, as it is 
 beyond any similar productions with which the world is as yet 
 acquainted. Life and energy are impressed on every inch of 
 its surface with a mastery and skill to be found only in the 
 works of this sculptor, who has here surpassed even the 
 grandeur of his famous Lord Hardinge, now in Calcutta. Mr. 
 Foley, doubtless, felt the value of his present noble subject, 
 and has herein accomplished a result that not only excites our 
 admiring wonder by its sense of power and grandeur of expres- 
 sive effect, but realises in its design and detail the fearless 
 character of the intrepid hero. Sir James bestrides his fiery 
 charger with ease and safety. In hot pursuit of the enemy, he 
 turns upon his saddle to notice some circumstance of the 
 charge, his sword hand resting on the flank of his horse, which, 
 with tightened curb, is suddenly thrown back upon its 
 haunches. The anatomy of the animal is as learnedly studied 
 as it is brilliantly rendered, bone, sinew, and muscle present 
 their respective aspects and characters in a combination ot 
 surface and mobility never before presented in plastic art. 
 The action of man and horse is so simultaneous as to suppose 
 the sudden transformation into bronze of a group in life. The 
 lines of the composition produce, in nearly all views, a grandeur 
 of form and striking richness of effect." l 
 
 V. 
 
 IT may be interesting now to leave the studio for a while 
 and seek the artist in his home. The transition is not difficult, 
 for Mr. Foley's fixed residence, as well as his studio, was at 
 Osnaburgh House. His personal life was essentially domestic, 
 1 Art Journal, 1873.
 
 230 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 and when he was not among his workmen he was sure to be 
 with his family. 
 
 We have seen how materially his art training differed from 
 that of famous sculptors generally. When, on the contrary, 
 we come to consider his personal character and private life, 
 we are struck by the likeness he bore to his predecessors, the 
 great masters of the chisel. Artist life, as commonly described, 
 relates solely to the life of painters by profession, and regards 
 not at all the life of sculptors. Variety, adventure, enjoyment 
 of the pleasures of existence, splendid surroundings, general 
 brightness only just " relieved " with shadow, these we notice 
 in the personal history of famous painters. The foremost 
 among them were remarkable for their social and intellectual 
 accomplishments as well as for their genius in art. Citizens of 
 station, associates of princes, we find them intrusted with im- 
 portant offices, despatched on diplomatic missions, travelling 
 much abroad, and everywhere playing their part with distinc- 
 tion. Their life, like their art, was full of colour and of 
 picturesque scenes. 1 
 
 On the other hand, the sculptors, when grouped together, 
 display strongly - marked personal characteristics, differing 
 materially from the painters' type, while the story of their lives 
 affords a striking contrast to that of the masters of colour and 
 perspective. Almost invariably they were by birth of the 
 artisan class, early acquired habits of industry and frugal 
 living, seldom ranged beyond the art education strictly 
 
 1 For examples of brilliant artist life, we need only recall John van Eyck 
 at the Court of the Duke of Burgundy ; Titian entertaining the King of 
 France in his house at Venice, and enjoying his garden suppers in the 
 company of intellectual friends ; Velasques concluding diplomatic business 
 with the pope on behalf of Philip of Spain, and assigned apartments, 
 now at the Vatican, and again in the palace of the most Catholic king ; 
 Rubens keeping up an establishment in high burgher style in the Place de 
 Meir at Antwerp, and setting forth to negotiate peace between Spain and 
 England, displaying such magnificence while on the embassy that the 
 Prince of Portugal shrank from receiving him as a guest ; Raphael living 
 more like a prince than a painter, and going to Court, accompanied by a 
 brilliant train of pupils and admirers ; and Vandyck maintaining a town 
 and a country-house in England, and entertaining at his table princes and 
 ladies of high rank. 
 
 As instances of varied and high attainments possessed by great painters, 
 note Albert Durer's devotion to mathematical science and theological 
 studies ; Salvator Rosa's musical compositions ; and Leonardo da Vinci's 
 philosophical speculations and scientific pursuits.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 231 
 
 necessary for their profession, dwelt apart from the world's 
 brilliant stage, and, shaping their course in simple harmonious 
 lines, made their life correspond with their art. A lump of 
 waste mould, a block of marble, the ideal in their own mind, 
 such was their outfit ; with these they began life, and with 
 these they ended. No material splendour approached them 
 even in their studio. Married, as they usually were, their 
 home was a peaceful refuge, in which they found repose after 
 the daily toil of hand and brain, and not unfrequently precious 
 sympathy also. For charming pictures of a sculptor's house- 
 hold, one need not go beyond the memoirs of the English 
 Flaxman, the French Rude, and the Italian Dupre. Or, if 
 they formed no family tie, their leisure was not for that con- 
 sumed in dissipation ; their amusements were of a refined 
 order, and their expenditure was kept within the bounds of 
 moderation. Though not always reaching in disinterestedness 
 to the height of Michael Angelo, who undertook the work at 
 St. Peter's solely on condition that he should receive no 
 remuneration ; or of Donatello, who kept his money in a 
 basket suspended from the roof, so that his assistants and 
 friends might take what they needed without saying anything 
 to him ; sculptors, as a rule, have shown little disposition to 
 accumulate wealth, and great generosity in helping others. 
 Simple-minded, unspoiled, unwordly men they were ; seldom 
 receiving public honours, or, when so distinguished, wearing 
 their decorations with a modest dignity. 1 
 
 A preference for " high thinking " versus " high living," 
 unostentatious generosity in sharing with others the gifts he 
 had received from fortune, love of home and desire to see all 
 around him happy, delight in refined and healthful recreations 
 these, together with the capacity for work and the invincible 
 perseverance already noted, were prominent traits in Foley's 
 character. 
 
 Engaged, as he habitually was, in serious study even when 
 his hands were unemployed, casual observers remarked that he 
 was taciturn, rather absent in manner, completely absorbed in 
 his art. And so he undoubtedly was in the working hours. 
 And these hours were long and anxious, and hardly interrupted 
 
 1 Among the titled sculptors must be named Canova, created Marquis of 
 Ischia by the pope ; and Tenerani, the greatest Italian sculptor of our own 
 day, made a knight of St. Michael by Louis I. of Bavaria,
 
 232 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 even by his meals. A quarter of an hour was the time he 
 allowed himself for dinner, and he would often sit down so 
 preoccupied with the studio work as to appear to take his food 
 mechanically. The rule was that he should not be called 
 away from table ; and yet accidents would sometimes happen, 
 and the petite quart d'hetire suffer a disastrous interruption. 
 A knock at the door at that particular time could mean nothing 
 less than a calamity in the studio. Once it heralded the 
 announcement that the model of the Outram had been 
 injured ; and when Mr. Foley hastened to the scene of the 
 catastrophe, he found that through the ignorant presumption 
 of an assistant, who had been desired not to meddle with the 
 work, a rope had broken, and the horse's head had been 
 thrown off to one side of the studio and the tail to another. 
 On such occasions the artist needed all his patience, and, 
 fortunately for himself, he was well practised in that virtue. 
 
 When the toil of the day was over, he needed nothing more 
 for relaxation than an evening in the domestic circle with his 
 books, his music, or such amusements as all could join in. 
 He played exquisitely on the flute, and wrote songs, which he 
 set to airs of his own composition. Often he would remain 
 up to a late hour of the night playing on his favourite instru- 
 ment, and those who heard the sounds would say to them- 
 selves, " Will he never stop ? How can he be up for his work 
 to-morrow if this go on ? " 
 
 Another favourite recreation was an excursion into the 
 country. Nature, in her wild and beautiful aspects, had a 
 fascination for him ; and so true was the feeling with which he 
 observed the play of light and shade, the grace of outline, and 
 the picturesque in composition, that his opinion was frequently 
 consulted by landscape painters on matters appertaining to 
 their branch of art. Except to visit thus the fields, the woods, 
 the river banks, and the breezy hills, he seldom went abroad 
 for amusement. He accepted very few invitations although 
 during the London season he received many from the most 
 distinguished in rank and letters. Whenever he did appear in 
 fashionable circles on an evening, he was sure to return home 
 early. Any other course would have unfitted him, he said, for 
 his work next day. 
 
 He was far from being unsocial, however. He entertained 
 his friends with genuine hospitality at a simple board ; his
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 233 
 
 genial manner and his pleasant talk rich with information 
 and dashed with unaffected humour making these little parties 
 charming and memorable. 
 
 On occasions, too, the social evenings were distinguished by 
 a quite exhilarating jollity. These galas were heralded by the 
 announcement that friends had arrived from Ireland. No 
 matter how preoccupied he was, and sometimes he would sit 
 down to dinner and seem to take his meal mechanically, he 
 no sooner learned the good news than he cast aside all anxiety, 
 and engaged himself in mirthful thoughts, and the question of 
 preparing a pleasant supper for the expected guests, suggesting 
 such a profusion of supplies for the banquet that his good wife 
 would at length feel called upon to observe that such plentiful 
 dishes were not necessary. " Never mind," he would reply. 
 " This is what they like fine big joints. You need not keep 
 what is left in the house. Give it to the poor." 
 
 Although he was not blessed with children, he had a great 
 love for young people. A children's party was one of his 
 delights ; and it was amusing to see him surrounded by the 
 youngsters, while, penknife in hand, he cut for them, out of a 
 piece of cardboard, as if by magic, all manner of antediluvian 
 animals. 
 
 VI. 
 
 IN the midst of his noble labours and happy family life, 
 there was a dream which he fondly cherished, the dream of 
 returning to Ireland in time to come, and spending his declin- 
 ing years among his own people. The day seemed distant 
 enough when this might be accomplished ; but meanwhile he 
 had the satisfaction of returning home in another sense, and 
 drawing closer the ties that bound him to his native land. He 
 had received many commissions from Ireland ; some of his 
 best work was already there, and the most important of all was 
 destined for his birthplace. His name and his fame were 
 already established in his native land. 
 
 But the dream of returning was destined to be fatally, though 
 not suddenly, dispelled. In 1871 he was seized with an 
 attack of pleuritic effusion, brought on, it was thought, by ex- 
 posure to cold while at work on the female figure in the group
 
 234 JOHN HENRY FOLEY R.A. 
 
 of Asia, a process which necessitated his sitting for hours at 
 a time on the wet clay forming the limbs of the figure while 
 modelling the bust. He was obliged to relinquish work, and 
 take rest at Hastings. Common prudence would have sug- 
 gested a temporary residence in a warmer climate, but he 
 could not endure the thought of being banished to a distance. 
 " Do not send me away," he said to Sir William Jenner, who 
 attended him, " for I cannot quit the country ; I cannot leave 
 my workmen." He recovered from this attack, after a sojourn 
 of some duration at the seaside. While at Hastings, he com- 
 posed the words and music of a song which those about him 
 understood to be, in a veiled way, a farewell to that place and 
 to the world, for he had a presentiment of approaching death. 
 The song is entitled, " Here we must part," and ends with this 
 verse : 
 
 " Farewell, forget me, may thy days roll on, 
 
 Still blessed, till time shall be no more ; 
 I would not have thy bosom harbour one 
 
 Dark drop that sorrow from its depths might pour. 
 Farewell, cast from thy glist'ning eyes 
 
 Those tears, and let them be 
 The last that evermore shall rise 
 
 In memory of me." 
 
 Mr. Foley returned to Hampstead, where he had some time 
 before bought a house with a fine conservatory and garden, 
 and, though always in a delicate state of health, continued to 
 work in his studio during the next three years with his accus- 
 tomed energy and an ever-increasing anxiety. He was obliged 
 to decline many commissions, and to devote all his power to 
 advancing and finishing those he had already undertaken. 
 Among the latter were the magnificent group of five figures 
 representing Asia, and the colossal seated figure of the Prince 
 Consort, both for the Albert Memorial in Hyde Park; the 
 equestrian group of Earl Canning, for Calcutta ; the statue of 
 Lord Elphinstone, for Bombay ; the Hon. James Stuart, for 
 Ceylon ; General Stonewall Jackson, for the United States ; 
 Grattan, Lord Gough, Sir B. L. Guinness, for Dublin ; and 
 finally the O'Connell Monument. 
 
 The design for the Albert Memorial with which design, 
 however, Mr. Foley had nothing to do included four groups 
 for the base of the monument, symbolising the four quarters of
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 235 
 
 the globe, each group composed of a number of human figures, 
 with an animal in the centre. These groups were to be 
 executed by four of the eminent sculptors of England. Mr. 
 MacDowell, possibly on account of his seniority, was allowed 
 his choice of the four subjects, and he took Europe. On account 
 of the elephant, Asia was considered an embarrassment. Mr. 
 Foley, when asked to make his selection, replied, in his char- 
 acteristic off-hand way, "Leave me any; I don't mind which." 
 His treatment of the subject is equally characteristic of his 
 genius. The composition is highly symmetrical ; the figures 
 are types of Oriental character, some of them being of extra- 
 ordinary beauty ; and over the whole reigns the cairn dignity of 
 idealised Eastern life. Baron Marochetti had been instructed 
 to prepare a model for the figure of the prince, which was 
 to occupy the centre of the monument. He did so, but 
 without giving satisfaction. A second model had no better 
 fortune, the Italian sculptor being, in fact, old and past his 
 power ; and then the queen, by what was virtually a command, 
 directed Mr. Foley to undertake the work. Her Majesty was 
 so anxious he should undertake it, that she intimated to him 
 her intention of paying for it out of her private purse. The 
 models met with the royal approval, and the sculptor was 
 handsomely remunerated. It may be interesting to mention 
 that the statue was cast from pieces of ordnance, weighs ten 
 tons, and is gilded to the thickness of a half-sovereign. 
 
 The statue of Stonewall Jackson was commissioned by 
 English admirers of the Confederate general, for presentation 
 to the State of Virginia. It may also be mentioned that the 
 sculptor gave the design for the Seal of the Confederate States 
 of America, executed in silver, and measuring between three 
 and four inches in diameter. In the centre is a representation 
 of Crawford's statue of Washington, surmounted by a wreath 
 of tobacco, rice, maize, cotton, wheat, and sugar-cane ; and the 
 rim bears the legend, "The Confederate States of America 
 22 February 1862 Deo Vindice." 
 
 Mr. Foley was particularly interested in the memorial of 
 Lord Gough, the hero of twenty-eight battles, who led his men 
 into action to the inspiriting strains of " Garryowen " and 
 "St. Patrick's Day"; and who, after the toil and strife were 
 over, returned to pass his venerable age, wear his honours, and 
 spend his fortune in his own land. The artist having suggested
 
 236 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 that the metal of guns captured during the Sikh campaigns, 
 by the force under the command of Lord Gough, should be 
 used in casting the group, the House of Commons prayed the 
 queen to direct that such material should be supplied, and 
 Her Majesty granted the prayer. As the funds at the disposal 
 of the Committee were not sufficient for the work, if an 
 altogether new model were to be made, Mr. Foley asked them 
 whether, under these circumstances, they would be satisfied to 
 have Gough mounted on Hardinge's war-horse. They were 
 quite satisfied to have it so; and, thanks to their wise and 
 prompt decision, Ireland now can boast of possessing, in the 
 Gough memorial, the finest equestrian statue in the British 
 Isles. 
 
 With much more than alacrity and goodwill, Mr. Foley 
 had in 1867 undertaken the O'Connell Monument. Holding 
 political opinions of a decidedly Liberal order, he entertained a 
 genuine admiration for the Liberator, whom he often met in 
 society in London. By the terms of the contract entered into, 
 the sculptor was to receive, according as the work advanced, 
 considerable sums of money, amounting, if we mistake not, to 
 a total of between ^12,000 and ^i3,ooo. 1 Yet, so elaborate 
 was the design, so infinite the labour bestowed on every part, 
 and so great the expense which must be incurred in the 
 
 1 The following is an abstract of the description of the monument given 
 in the O'Connell Centenary Record: 
 
 " The National monument consists of three distinct parts : the square 
 solid base, or podium, which includes two gradients ; the cylindrical drum, 
 resting on the base, with fifty allegorical figures, in high alto-relievo ; and 
 above, crowning the whole, O'CONNELL. The pediment is granite, with 
 the arms of each of the four provinces in the centre of the respective 
 upright faces. Projecting from the four corners of the base are four 
 winged victories, seated, representing Victory, by Patriotism, who grasps 
 a sword in her right hand, and holds a shield on her left ; Victory, by 
 Fidelity, holding the mariner's compass, and caressing the head of a 
 hound ; Victory, by Courage, strangling with one hand a serpent while 
 she crushes its writhing body under her feet, and with the other grasps the 
 bound bundle of reeds, symbolising strength of weak materials effected by 
 union ; and, Victory, by Eloquence, holding in one hand the roll of 
 documents from which she draws the arguments of her cause, while the 
 other is gracefully outstretched in the classic attitude of oratory. The 
 wings of these figures are considerably elevated, and impart great symbolic 
 boldness to the lower portion of the monument. The figures on the drum 
 are in such relief that they appear almost as distinct statues. In front of 
 the drum is a statue, eight feet in height, of Erin, trampling under foot her
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 237 
 
 erection of the monument, that the men in the studio used to say 
 to one another, " How can he possibly do it for the money ? " 
 
 But Foley did not care much for the money profits. Cost 
 what it might, he was resolved to leave after him in this work 
 a testimony of the gifts which the Almighty had bestowed on 
 himself, as well as a memorial of Ireland's gratitude to the 
 tribune of the people. The idea of raising thus at once a 
 monument to art and a trophy to patriotism gained on him as 
 it became more and more evident that this capo (f opera must 
 be his last achievement. The sketch models for the monu- 
 ment were completed, and the preparation of the full-size clay 
 models was being proceeded with, when the final summons 
 came. In his last hours the crowning work of his career 
 occupied his thoughts, and he did all that in him lay to ensure 
 its faithful completion according to the original design, by 
 directing that it should be left in the hands of his pupil and 
 chief assistant, Mr. Brock. 
 
 A more appropriate site could not be chosen than that on 
 which will be erected this monument to O'Connell's patriotism 
 and to Foley's art. Within view is the building in which 
 Catholic Emancipation was virtually carried ; and the founda- 
 tions are laid on the border-line of the parish where John 
 Henry Foley was born. 
 
 discarded fetters, her left hand grasping the Act of Emancipation, and her 
 right pointing aloft to the statue of the Liberator. On her immediate left 
 is a Catholic bishop, leading a youth by the hand and pointing to the 
 charter of freedom in Erin's hand ; and in a knot around the bishop, 
 listening to his words, are a number of priests, forming a group repre- 
 sentative of the Church. Following these, in the order named, are the 
 historian with his book, the painter with the implements of his art, and 
 the musician, holding a scroll on which are legible the words and score of 
 the air of Moore's spirited melody, so frequently quoted by O'Connell, 
 'Oh ! where's the slave so lowly,' etc. Next in the group come the 
 artisan with his kit of tools, the soldier and the sailor side by side, the 
 peer and the commoner (discussing the Act and its effects), the doctors of 
 law and medicine in their academic robes, the man of science, the archi- 
 tect, the merchant, the representative of civic authority in municipal robes, 
 and the peasantry of various types. Then, towering above this splendid 
 structure, stands the figure of O'Connell one hand resting in the breast of 
 his buttoned-up frock coat, and the other holding a roll of paper. The 
 dimensions of the monument are in keeping with the grandeur of the 
 design, as may be seen from the fact that the statue of O'Connell is twelve 
 feet in height ; each of the four winged victories eleven feet ; the figure of 
 Erin is eight feet, those around it being only slightly less ; and the whole 
 structure rises to an altitude of forty feet."
 
 238 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 In the midst of his work and in the full maturity of his 
 powers, the sculptor was called away. Still, his death cannot 
 be pronounced premature. He lived long enough to accom- 
 plish great things ; to produce works of the highest excellence 
 in the art to which he was devoted ; to offer an example of a 
 rare union of moral worth with brilliant genius ; and to inscribe 
 yet another name on the roll of Ireland's illustrious sons. 
 
 As far as we can ascertain, no complete list of Foley's works 
 //as appeared in print. Thanks to the diligence and kindness of 
 a friend, we are enabled to give the following enumeration, which 
 certainly must be very nearly a true return : 
 
 CLASSICAL AND IMAGINATIVE SUBJECTS. 
 
 The Death of Abel. 
 
 Innocence. 
 
 Ino and the Infant Bacchus. Bridgewater House. 
 
 Lear and Cordelia. 
 
 The Death of Lear. 
 
 Prospero relating his adventures to Miranda. 
 
 Venus rescuing ^Eneas from Diomed. 
 
 Contemplation. 
 
 The Mother. 
 
 Egeria. Mansion House, London. 
 
 The Elder Brother in Comus. His diploma work. 
 
 Royal Academy. 
 A Youth at a Stream. 
 The Houseless Wanderer. 
 Adversity. 
 Prosperity. 
 Imogen. 
 The Group of Asia. Hyde Park. 
 
 EQUESTRIAN GROUPS. 
 
 Lord Hardinge. 1 
 
 Sir James Outram, \ Calcutta. 
 
 Lord Canning. 
 
 Lord Gough. Dublin.
 
 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 239 
 
 STATUES. 
 
 Hampden. \ 
 
 Selden. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds. ] ew Palace > Wes 
 
 Sir Charles Barry. 
 
 Lord Canning. Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Lord Herbert. War Office. 
 
 Mr. Fielden. Todmorden. 
 
 Lord Clyde. Glasgow. 
 
 Caractacus. Mansion House, London. 
 
 William Rathbone. Liverpool. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Burke. 
 
 Grattan. 
 
 Earl of Carlisle. 
 
 Sir D. Corrigan. 
 
 Dublin. 
 
 Sir H. Marsh. 
 
 Dr. Stokes. 
 
 Sir B. L. Guinness. 
 
 The Prince Consort. 
 
 The Prince Consort. Cambridge. 
 
 The Prince Consort. Birmingham. 
 
 The Prince Consort. Hyde Park. 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 Michael Faraday. 
 
 Lord Rosse. 
 
 Father Mathew. Cork. 
 
 A Parsee Dignitary. \ 
 
 Lord Elphinstone. } 
 
 Sir James Stuart. Ceylon. 
 
 General Stonewall Jackson. Lexington, Virginia. 
 
 Leith Ritchie-. 
 
 MONUMENTS AND WORKS IN RELIEF. 
 
 The Muse of Painting. Monument to James Ward, R.A. 
 Grief. Monument to Admiral Cornwallis in Melfield 
 
 Church. 
 The Cashmere Bastion, Delhi. Monument to General 
 
 John Nicholson in Lisburn Cathedral.
 
 240 JOHN HENRY FOLEY, R.A. 
 
 The Tomb Revisited. Monument to John Jones in 
 
 Guilfield Church. 
 Memorial Tomb to Major-General Bruce in Dunferm- 
 
 line Abbey. 
 
 Memorial to William Cobbett. 
 Memorial to Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 Memorial to Mr. Rathbone. 
 Monument to a young native lawyer, for India. 
 Monument to Lord Murray, for Scotland. 
 Monument to Barry Cornwall. 
 Helen Faucit. 
 
 STATUETTES. 
 
 The Hon. Mrs. Stuart Wortley. 
 Mrs. Boustead. 
 
 THE OCONNELL MONUMENT. 
 
 Foley executed a great number of portrait busts, among 
 them being those of Robert Dickinson ; James Oliver ; Mr. 
 Prendergast ; Mrs. Prendergast ; Sir James Annesley ; Rev. 
 A. Reed, D.D. ; Thomas Mason; Sir Charles Hulse; Lady 
 Hulse; Rev. Richard Sheepshanks; John Sheepshanks ; Major- 
 General Forbes ; G. B. Airy, Astronomer-Royal ; son of James 
 Vaughan ; John Purcell Fitzgerald ; Samuel R. Healy ; 
 Brigadier-General Nicholson ; Adrian Hope ; Mr. Littledale ; 
 Sir Charles Barry; Brian W. Proctor (Barry Cornwall).
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 THERE appears to be no doubt that the Vision of St. Fursey is 
 the oldest of all the Celtic legends treating of the experiences 
 of the Christian soul in the regions beyond the grave. 
 "Tracing the course of thought upwards, through the visions 
 of Alberic and Owain Miles, and the other compositions of a 
 like nature, we have no difficulty," says Sir Francis Palgrave, 
 " in deducing the poetic genealogy of the Inferno and the 
 Purgatorio to the Milesian Fursreus." l 
 
 Moreover, this prose poem of the seventh century is doubly 
 interesting, as bearing the mark of its high antiquity in 
 the lyric simplicity and artless form of the narrative. And 
 as St. Fursey's name and story are not so well known in his 
 native land as assuredly they ought to be, I will give, at the 
 same time, a rapid sketch of his career, first in Erin, then 
 in East Anglia, and lastly in that glorious France where his 
 memory is still held in grateful veneration. 
 
 The important position held by St. Fursey, and the authen- 
 ticity of his history, are stated in a few words by a very 
 distinguished archaeologist, the Rev. Dr. Reeves, Protestant 
 Dean of Armagh. "Among the Irish saints," writes the 
 learned dean, " who are but slightly commemorated at home, 
 yet whose praise is in all the Churches, St. Fursa holds a con- 
 spicuous place. With Venerable Bede as a guarantee of his 
 extraction, piety, and labours, and above a dozen different 
 memoirs, of various ages, which were found on the Continent 
 in Colgan's time, the history of this saint is established on the 
 1 Palgrave, History of Normandy and England, vol. i. p. 725. 
 16
 
 242 ST. FUKSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 firmest basis." 1 And this testimony is more than confirmed 
 by another high authority, the late Protestant Bishop of 
 Brechin. " The reputation of St. Fursey," writes Dr. Forbes, 
 "extends far beyond the limits of the Scoto-Irish Church. 
 Not only is he one of the most distinguished of those mission- 
 aries who left Erin to spread the gospel through the heathen 
 and semi - heathenised races of mediaeval Europe, bridging 
 the gap between the old and new civilisations, but his 
 position in view of dogma is a most important one. He has 
 profoundly effected the eschatology of Christianity ; for the 
 dream of St. Fursseus and the vision of Drycthelm con- 
 tributed much to define the conceptions of men with regard 
 to that mysterious region on which every man enters after 
 death." ~ 2 
 
 Venerable Bede, born not more -than twenty-five or thirty 
 years after the death of the Irish saint, sketches, in few but 
 weighty words, the character of the holy man named Fursey, 
 who came out of Ireland, and preached the gospel in East 
 Anglia while Sigibert still governed that kingdom. This 
 man, he continues, was of noble Scottish [i.e. Irish] blood, 
 but much more noble in mind than in birth. From his boyish 
 years he had particularly applied himself to reading sacred 
 books and following monastic discipline, and, as is most 
 becoming to holy men, he carefully practised all that he 
 learned was to be done. Renowned he was for his words and 
 actions, and remarkable for singular virtues. He was a man 
 thought worthy to behold the choirs of angels, and to hear 
 the praises which are sung in heaven. The father of English 
 history says a good deal more about the saint's life and 
 mission, and also gives an abstract of the vision in which the 
 seer not only beheld the greater joys of the blessed, but also 
 extraordinary combats of evil spirits. In fact, the nineteenth 
 chapter of the third book of the Ecclesiastical History is 
 occupied exclusively with Fursey, the author being desirous, 
 as he says, that the sublimeness of this man may be known to 
 the readers. Still, he would have no one remain satisfied 
 with the curtailed narration he transcribes, but counsels all to 
 read the little book of Fursey's life already written, from 
 
 1 Manuscript account of St. Fursey, quoted in Webb's Compendium of 
 Irish Biography. 
 
 - Kalendars of Scottish Saints, p. 352.
 
 ST. FURSEY J S LIFE AND VISIONS 243 
 
 which they will, he says, be sure to reap much spiritual 
 profit. 1 
 
 The " little life " thus commended is supposed to be still 
 extant. If so, it is only one of a hundred. A long catalogue 
 of codices, in which various versions of St. Fursey's acts are 
 preserved in the chief public libraries of Europe, is given by 
 the Rev. John O'Hanlon in his exhaustive life of the saint, 
 and a comprehensive list is added of the more modern 
 authors who have, in various languages, treated of the same 
 subject; this array of writers showing, as the laborious com- 
 piler observes, how greatly the fame of St. Fursey extended 
 among the learned. 2 Mr. Wright also refers to several ancient 
 manuscript versions of the Visions, and indicates where they 
 are to be found ; 3 while he has rendered an important service 
 by publishing 4 the legend from an Anglo-Saxon manuscript 
 preserved in the Bodleian Library. Lack of material does 
 not offer any difficulty to the industrious student in this field ; 
 rather, to quote the Rev. Dr. Lanigan, so much has been 
 written about St. Fursey, that it has served rather to darken 
 than to illustrate his history. 5 
 
 Towards the close of the sixth century, according to the 
 most trustworthy authorities, Fintan, the son of Finlog, king 
 of a territory in southern Munster, found it necessary, on 
 account of some troubles in the little State, to absent himself 
 for a while, and took advantage of the opportunity thus 
 afforded to make a tour in Erin, visit the provincial kings in 
 their royal raths, form friendships with distinguished men of 
 the day, and perfect himself in such branches of letters and 
 polity as might be useful to him in after-life. He was an 
 accomplished prince, as young men of his position were ex- 
 pected to be after a prolonged course of education in the 
 
 1 Ecclesiastical History. Bohn's edition. Venerable Bede was held 
 in great esteem by the ancient Irish, as the author of Ogygia Vindicated 
 thus quaintly testifies: "He (Bede) greatly obliged the Irish nation by 
 his writing ; and they, in recompense, were not forgetful of his memory 
 in their annals, honouring him with this eulogy in the year of his depar- 
 ture, Beda Saxoruni Sapiens quievil ' Bede, the Sage of the Saxons, 
 rested.' " 
 
 2 Lives of the Irish Saints, vol. i. pp. 224, 225. 
 
 3 St. Patrick's Purgatory, ch. i. 
 
 4 In Reliquice Antiqita, vol. i. 
 
 5 Ecclesiastical History of Ireland, vol. i. ch. xvi.
 
 244 - v ^- Ff^SEV'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 schools of the Druids and the bards. Received with dis- 
 tinction in Leinster, he passed into Connaught, where a like 
 success awaited him. Among the local magnates who gave 
 him a hospitable welcome, was the Prince of Hy-Brinn or 
 Breifne, Aedfind, the ancestor of the O'Rourkes and O'Reillys. 
 While sojourning in this part of the country, he fell in love 
 with Gelesia, the daughter of Aedfind. She, a Christian, won 
 him over to the true faith, and then, under very romantic 
 circumstances, though much to her father's displeasure, 
 married him. 
 
 Authorities are not agreed in assigning the birthplace of 
 Fursey, the illustrious issue of this alliance. Some will have 
 it that he first saw the light in an island of Lough Orbsen 
 (Corrib), whither his parents had fled to escape the wrath of 
 Aedfind ; l while others, with more probability, state that 
 Munster was his patria or country, and that he was not born 
 until Fintan had brought his wife home to his native place. 
 
 However this may have been, his childhood was passed in 
 the south, and his education carefully attended to in his 
 father's house. Very early in life he received a call to dedicate 
 himself to religion ; and when the proper time came, he set 
 out for the shores of Lough Corrib, with a view to pursue his 
 sacred studies in a district famous even then for the saintly 
 men sojourning within its bounds, and for the monastic estab- 
 lishments flourishing on the bosky mainland, and in the 
 islands dotting the broad expanse of the lake. 
 
 The goal of his pilgrimage was the island already alluded 
 to, lying, with its primeval woods and holy solitudes, about a 
 mile off the eastern shore. A special halo invested this 
 sanctuary, owing to the fact that the great St. Brendan had 
 chosen it for the home of his venerable age ; and, after his 
 mystic voyage on the Western Ocean, his missionary wander- 
 ings in foreign countries, his apostolic labours in Erin, and his 
 arduous government of immense monasteries and colleges, 
 had built a chapel and a cell on the island, and retired thither 
 to await the hour of death and of deliverance. The " Patriarch 
 of Monks " was not alone in this retreat. St. Moeni, who had 
 
 1 The Rev. J. O'Hanlon, with good reason, excludes from his account 
 of St. Fursey's parentage a wild legend in relation to the circumstances 
 preceding and accompanying the saint's birth. The curious story, how- 
 ever, will be found in The Irish Builder, May 15, June I, 1884.
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 245 
 
 been with him on his seven years' voyage, was also with him 
 on the island. St. Meldan likewise became his disciple, and 
 took up his abode in the same retreat. Probably these were 
 not the only companions of his solitude. But whether the 
 cenobites were few or many, the place must still have been a 
 solitude when compared with the religious and scholastic 
 colony he had governed at Clonfert, where three thousand 
 monks dwelt in one community, and a vast concourse of 
 students attended the schools. 1 
 
 After St. Brendan's demise, the governance of the ccenobium 
 devolved on Meldan Mac Ui Cuinn, under whose rule it grew 
 into a large monastic establishment, famous throughout the 
 country. Meldan was of royal extraction, being of the race of 
 Con of the Hundred Battles, Monarch of Ireland in the second 
 century. The sept of Hui Cuinn, as the descendants of Con 
 were called, had possession of the country about Lough 
 Corrib ; and the island we are speaking of was a part of their 
 patrimony. Meldan therefore, " Abbot and Bishop of Lough 
 Orbsen, in Connaught," was, in every sense of the word, on 
 his own ground when he trod the pathways of the holy isle. 
 Doubtless many of his kinsfolk joined the recluses, and dwelt 
 under the abbot's paternal rule. His brothers were undoubtedly 
 of the number of his spiritual sons, for history records that the 
 monastery was built about 580 by St. Meldan and his brothers. 
 
 It is not expressly mentioned that a school formed part 
 of the establishment on the island ; but we may be tolerably 
 certain that this settlement formed no exception to the general 
 rule at a time when Irish monasteries were seats of learning, 
 and when even anchorites in their lonely cells, and religious 
 women secluded from the world, were subject to the visits, and 
 
 1 St. Brendan did not die on the island, but on the mainland, not far 
 off, at Annadown, whither he had gone to visit his sister, St. Briga, for 
 whom he had built a nunnery in that place, under the invocation of the 
 Blessed Virgin. After the oblation of the sacrifice, as an ancient life of 
 the saint records, he said to his sister : "Commend my departure in your 
 prayers." And Briga said: "What do you fear?" "I fear," he re- 
 plied, "if I go alone, and if the journey be dark the unknown region, 
 the presence of the King, and the sentence of the Judge." The saint was 
 called to his reward on Sunday, the i6th of May 577. His remains were 
 removed for interment to the great monastery near the Shannon, of which 
 he had been the first abbot. Tradition has it, that the funeral procession 
 extended the whole way from Annadown to Clonfert, a distance of more 
 than twenty miles.
 
 246 ST. FCSRSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 not indifferent to the claims, of those who sought instruction 
 at their hands. Strange it would have been if the abbot were 
 not called upon to train the youth of his clan in sacred and 
 secular knowledge. His insular domain was within easy access 
 of the frail, hide-covered coracles in which the natives of that 
 region skimmed the translucent waters. The sound of St. 
 Meldan's bell could be heard on the wood-fringed shore ; and 
 across the placid lake the chant of the Gaelic monks those 
 masters in sacred song was borne far and wide by the wander- 
 ing wind. Not, indeed, that the convenient situation of their 
 seminary made much matter to the eager students. When 
 youths began their school-life, they encamped in wattle huts 
 (the work of their own hands), close to the cashel or circular 
 wall enclosing the group of monastic cells and the little church 
 of primitive construction ; and there they remained until they 
 had got the instruction they required in doctrine, in arts, and 
 in industry. For, nurtured as they were on piety, poetry, and 
 "grammar," they were, nevertheless, put through a healthful 
 course of industrial training. They had all the chieftain's 
 child as well as the clansman's to follow the example of the 
 monks, and contribute by the labour of their hands to the sup- 
 port of the establishment. No college fees were exacted, nor 
 was the community burdensome to any. Work and study, 
 high thinking and low living, comprised the rule alike of 
 professors and scholars in those old-world academies. 
 
 Meldan's monastery became so celebrated that the island 
 shared in the renown of the founder, and was distinguished 
 from the neighbouring isles by the appellation of Inis mac Hua 
 chin, the Island of the Sons of Con. Even Lough Orbsen 
 received a reflected honour, and was sometimes called by a 
 name signifying that it was the lake that bore on its breast the 
 island of Inchiquin. 1 
 
 The monastery founded by the descendants of Con of the 
 Hundred Battles was already in a flourishing condition when 
 the youthful Fursey arrived from southern Munster to complete 
 his education under the monks, and embrace the religious life 
 in the island monastery. 
 
 1 For many succeeding ages St. Meldan's festival was celebrated in this 
 island on the 7th of February. A moat or rath is the only feature of 
 antiquity now marked on its surface, which, moreover, has been denuded 
 of its natural growth of wood.
 
 ST. FURSEY >S LIFE AND VISIONS 247 
 
 Though the abbot may have early discerned the gifts, and 
 augured well from the virtues, of his disciple, he could hardly 
 have divined that be himself should become famous in far- 
 distant lands as the spiritual father of St. Fursey ; or that his 
 relics would be carried abroad and enshrined in the banks of 
 the Somme by the loving hands of that illustrious son. Having 
 remained for several years under St. Meldan's tutelage, Fursey, 
 according to some authorities, repaired to the islands of Arran 
 for study and edification, and sojourned for a while with the 
 holy recluses dwelling in those ocean solitudes. Returning to 
 Inchiquin a greater proficient in the science of the saints, he 
 was advised by the abbot to build a monastery of his own and 
 assemble a religious community around him. Following this 
 counsel, Fursey, early in the seventh century, formed a settle- 
 ment at a place called Rathmat, now identified as Killursa or 
 Kill-Fursa (Fursey's Church), situated nearly opposite Inchiquin, 
 and about two miles from the lake. To build a monastery in 
 those days was by no means a stupendous undertaking. 
 Nothing more was necessary than to clear a site, fell some 
 trees, construct huts or cells of the wattles and timber, and 
 encompass the cluster of rude edifices with a hedge or a wall, 
 as the case might be. The little church, standing in the 
 midst, would be of a superior style, constructed of planed 
 timber, or, in rare instances, of cyclopean masonry. Of course, 
 in districts where stone abounded, in exposed situations on the 
 sea-coast, on the precipitous islands lashed by the Atlantic 
 surge, the monastic settlements assumed a far greater solidity. 
 But the wattle encampment was the usual style. It is quite 
 possible that Fursey may have erected the small church, many 
 ages ago incorporated with a larger structure, which, now in 
 ruins, attracts the attention of the curious, and beguiles the 
 feet of archaeologists to Kill-Fursa. The original cyclopean 
 west gable, with its Egyptian-looking doorway, is embedded in 
 the later, yet still ancient, masonry ; and the learned in such 
 matters are of opinion that this vestige of primaeval architecture 
 cannot be less than twelve hundred years old. 1 
 
 When the settlement at Rathmat, or Kill-Fursa, was suffi- 
 
 1 For a description of the ruins of Kill-Fursa, see Sir W. Wilde's 
 Lough Corrib, and an article on the Cyclopean Churches of Loughs Corrib, 
 Mask, and Carra, in the Journal of the Historical and Archaological 
 Association of Ireland, July 1868.
 
 248 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 ciently established, the pious founder resolved to make a 
 journey to the home in Munster, which he had left so many 
 years before and had not since revisited. Some changes 
 had taken place meanwhile in the little kingdom. Finlog had 
 died, and his son Fintan, elected according to the custom of 
 the country, reigned in his stead. In this expedition, the 
 abbot's purpose seems to have been to promote the spiritual 
 welfare of his own people, and to induce some of his kinsfolk 
 to join him, on his return to Rathmat, and place themselves 
 under instruction at the monastery. 
 
 Fursey had not long arrived at his destination when a sudden 
 illness seized him. He became so enfeebled that his friends 
 fancied his last hour was at hand. Recovering himself, how- 
 ever, he arose, and, supporting himself with difficulty on the 
 arm of a companion, went out, walked a few steps from the 
 house, and began to recite the evening office. Completely 
 absorbed in prayer, his lips murmured the words of the sacred 
 psalmody. Suddenly he felt himself enveloped in darkness. 
 All power of movement forsook him, and he was carried back 
 into the house apparently in a dying state. 
 
 Presently, in the midst of the dense obscurity, he perceived 
 that four hands stretched downwards towards him, caught him 
 by the arms, and bore him aloft. After a while, becoming 
 more accustomed to the darkness, he plainly discerned four 
 great wings expanded upwards, and white as the driven snow. 
 The hands and wings he could now distinctly see, but the rest 
 of the angelic forms were only dimly visible. But when they 
 had ascended still higher, he was able to distinguish the 
 beauteous faces of his conductors, illumined with a wondrous 
 glory; or rather, his eyes were filled with the radiance ema- 
 nating from their faces, though he could not, on account of 
 the excess of brilliance, distinguish any corporeal form. At 
 the same time he became conscious that a third angel walked 
 on before him, clothed in luminous vesture, carrying a white 
 shield, and armed with a sword keen as a flash of lightning. 
 The marvellous splendour of the angels, the harmonious 
 rustling of their wings, the melody of their songs, and the 
 divine beauty of their aspect, penetrated his soul with inex- 
 pressible delight. For, as they moved along they sang the 
 first angel intoning the opening phrase, the others joining in 
 and continuing the chant. And the burden of their song was
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 249 
 
 this The saints shall advance from virtue to virtue, the God of 
 gods shall be seen in Zion. Higher and higher rose the voices, 
 the psalmody rolling on in ever-increasing power ; and then 
 the music sank in dulcet modulation, and seemed to die away 
 in the ethereal distance, until, caught up again by myriads of 
 angelic voices, the strain burst forth into a resounding chorus, 
 of which Fursey could distinguish one verse only They shall 
 come out before the face of Christ. All the heavenly faces which 
 he now beheld seemed to him alike, but the light was so 
 dazzling that it veiled the corporeal form and hid it from his 
 view. 
 
 Fain would he have tarried in this world of indescribable 
 splendour and harmony, but it could not be, he must fill up 
 the term of his earthly probation ; and the angels, promising to 
 return to him before long, led him back to life. 
 
 Meanwhile the night had passed away, and the crowing of 
 the cock announced the rising morn. The music of the 
 heavenly choirs no longer filled his ear. Nothing was audible 
 but the dissonance of human voices wailing and lamenting. 
 At that moment those who were standing round the inanimate 
 body uncovered the face ; a faint blush mantled the pale cheeks, 
 and the servant of God, opening his eyes, addressed the 
 mourners, and asked them wherefore they lamented and why 
 so great a rout was made. Thereupon the men related all that 
 had occurred, telling him how on the previous evening he had 
 expired, and how they had remained ever since in the same 
 spot, watching beside his corpse. Then Fursey arose. The 
 splendid and gracious presence of the angels came back to his 
 remembrance, and, recollecting that they had promised to 
 return, he regretted that he had not beside him some wise and 
 prudent man to whom he might recount all that he had seen 
 and heard. And in order that the angels on their return might 
 not find him unprepared, he asked to receive the Communion 
 of the Body and Blood of the spotless Lamb. Thus he re- 
 mained all that day and the next in a state of great exhaustion. 
 
 But in the night, about the hour of tierce, while relatives, 
 friends, and several of the neighbours were assembled in the 
 house, he was again wrapped in sudden darkness. His feet 
 grew stiff and cold ; and extending his hands in the attitude of 
 prayer, he awaited death in joyful expectation, for he remem- 
 bered the enchanting vision of which these signs had been the
 
 250 .ST. FCKSy : S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 forerunners once before. Overpowered, as it were, with sleep, 
 he fell back on his couch. Immediately his ears were assailed 
 with terrific cries, as of countless voices shouting and bidding 
 him depart out of the body and come away. But, opening his 
 eyes, he saw only the three angels standing at his side. The 
 voices of men were hushed, and their forms had vanished. 
 Already the heavenly orchestra and the beauty of the celestial 
 visitants filled him with delight. The angel at his right hand 
 said to him : " Be not afraid ; you shall be defended." 
 
 They bore him upwards, ascending higher and higher, until 
 the roof of his dwelling sank out of sight. Onwards he went, 
 amidst the outcries and howlings of demons calling to one 
 another to stop his progress, while he could distinctly hear one 
 of the infernal spirits summoning the rest to come on and wage 
 war before his face. On his left he saw, as it were, a dark 
 cloud sweeping onwards a whirlwind of hellish shapes twisted 
 together in horrible confusion. Presently these writhing forms 
 became disentangled, and marshalled their ranks in battle array 
 before him. As far as his eye could reach, the figures of the 
 demons showed black and terrible ; while their long distended 
 necks, their lean visages, and great bullet heads awakened 
 feelings of the utmost loathing. When they flew hither and 
 thither, or rushed to battle, he could distinguish nothing but a 
 sinister shadow, an incompact mass of dreadful shapes, enough 
 to make the soul wither away with fear. Moreover, their 
 features were obscured by the denseness of the shadow in 
 which they were immersed ; just as, on the other hand, he had 
 not been able to discern the traits of the angelic faces in the 
 excess of light that surrounded them. 
 
 Forthwith began the onslaught of the-satanic hosts. The 
 demons shot their fiery arrows against the servant of God ; but 
 the darts struck the white buckler of the warrior angel, and fell 
 away, innoxious and extinguished.' In the presence of the 
 angel equipped for the contest, the hostile ranks were over- 
 thrown. " Bar not the passage," said the angel, remonstrating 
 with his adversaries ; " it is of no avail. This man has no part 
 in your perdition." But the devils, awfully blaspheming, 
 clamoured for their prey, crying out that it was unjust of God 
 to save sinners from damnation when it was written, that : Not 
 only they who sin, but they who agree with sinners are worthy of 
 death. Still the contest continued, and it seemed to Fursey
 
 ST. FURSEY >S LIFE AND VISIONS 251 
 
 that the thunder and clash of the combat must be heard 
 throughout the whole earth. 
 
 Satan, though vanquished, raised his head again like a serpent 
 crushed but venomous. "Many times," he shrieked, "has 
 this man spoken idle words, and he must not enjoy eternal 
 life without expiating his sins." " Not so," replied the guardian 
 spirit ; " if you can bring up no capital accusations against him, 
 he shall not perish for venial faults." Then urged the reviler : 
 " If you will not forgive men, neither will your Father forgive you 
 your sins." " When did He take revenge ? " replied the angel ; 
 " or whom did He ever injure ?" " It is not written," said the 
 demon, " that you must not revenge yourself, but If you do not 
 forgive from your heart." " Forgiveness was in his heart," 
 answered the angel, " though, yielding somewhat to a human 
 custom, he did not outwardly show it." Then, persisted Satan : 
 "Since he has contaminated himself with the sinful habits of 
 men, he shall receive sentence from the Supreme Judge." " Be 
 it so," concluded the angel. " He shall be arraigned before 
 the Lord." 
 
 Repulsed for the third time, the old serpent's venom was 
 not yet exhausted. " If God is a just God, this man shall 
 never enter into eternal life ; for it stands recorded : Unless 
 you be converted and become as little children, you shall not enter 
 into the kingdom of heaven. Fursey has by no means fulfilled 
 this precept." " He shall be judged before the Lord," was 
 again the angel's answer. And then the signal for the fight 
 once more was given, and the battle raged until the hosts of 
 hell were overthrown. 
 
 Then the angel on the right desired Fursey to look back 
 upon the world. Casting his eyes downward, he beheld a dark 
 and obscure valley underneath him, and saw four great fires 
 kindled there at some distance from one another. And as he 
 could not, in answer to the angel's query, tell what these fires 
 might signify, his heavenly conductor said : " These are the 
 four fires that consume the world, even though all sin was 
 effaced by baptism, by faith in Christ, and by renouncing Satan 
 with all his works and pomps. The first is falsehood ; for men 
 fail to fulfil the engagement they made in baptism to renounce 
 the devil and his works. The second is covetousness, which 
 sets a higher value on the riches of the world than on heavenly 
 things. The third is dissension ; for men do not hesitate, even
 
 252 ST. FL'RSEY'-S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 in needless matters, to injure the soul of their neighbour. And 
 the fourth is iniquity ; for they think little of dealing deceitfully 
 and despoiling the poor." 
 
 And while they were yet speaking, the fires spread far and 
 wide, until, uniting in one vast conflagration, the flames 
 approached to where Fursey and the angels stood. Filled with 
 dread, he cried to the guardian spirit : " See, the fire rushes on 
 to destroy me ! " But the angel, reassuring him, bade him 
 have no fear. " The fire you have not kindled," he said, 
 " never will consume you. Great and terrible as these flames 
 are, they burn only in proportion to the measure of each man's 
 sins. For all iniquity shall be consumed in him ; and as the 
 body is inflamed with sinful desires, so shall the soul feel the 
 scorching pain in just retribution." Then one of the angels, 
 going before, opened a way through the furnace, the flames 
 rising up like a wall on either hand, and the other protecting 
 spirits, spreading their wings and shielding him, on each side. 
 The fires were alive with unclean spirits flying about, exciting 
 a horrible commotion in the midst of the flames, and arming 
 for a new contest. Immediately the battle began again. One 
 of the devils, raising his voice, cried out : " Surely, The servant 
 who knows the will of his Lord, and doth it not, shall be beaten 
 with many stripest " " And in what," inquired the angel, " has 
 this man failed to do the behests of his Master ? " " He has 
 accepted the gifts of the wicked," was the rejoinder. " But 
 he believed they had repented of their sins," said his defender. 
 " He ought to have waited," retorted the accuser, " until they 
 gave proof of the sincerity of their repentance before he received 
 their presents ; for Gifts blind the eyes of the wise, and destroy 
 the words of the just" The angel answered : " He shall be 
 judged before the Lord." 
 
 Once more the arch-deceiver, worsted in his attack, vomited 
 forth blasphemies against the Creator. " Hitherto we used to 
 believe in a God of truth," he shrieked, " but we were mistaken. 
 Did not the prophet Isaiah affirm that the sin which was not 
 punished on earth should be purged in the next world when 
 he cried to the Jews : If you be willing and will hearken to me, 
 you shall eat the good things of the land. But if you will not, 
 and provoke me to wrath, the sword shall devour you ? Now this 
 man did not expiate his sins while on earth, and he is not receiv- 
 ing chastisement here. Where, then, is God's justice ? " " Cease
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 253 
 
 to blaspheme," broke in the indignant angel; "you know not 
 the secret judgments of the Lord." "What secret is there 
 here?" persisted Satan. "As long as there is hope of repent- 
 ance," rejoined the angel, " the Divine Mercy never abandons 
 the human soul." " But there is no time here for repentance," 
 objected the Evil One. " Perchance there may be," observed 
 the heavenly spirit ; " you cannot fathom the depth of the 
 mysteries of God." Then the demon, silenced on this side 
 also, shouted to his satellites to depart and leave them, since 
 there was no justice to be expected. 
 
 But another of the accursed troop broke in : " Wait ; there 
 is still a narrow gate, which few succeed in passing through. 
 Let us lie in ambush for him there. It is written : Thou shalt 
 love thy neighbour as thyself." The angel answered, that Fursey 
 had done good to his neighbour ; but the adversary rejoined, 
 that it was not enough to do good, unless he loved his neighbour 
 as himself. To which it was replied, that the performance of 
 good deeds was the fruit of charity, and that God would render 
 to everyone according to his works. But the demon insisted 
 that the man's charity did not fulfil the precept, and that he 
 had earned damnation. Then the infernal host hurried for- 
 ward to give battle. But the heavenly spirits came off victorious 
 in the contest. 
 
 Defeated for the sixth time, the demon, still according to his 
 wont, flew into a passion of impious rage, saying that if God 
 was not unjust, if falsehood and the breaking of promises were 
 really displeasing in His sight, Fursey could not escape con- 
 demnation ; for though he engaged to renounce the world, he 
 had loved the world, contrary to the precept of the apostle when 
 he said : Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world; 
 he had been deterred neither by his own promise nor by the 
 command of the apostle. To which the angel replied, that 
 Fursey valued not the goods of the world for his own advantage, 
 but that he might distribute them to the needy. " No matter 
 in what way the riches of the world are prized," insisted the 
 the old serpent, "it is against the law of God and contrary to 
 the Christian obligation of baptism." 
 
 Again the angels prevailed, and their adversaries retreated 
 before them. But Satan returned to pursue his insidious 
 attacks: " If thou wilt not announce to the unjust man his 
 iniquity, I will require his blood at thy hand. Thus it stands
 
 2 5 4 ST. FUXSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 written," he said ; " and this man has not preached repentance 
 to sinners, as he was bound to do." Answering him, the angel 
 said : " Yet also it stands written : The prudent shall keep silence 
 at that time, for it is an evil time ; and when hearers despise the 
 word, the teacher's tongue is tied." But the wily enemy urged : 
 " The truth must be preached despite of suffering, despite of 
 death. One should neither consent nor hold his peace." 
 
 Thus, fiercely disputing and fighting, the demons raged, until 
 at length, by the judgment of God, victory remained with the 
 angels, and their adversaries were utterly routed. 
 
 Then around the saint a flood of light was shed ; and the 
 angels and the elect burst forth into a canticle, singing of the 
 shortness of time and the lightness of labour when compared 
 with the eternity of glory that is won by the faithful soul. 
 Fursey was transported with delight ; and raising his eyes, he 
 beheld a multitudinous host resplendent as the sun ; and the 
 shimmer of their wings was like the rippling of waves on a 
 luminous sea. These blessed ones drew near and surrounded 
 him ; and the trouble and the terror into which the fire and the 
 demons had thrown him were banished far away. And also 
 appeared two venerable men of his own nation, whom he knew 
 on earth and thought were dead. Approaching, they told him 
 they were Beoan and Meldan, and entered familiarly into 
 conversation with him. 
 
 At this moment, in the serene distance of the heavens, an 
 ethereal gate opened wide its portals. Two angels entered in 
 through the opening ; and immediately the celestial radiance 
 encircled them with a still greater intensity, while the pure 
 spirits abiding in that inner heaven sang, in four alternate 
 choirs, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts. And while his 
 soul was inebriated with the ineffable joys and enchanting 
 psalmody of paradise, the bright cohorts of the celestial army 
 marshalled their ranks on each side of him. One of the blessed 
 spirits asked him if he knew whence issued these joyous 
 acclamations ; and as he could not tell, the angel said : " It is 
 from the choirs of heaven, of which we form a part." The 
 song meanwhile rose higher and higher, with a more thrilling 
 and penetrating harmony; and Fursey, bewildered with joy, 
 supposing that the music was for his delectation, said to the 
 guardian spirit : " My soul is enraptured in listening to these 
 heavenly sounds." " It is a delight," replied the angel, "of which
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 255 
 
 we are oftentimes deprived while engaged in the service of men. 
 And yet, after all our labour, the Evil One destroys our work 
 by corrupting the human heart. In this realm of peace and 
 purity," he added, "no judgment is pronounced except against 
 the wickedness of mankind." Fursey's soul was completely 
 absorbed in the transports and festivities of heaven. 
 
 And now, from the invisible paradise, came forth Meldan and 
 Beoan, clothed in glory like the angels ; and, drawing near to 
 Fursey, they directed him to return to the earth and resume his 
 mortal life. In speechless tribulation this order was received ; 
 and while the angels were engaged in restoring their sorrow- 
 stricken charge, the saints said to him : "Why are you afraid? 
 Your earthly course will seem no more than a single day's 
 journey. Go forth and announce to mankind that the day of 
 justice draws nigh." Fursey then inquired of them whether the 
 dissolution of the world was at hand. They replied that the 
 time had not yet come, though it was not far off; that famine 
 and pestilence would first afflict mankind ; and that a sign 
 should be seen in the sun. 
 
 Beoan continued for a long time speaking to Fursey, showing 
 how the anger of God was hanging over the people, threatening 
 especially their princes and teachers. In grave discourse, 
 worthy of God and of heaven, he imparted salutary counsels 
 and instruction, which he charged Fursey to transmit to Ireland. 
 " Depart now," he said in conclusion, " and tell the princes ot 
 the land that they must renounce iniquity, do penance, and 
 work out their salvation. Declare to the rulers of the Church 
 that God is a jealous God when the world is preferred before 
 Him, and that to neglect the care of souls is to serve the 
 world." 
 
 Then the multitude of the blessed who had been with 
 Fursey vanished, and he remained alone with his three angels. 
 Immediately they began their earthward journey, and soon 
 approached the fiery furnace. As on the first occasion, the 
 angel walked in advance, opening a passage and driving back 
 the flames on the right hand and the left. But behold ! from 
 the midst of the flames a human form, hurled by the demons, 
 struck against the saint's shoulder, and the reprobate's cheek 
 touched the living man's jaw. Fursey felt his shoulder and 
 cheek burn, and he understood that this was the person who 
 on his deathbed bequeathed to him a garment. The angel
 
 256 .yy. FL'/?s]' : s LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 seized the lost one and cast him back into the fire. But the 
 malign spirit cried : " Why do you reject what you once 
 accepted ? You had a share in this one's goods; take now your 
 portion of his punishment." The angel replied, that it was not 
 from avarice that Fursey had accepted the gift, but for the 
 good of the man's soul. The fire approached no nearer. 
 However, the angel said : " The fire you kindled has burned 
 you ; if you had not accepted the present of the man who died 
 in his sins, you would not have felt in your body the fire of his 
 chastisement." And then the heavenly guardian exhorted him 
 in his turn to preach repentance to mankind. 
 
 Fursey now found himself near to the earth, and directly 
 over his own dwelling; yet he recognised neither the house 
 nor the crowd of mourners, nor even his own body lying before 
 him. And when the angel commanded him to assume again 
 his mortal vesture, he feared to approach, not knowing in the 
 least what corpse that was. " Shake off this fear," said the 
 angel ; " even in this earthly tenement you can keep yourself 
 from infirmity and evil. You have triumphed, even now, 
 over the assaults of the Wicked One ; he shall never prevail 
 against you." Casting his eyes on the inanimate form, he 
 saw the breast opening as if to receive his soul. Bidding him 
 farewell, the angel said : " Pour spring water over your limbs, 
 and you will feel no pain, except in the place where the fire 
 touched you. Devote yourself to good works all the days of 
 your life. We shall follow your steps without ceasing, and in 
 the end receive you with joy into our company in heaven." 
 
 Awakening as if from the deep repose of death, Fursey 
 arose, and looking around, saw a crowd of his relations and 
 neighbours, and the people of the church, standing in the 
 place. Then he sighed, thinking of the magnitude of human 
 folly. And considering how perilous and difficult a passage 
 death is, and how divine the reward of those who reach the 
 abode of the blessed, he related in order all the things he had 
 witnessed. He asked to have fresh water from the fountain 
 poured over him, and this being done, the mark became 
 visible of the burn which the damned one inflicted on him. 
 Strange that the body should bear the mark of the pain which 
 the soul alone had suffered ! l 
 
 1 This version of St. Fursey's vision is nearly altogether translated 
 from M. L. Tachet de Barneval's Histoire Legendairt de flrlandc. The
 
 ST. FVRSEV'S LIFE AND VISIONS 2 5 7 
 
 Obedient to the instructions he had received in his mar- 
 vellous vision, Fursey lost no time in retracing his steps to 
 Lough Corrib, and preparing for the mission he now must 
 undertake. His journey to South Munster had not been 
 fruitless a warm welcome had been given to him by his kins- 
 folk ; and on his departure from the principality, he had the 
 consolation of being joined by his brothers Foillan and Ultan, 
 who resolved to dedicate their life to the service of God 
 under monastic discipline. Leaving these young men in the 
 care of the monks, and resigning the government of Rathmat 
 into competent hands, the abbot bade adieu to the solitudes 
 he loved, and set forth to preach to princes and prelates, to 
 gentle and simple alike, exhorting all to do penance, save 
 themselves from the evils to come, and aspire after the blessed- 
 ness of which he himself had lately had so astonishing a 
 revelation. Eloquence, prompted by the awful experiences of 
 a soul assailed by satanic wrath and wile, and inspired by the 
 ineffable joys prepared for the victors over sin and sorrow, 
 could not fail in power to exhort, entreat, arouse, and win to 
 God. During a year he preached assiduously, spending him- 
 self in labours for the salvation of the people, and reaping a 
 rich harvest wherever he sowed the good seed. 
 
 On the anniversary of the memorable day when the terrors 
 that encounter the disembodied soul and the glory that awaits 
 the just had been disclosed to him, he fell again into a trance, 
 and, save for a feeble fluttering of the heart, he seemed to 
 die. That night the angel of the Lord appeared to him, 
 instructed him minutely in the manner of announcing the 
 doctrine of salvation, and informed him that his labours in 
 Ireland should be continued for twelve years. Strengthened 
 and consoled by converse with God's messenger, Fursey was 
 able to receive the divine command, and to face the difficul- 
 ties, the toils, and the long-enduring course of this onerous 
 apostolate. Traversing a great part of the country, he carried 
 on his ministry with the zeal of an apostle and the self- 
 oblation of a saint, the multitude hanging on his words, and 
 miracles confirming the doctrine which he taught Trials, 
 
 accomplished author of that work has, in the chapter devoted to our saint, 
 drawn his material from the earliest sources. For this reason, it appears 
 to me that his presentment of the legend is at once more interesting and 
 more genuine than later and " improved" renderings. 
 
 17
 
 2 5 2 ST. FtfRSEY'S LIFE AND VlSIOtfS 
 
 however, were not wanting. Envy stirred up hostility in 
 certain quarters, seeking to frustrate the efficacy of his 
 mission ; while, on the other hand, the pressure of the crowd, 
 insatiable in their desire to hear his exhortations, and urgent 
 for his help and counsel, became so excessive as to be well- 
 nigh unendurable. When, therefore, the appointed term of 
 his missionary labours in Ireland had been accomplished, he 
 was glad to be released from the cares and distractions of the 
 public ministry, and sought refuge once more in solitude. 
 
 Taking with him his brothers and some other companions, 
 he retired to a little island lying off the coast, founded a 
 religious settlement within its bounds, and, protected from the 
 inroads of the greater world by the stormy defence of winds 
 and waves, enjoyed for a happy interval the meditative calm 
 from which he had been too long estranged. 
 
 After some time, however, the call of God was again heard 
 summoning him away, and bidding him carry the light of the 
 gospel to populations sitting in the darkness of infidelity, or 
 lapsed from the practice of the faith which their fathers had 
 received. Setting his sails towards Britain with a detachment 
 of disciples, including his ever-faithful and pious brothers, he 
 touched at the isles that lay in his course, sowing the good 
 seed as he went. Having reached the mainland, these mis- 
 sionary exiles proceeded still in the same manner, working, 
 that is to say preaching, their way from post to post, receiving 
 a welcome wherever they turned, and leaving behind them a 
 salutary influence and a grateful remembrance. At length 
 they reached the kingdom of East Anglia, on the farther coast 
 of Britain. 1 
 
 We are not told whether the Irish monks were invited to 
 evangelise East Anglia, or whether their steps were directed 
 thitherward by a secret inspiration. Probably they were pressed 
 to come; for Sigebert n., surnamed the Learned, who then 
 ruled that territory, was exceedingly zealous for the welfare of 
 his subjects, and had already done much for the promotion of 
 Christianity and civilisation throughout his dominions. Some 
 time before, he had requested that a man of learning and 
 sanctity should be sent to him from the famous monastery 
 flourishing at Canterbury, to aid him in carrying out plans for 
 the education of the people. Felix, the Burgundian, a man of 
 1 St. Fursey arrived in England some time between 633 and 639.
 
 ST. PURSE Y^S LIFE AMD VISIONS. 239 
 
 note and capacity, was despatched on this mission. Teachers 
 were procured, a school was opened, and Felix, having been 
 appointed bishop, fixed his see at Dunwich. To carry on the 
 work so dear to king and prelate, and to ensure that the 
 population at large should be instructed in the truths of 
 salvation, and trained in the practices of Christian life, a 
 colony of missionary monks was indispensable. None knew 
 better than Sigebert how qualified for the task were the Irish 
 religious of this vocation ; for, while an exile from his native 
 land in his earlier years, he was himself converted and baptized 
 in Gaul by St. Columbanus, and witnessed the apostolic zeal and 
 marvellous success of that great missioner and his companions. 
 He saw how welcome to princes anxious for the improvement 
 of their subjects were a company of those saintly pioneers 
 fresh from the Western Isle. 1 In fact, his great desire on 
 succeeding to the throne was to see inaugurated in his own 
 dominions the missionary work so successfully carried on in 
 foreign countries. At anyrate, whatever the manner of their 
 coming may have been, there is no doubt of the welcome the 
 
 1 Dr. Wattenbach, an eminent historical antiquary, in a tract on the 
 Irish Monasteries in Germany, translated by Dean Reeves, and published in 
 the Ulster Journal of Archccology, describes the striking appearance of the 
 Irish monks as they presented themselves in larger or smaller companies 
 to evangelise the nations. "Their whole outfit," says this author, "con- 
 sisted of a cantbiitta, or pilgrim's staff, a leathern water-bottle, a wallet, 
 and (what was to them the greatest treasure) a case containing some relics. 
 In this guise they appeared before the people, addressing themselves to 
 them everywhere with the whole power of their native eloquence." In 
 another passage he observes that these poor pilgrims, who always settled in 
 cities or large towns, were in general revered and liked by the citizens, and 
 were on the same friendly terms with them that the mendicant friars after- 
 wards were. "They first supplied the defect in the organisation of 
 Christian society which arose with the development of cities, for, until 
 their time, monasteries had been founded only in the solitude of the 
 country, excepting such as were attached to episcopal seats." The French 
 historian, Augustin Thierry, bears testimony to the popularity of the 
 Irish missioners, pilgrims, and scholars who resorted to the Continent, 
 and who "always gained the hearts of those whom they visited by the 
 extreme ease with which they conformed to their customs and way of life." 
 The monks asked nothing from prince or potentate but a plot of ground 
 on which to form their encampment of huts. But the great delighted to 
 honour the pious settlers, and oftentimes considerable grants were bestowed 
 on them. The whole country of Glarus was given to St. Fridolin, Mount 
 St. Victor was made a present to the monastery of St. Gall by Charles le 
 Gros, and more than one island in the Rhine belonged to Irish monks.
 
 260 ST. PVASr-S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 abbot and his disciples received in East Anglia. Every facility" 
 was given them in earning on their mission ; and forthwith, to 
 quote Venerable Bede, "Fursey began to perform his usual 
 employment of preaching the gospel, and, by the example of 
 his virtues and the efficacy of his discourse, converted many 
 unbelievers to Christ, and confirmed in His faith and love those 
 that already believed." Furthermore, in order that a per- 
 manent settlement might be made and the good work secured, 
 the king gave a plot of ground to the monks," 
 
 At this juncture the saint's angelic friends appeared to him 
 as of old. admonishing him " diligently to proceed in the work 
 he had undertaken, and indefatigably to continue his usual 
 watching and prayers." Being confirmed by this vision, con- 
 tinues the historian, "he applied himself with all speed to 
 build a monastery on the ground given him by King Sigebert, 
 and to establish regular discipline therein." 
 
 The plot of ground referred to, though moderate in extent, 
 was yet amply sufficient for the requirements of a religious 
 settlement constructed in the manner of the Irish. But its 
 position and its associations rendered it a gift worthy of the 
 generous prince who bestowed it on the strangers. Situated not 
 far from the sea at the juncture of two rivers, backed by natural 
 woods, and commanding a wide view over land and water, the 
 field, some five acres in extent, was enclosed on three sides by 
 a massive wall, flanked with solid circular towers apt for watch 
 and ward, while on the fourth the flowing stream formed a 
 scarcely less effective bulwark. In a word, St. Fursey found 
 himself in possession of what was once the Roman station and 
 camp of Ganianonum, a fortress built in the reign of the 
 Emperor Claudius by the Pro-Pnetor Pubiius Ostiorius 
 Scapula when he conquered the people inhabiting the country, 
 afterwards subdivided into the counties of Suffolk, Norfolk, 
 Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdonshire. 1 The area on which 
 the monks now raised their huts had been the quarters of a 
 body of cavalry called the Stablesden Horse, whose command- 
 
 1 Castles and towers ranged along the walls constructed by the Romans 
 as a defence against the unsubdued tribes that surrounded their colonies in 
 Britain. These fortresses were constantly garrisoned by armed men. The 
 stations were so near to each other, that if a beacon was lighted on any 
 one of the bulwarks the warriors who garrisoned the next station were 
 able to see and to repeat the signal almost at the same instant, and the 
 next onwards did the same, by which token they announced that some
 
 57*. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 261 
 
 ing officer was styled Ganionnensis. When the Imperial 
 Legions vanished from the scene, the lofty walls indeed 
 remained, but the name of the fortress was forgotten. Gania- 
 nonum of the Romans became Cnobbersburgh of the Saxons, 
 and by this designation, derived from a neighbouring village, 
 St. Fursey's monastic establishment was known. From his 
 headquarters in the Roman castrum he also in his turn 
 directed operations levying war against the powers of evil, 
 and pushing on the conquests of Christianity and civilisation 
 throughout the East Anglian territory. 1 
 
 Bede speaks of Cnobbersburgh as a noble monastery, and 
 says that after Sigebert's death his successor and the nobility 
 of the province embellished it with more stately buildings and 
 donations. Many of the young men of the country joined the 
 monks; and the community was increased, no doubt, from 
 time to time, by accessions from Ireland. 
 
 Offshoots from the central station were established in 
 different parts of the country; and among the foundations 
 made at this time by St Fursey were examples of the so-called 
 double monasteries institutions which, originating in Ireland, 
 and subsequently introduced into other countries, have left 
 some interesting traces in history. In these monasteries com- 
 munities of men and women dwelt within the same enclosure, 
 though, of course, in separate domiciles. In some instances 
 
 danger was impending. The coast was protected with equal care against 
 any invading enemy ; and the ancient maritime stations, Ganianonum and 
 Portus Rhutnpis, may be instanced as fine specimens of Roman skill and 
 industry. History of the Anglo-Saxons, ch. i. 
 
 1 After the Norman Conquest the place fell into the hands first of Robert 
 de Burgh, and secondly of Gilbert de Wischam, and received the name of 
 Burgh Castle, by which it is known at the present day. Henry III. gave 
 it to the priory of Bromholm in Norfolk, where it remained until the dissolu- 
 tion. Some years ago the castle was purchased by Sir J. P. Boileau, Bart., 
 with the design of preserving a monument which recalls so powerfully the 
 later days of Roman dominion in England. A plan of the fortress and a 
 distant view of Burgh Castle, taken in 1775, may be seen in Grose's 
 Antiqttities of England, vol. v. A nearer view, showing the Roman 
 masonry and one of the towers tufted with elder bushes, is given in the 
 History of tht Anglo-Saxons already quoted. No trace of St. Fursey's 
 monastery is discoverable within the fort ; but somewhat to the north, 
 remains of an ecclesiastical group of buildings still exist. Probably the 
 Irish monks after some time transferred their nomadic settlement to this 
 position extra mures. In an abbey church in Norfolk, not far from this 
 place, was a chapel dedicated to St. Fursey.
 
 262 ST. FURSEY' S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 the abbot was the ruling power, in others the abbess held the 
 jurisdiction. Besides religious women and priests ordained to 
 perform sacerdotal functions, there were brethren charged with 
 the duty of attending to external affairs, cultivating the farms, 
 managing the granges, and so forth. 1 
 
 During this period of his life, St. Fursey appears to have 
 been favoured with visions of a similar nature to those which 
 have been already narrated. Bede expressly mentions that 
 this heavenly intercourse was enjoyed by the saint while dwell- 
 ing in the fortress-monastery of Cnobbersburgh ; and that after 
 these sublime revelations he always took care, as he had done 
 before, to persuade all men to the practice of virtue, as well by 
 his example as by preaching. " But as for the matter of his 
 visions, he would only relate them to those who, from holy 
 zeal and desire of reformation, wished to learn the same. An 
 ancient brother of our monastery is still living," continues the 
 venerable historian, with a precious realistic touch, "who is 
 wont to declare that a very sincere and religious man told that 
 he had seen Fursey himself in the province of the East Angles, 
 and heard those visions from his mouth; adding, that though 
 it was in most sharp winter weather and a hard frost, and the 
 
 1 An interesting account of certain monasteries of this kind established 
 in England in the twelfth century may be read in a volume, now unfor- 
 tunately very scarce, entitled Lives of the English Saints, and published 
 in London forty years ago. In the life of St. Gilbert of Sempringham, 
 written, it is well known, by Father Dalgairns before he entered the 
 Catholic Church, we are told that the saint, having failed in founding a 
 community of monks at Sempringham, turned his thoughts to the young 
 maidens of the parish, and built a cloister for seven virgins adjoining the 
 church. He then established a community of lay brethren to dig, plough, 
 and labour for the support of the nuns, turning every farmhouse on his 
 estate into something like a monastery, where, throughout all the appur- 
 tenances of cow-houses, stables, and barns, all should be subject to 
 religious discipline. These brethren were clothed almost like Cistercian 
 monks, were taught to read, and had a chapter of their own. In the 
 granges around the nunnery the lay brethren were distributed ; and there 
 might be seen the blacksmith at his forge, the carter with his horses, 
 etc. Gilbert joined to his nunneries an Order of canons for the spiritual 
 direction of the nuns. France possessed some monasteries of this kind, 
 the most celebrated bein the great abbey of Fontefraud, where the abbess 
 hel-l jurisdiction over the monks as well as the nuns. Originally the 
 establishment was humble enough, and the description of it reminds one 
 of the far more ancient double monasteries of the Irish, consisting of a 
 c Election of rude huts, with two separate oratories ? ^one for the brethren 
 and the other for the sjster,
 
 ST. FURSEY' S LIFE AND VISIONS 263 
 
 man was sitting in a thin garment when he related it, yet he 
 sweated as if it had been in the greatest heat of summer, either 
 through excessive fear or spiritual consolation." 
 
 Hardly any of his supernatural experiences would have 
 seemed stranger to the saintly seer than a revelation, had he 
 received such, of the keen interest that should be exhibited in 
 his life and in his dreams by studious antiquaries walking this 
 earth more than one thousand years after his departure from 
 terrestrial scenes. Nor indeed is this fact much less surprising 
 to the reader when for the first time he becomes aware of the 
 association that links St. Fursey's name so intimately with 
 the poetry and devotion of succeeding ages. " The stranger 
 on the dank, marshy shores of the oozy Yare," says a modern 
 historian, " contemplating the lichen-encrusted walls of the 
 Roman castrementation . . . scarcely supposes that those 
 grey walls once enclosed the cell of an obscure anchorite 
 destined so strangely is the chain of causation involved to 
 exercise a mighty influence equally upon the dogma and 
 genius of Roman Christendom." The Milesian-Scot Fursseus 
 " there became enwrapped in the trances which disclosed to 
 him the secrets of the world beyond the grave." He "kindled 
 the spark which, transmitted to the inharmonious Dante of a 
 barbarous age, occasioned the first of the metrical compositions 
 from which the Divina Commedia arose.'"' l 
 
 Modern research has not discovered the name or local 
 habitation of the " inharmonious Dante " who reduced to 
 writing the wondrous narrative first orally communicated by 
 the saint himself. But the date of the transcription must be 
 somewhere in the third quarter of the seventh century, not 
 many years after the death of St. Fursey ; and the writer we 
 may fairly assume to have been one of his Anglo-Saxon 
 disciples. When the learned author above quoted speaks of 
 the mighty influence of the anchorite of Burgh Castle on the 
 dogma of Roman Christendom, he means, no doubt, to refer 
 to the singular impetus given to the devotion to the souls in 
 purgatory by the teaching of the Milesian monk, and by the 
 vivid way in which he brought before his auditory the reality 
 of the judgment which awaits the disembodied spirit in the 
 other world. Sir Francis Palgrave attributes to St. Fursey 
 and his follower.', and to the Irish monks generally, the merit 
 J Palgrave, History of Normandy and England, vol. i. p. 163.
 
 264 7- FL'XSEV'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 of popularising the devotion to the faithful departed, and 
 gives the credit of its systematic extension to the brethren of 
 the monastery of St. Gall and its ofishoot at Richenau. What 
 he says precisely is this : 
 
 ' : Fursjeus was followed by the Anglo-Saxon Drithelm, 
 similarly gifted, similarly raised up, as it was supposed, to 
 convince the faithful that sin is a fearful reality. Sermon and 
 homily repeated these legends : and the curious archaeologist 
 still recovers from the walls of the East Anglian churches the 
 fading traces of the grotesque designs by which the same 
 lessons were imparted. The well-known festival for the dead, 
 the Feast of All Souls, was not formally instituted till the 
 eleventh century ; but the dreams of the night, presented to 
 the Celtic and Saxon recluses, had long before instigated the 
 members of various monastic bodies to agree upon periodical 
 commemorations, enabling them to join in common prayer for 
 the repose of the deceased, under chastisement, but not lost, 
 and the earliest community which practised this work of 
 faith and charity were the monks assembled in the venerable 
 sanctuary founded by the countryman of Fursaeus the Scot, 
 St Columbanus, the monastery of St Gall. The neighbouring 
 house of Richenau followed this influential example. In the 
 same year, during which Charlemagne received the imperial 
 crown, St. Gall and Richenau united themselves for this pious 
 observance into one sodality." l 
 
 Picturesque legends connected with this period illustrate St. 
 Fursey's possession of that faith which can remove mountains, 
 and his well-founded trust in the miraculous aid promised to 
 the successors of the apostles in their work for the conversion 
 of nations. One of these legends relates how, on a certain 
 occasion when famine prevailed in the country, and some of 
 the monks showed signs of apprehension lest they might be 
 left without the necessaries of life, the abbot reprehended 
 them for their want of confidence in God's supporting provi- 
 dence, and enforced with striking effect the lesson he had 
 
 1 History of Normandy and England, vol. i. pp. 164, 165. A few pages 
 earlier the author thus speaks of Richenau : "Just where the Rhine rushes 
 away with youthful vigour through the Lake of Constance, is the island of 
 Richenau, the rich meadows .... The monastery, in the Carlovingian 
 era, was one of the chief colleges of the region, imparting religion and 
 instruction, light and knowledge, to all the nations and tribes around."
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 265 
 
 often given them on the text, that those who for the love of 
 God embrace a state of poverty shall never be deserted in the 
 hour of need. Taking with him his countryman, St. Lactain, 
 he went into a field belonging to the monastery, and, though 
 the sowing time had long gone by, began to dig the ground, 
 and cast seed into the furrows. Lookers-on were puzzled to 
 guess what this unseasonable diligence might mean : but far 
 more were they astonished when, three days later, the brother- 
 saints betook themselves to the field once more, and, sickle in 
 hand, began reaping the full-eared harvest that had ripened in 
 the interval. 
 
 According to another legend, when the monastery at 
 Cnobbersburgh had been erected and the church furnished 
 with the first requisites for religious worship, there still was 
 wanting one desideratum, namely a bell. An Irish abbot 
 without a bell was an unheard-of thing; and the wonder is 
 that among the brethren were none of the skilled artificers 
 usually found in such communities, whose business it was to 
 design and fashion the sacred vessels required at the altar 
 the utensils needed in the kitchen and refectory, and the 
 indispensable bells. One day, however, as the corpse of a 
 widow's son was carried into the church, and the requiem 
 service was proceeding, a stranger a heaven-sent envoy 
 suddenly appeared, and in the presence of the assembled 
 mourners presented a bell to St. Fursey. At the first sound 
 the whole scene changed. The young man came to life, and 
 the funeral train, transformed into a triumphal procession, 
 filed off by the ramparts, giving glory to God. The bell that 
 begun its mission thus happily rang on for ages with a 
 blessing in its voice, and it was believed that the country 
 over which it was audible suffered no injury from lightning or 
 storms. 1 
 
 1 Bells, first used in Christian churches about the beginning of the fifth 
 century, were introduced into Ireland by St. Patrick, who employed 
 native artificers, skilled in metal-work, to make them. Wherever he 
 preached and made a religious settlement, he left a bell. It is particularly 
 mentioned that he carried with him across the Shannon, to leave in new 
 places, a goodly supply of patens, chalices, altar books of the law, books 
 of the gospel, and fifty bells. The bells which belonged to the early 
 Irish saints, often the work of their own hands, were preserved with 
 religious veneration, either in the monasteries they founded or elsewhere, 
 under the care of hereditary keepers. They were usually four-sided, from
 
 266 ST. FLWSEr'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 Having laboured incessantly for twelve years in East Anglia, 
 St. Fursey felt the old longing after a solitary life return with 
 irresistible force. He became desirous, says Bede, "to rid 
 himself of all business of this world, and even of the monastery 
 itself, and forthwith left the same and the care of souls to his 
 brother Foillan and the priests Cobban and Dieull, and, being 
 himself free from all that was worldly, resolved to end his life 
 as a hermit. Some time earlier in our history, Ultan left the 
 monastery in order to lead a more retired life in a lonesome 
 part of the woods. Thither his brother now followed him, 
 and there he dwelt for a year, devoting his mind to heavenly 
 contemplation, and procuring by the labour of his hands such 
 things as were necessary for the support of existence. 
 
 But a longer term of the coveted solitude was not vouchsafed 
 him. About this time an inroad of the pagan Mercians, under 
 King Peuda, interrupted the peace of East Anglia, laid waste 
 the country, and led, it is supposed, to the temporary disper- 
 sion of the Cnobbersburgh monks. 1 Whether St. Fursey's 
 hermitage was in danger of discovery and destruction by the 
 enemies of the Christian name does not appear ; but the 
 apparition of a friendly stranger on the scene proved, as it 
 turned out, quite as inimical to the recluse's dream of lifelong 
 seclusion. Count Vincent Hannonia, returning to France 
 from Ireland, whither he had gone on an embassy from King 
 
 four inches to fourteen inches in height, made of plates of hammered iron 
 fastened with rivets, and brazed or -bronzed. In after times they were 
 enclosed in costly, elaborately-wrought shrines ; and in some parts of the 
 country it was customary, when a particularly solemn oath was adminis- 
 tered to swear persons on these consecrated relics. Several saints' bells, 
 together with their curious and beautiful cases, are preserved in the 
 museum of the Irish Academy and in other antiquarian collections. St. 
 Gall's bell is still shown in the monastery he founded on the banks of the 
 Steinach. 
 
 1 Sigebert, desiring to end his days in religious seclusion, had some time 
 before left his kingdom under the care of his kinsman Egric and retired 
 to one of the monasteries he had founded. Some are of opinion that 
 Cnobbersburgh was the place where he received the tonsure, others main- 
 tain that he chose Bury St. Edmunds ; however, the probability is that 
 neither of these abbeys, but a third house, was his retreat. On the 
 invasion of the Mercians, his subjects carried him by force into the battle- 
 field, trusting that his presence would animate the Christian soldiers to 
 deeds of valour. Mindful of his religious profession, the king would carry 
 nothing in his hand but a wand. The pagan invaders prevailed, Sigebert 
 and Egric were slain, and the E.ast Anglian army wa.s dispersed,
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 267 
 
 Dagobert, travelled out of the direct route to visit St. Fursey, 
 whose eminence as a missioner and fame as a preacher had 
 no doubt reached his ears while in Ireland. So deeply was 
 Count Vincent impressed by the saint's extraordinary gifts of 
 intellect, eloquence, and grace, that he became extremely 
 anxious to persuade him to pass over into Gaul and undertake 
 a mission to the Franks. Strenuously urging his appeal in 
 behalf of the multitudes sitting in darkness, the zealous noble- 
 man gained his cause. The hermit's missionary ardour was 
 aroused. Renouncing all that he held most dear, freedom 
 from external engagements, and his hut in the woods, and 
 choosing some companions to assist him in the work he 
 was about to undertake, he bade adieu to England, and, 
 under the escort of Count Vincent, set sail for a foreign 
 shore. 
 
 So loose is the chronology of the seventh century that it is 
 impossible to fix the date of St. Fursey's arrival in France, or 
 ascertain the duration of his mission in that part of the world. 
 We are led to infer from the reference made to Count Vincent's 
 return to the Continent from an embassy to Ireland, on which 
 he had been despatched by Dagobert i., that this monarch was 
 still king regnant when the Irish missioners landed in Normandy. 
 If this were the case, it would establish the date of Fursey's 
 arrival as not later than 638, the year usually assigned for the 
 death of Dagobert ; but this would seem too early to synchronise 
 with other events in our saint's history. However this may be, 
 it is certain that his most important work was accomplished 
 during the lifetime of Dagobert's sons, who reigned simul- 
 taneously the one, Clovis n., over Neustria and Burgundy up 
 to 655 or 660; the other, Sigebert n., over Austrasia to 656, 
 as generally stated. 
 
 Whether the newly-arrived monks followed any settled plan 
 in the conduct of their mission we are not told ; but it would 
 appear that in the first instance they proceeded overland to the 
 territory of Haymon, Duke of Ponthieu, in the maritime parts 
 of Picardy. On approaching the village of Mazerolles, where 
 the duke had a residence, the sounds of lamentation struck 
 their ears, and they learned on inquiry that the nobleman's 
 only son lay dead at the castle. Touched with compassion, 
 Fursey entered the house of mourning, and, as we read in an 
 ancient record, he prayed over the corpse, beseeching the Lord
 
 268 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 to show mercy to the afflicted parents. The prayer of faith 
 prevailed, and the boy was restored to life. Words could not 
 describe the joy of the family and the amazement of the people. 
 The multitude entreated the servant of God to take up his 
 abode with them. The duke presented gifts of gold and silver, 
 and offered to surrender his estate at Mazerolles to the abbot 
 and his monks. But Fursey, though grateful for the princely 
 presents and generous proposals, declined to accept them; and 
 as he believed that his mission at that time lay elsewhere, he 
 would not make a settlement in the place. However, he 
 willingly engaged to remember Duke Haymon in his prayers, 
 and to visit him at some future time if Providence should 
 permit ; or, if this might not be, and he should be called out of 
 the world without revisiting his friend, he promised to signify to 
 him his departure to the other world. " When three lights 
 shall be placed before you," said the holy man, " take it as a 
 sign that I am no longer a sojourner on the earth." After a 
 short stay, during which he preached the word of God to a 
 willing audience, he blessed the ruler, the people, and the land ; 
 and then, continuing his journey, he spread the light of the 
 gospel and worked miracles wherever he went. 
 
 In course of time Fursey and his little band approached the 
 borders of the kingdom of Austrasia, where, as already said, 
 Sigebert, the son of Dagobert, occupied the throne. This 
 monarch, one of the most interesting of the Frankish princes, 
 cannot have been more than a stripling then, and yet he was 
 already confessor as well as king. His father, who perhaps at 
 no time made himself remarkable by the practice of domestic 
 and Christian virtues, refused at first to allow the boy to be 
 baptized ; but at length, by the advice of St. Ouen and St. 
 Eligius, who were then laymen holding office at his Court, he 
 recalled St. Amandus, the great apostle of Belgic Gaul, whom 
 he had banished for reproving his vices, and requested the holy 
 man to baptize the child and regard him as his spiritual son. 
 The ceremony took place at Orleans ; Charibert, prince of a 
 territory on the farther side of the Loire, and a generous pro- 
 tector of the exiled apostle, standing sponsor at the font. 
 Sigebert's education was intrusted to another eminent servant 
 of God, Pepin of Landen, the founder of the family of 
 Charlemagne and the head of a race of saints. Dagobert built 
 high hopes on this child, whom, at the age of three years, he
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LlF AtfD VISIONS 269 
 
 invested with the kingdom of Austrasia or Eastern France. On 
 the death of Dagobert, the prince being still a minor, Pepin 
 conducted the affairs of Government as mayor of the palace, 
 while the spiritual interests of a considerable part of the king- 
 dom were attended to by St. Amandus, whom Sigebert held in 
 the highest veneration, and obliged to accept the bishopric of 
 Maestrich. When grown to man's estate, Sigebert gave ample 
 proof of capacity to defend his rights and hold his own in war- 
 like contests. But the arts of peace were his delight. " His 
 munificence in founding churches and monasteries, his justice 
 in ruling, and the spotless virtues of his private life, made him 
 to be regarded as a model of a saintly king." 1 
 
 As soon as Sigebert learned that the illustrious missioner, 
 Abbot Fursey, was at no great distance from his territory, he 
 set out to meet him, accompanied by a splendid retinue. Dis- 
 mounting from his horse, he knelt to receive the saint's blessing ; 
 and then, with every mark of honour, conducted him to Court, 
 and offered him magnificent presents. On this occasion also 
 the costly gifts were refused. But the king, understanding that 
 a small plot of ground, such as would answer for a monastic 
 settlement, would be accepted, called his nobles into council, 
 and with their assistance made choice of a fine site, with 
 abundance of wood and water, and placed it at the disposition 
 of the pious strangers. The simple constructions were then 
 commenced, the nobles and the people of every degree vicing 
 with one another in their generous efforts to second the good 
 works the monks had undertaken. 
 
 " All the inhabitants, according to their means and oppor- 
 tunities, presented offerings to the servants of God for their im- 
 mediate and future support. A church was also constructed in 
 a high style of art for the period, both externally and internally. 
 To St. Fursey some gave village property, others offered wood- 
 lands, others again provided him with fish-abounding rivers ; 
 while from other donors he received flocks and herds, com- 
 prising different kinds of animals. Some grant him silk orna- 
 ments and materials, woven in various designs and wrought 
 with gems and gold, others tender gold and silver vessels 
 suitable for various offices of the Church ; while some again 
 assign their men and women-serfs as heritages of the monas- 
 tery, others resign themselves to the service of God, with 
 l Rev. S. Baring-Gould, Festival of St. Sigebert, February i.
 
 2/0 ST. FURSEY'S LtFZ AiVD VISIONS 
 
 all their possessions, having likewise assumed the religious 
 habit." 1 
 
 During his mission in Austrasia, St. Fursey became 
 acquainted with one of the most remarkable and saintly 
 personages of the time, Gertrude, daughter of Pepin of 
 Landen, and Abbess of Nivelles. After the death of Pepin 
 (variously stated as having occurred between 640 and 649), 
 his widow, St. Itta, founded the monastery just named, and 
 retired to it with her daughter, whom, though young in years, 
 she soon appointed abbess. Gertrude held large territorial 
 possessions in her own right, and, being closely connected 
 with magnates of the day, exercised a wide personal influence. 
 Simple and mortified in her manner of life, as became a 
 religious, she was deeply versed in the Sacred Scriptures, 
 munificent in her charities, and great in all her undertakings. 
 Under her rule, Nivelles was constituted as a double monas- 
 tery, with an Order of canons to perform priestly functions, 
 instruct the nuns in spiritual matters, and manage the temporal 
 affairs of the establishment. Asylums for widows and orphans, 
 and houses for the reception of pilgrims and travellers, were 
 supported by the monastery and intrusted to the discipline of 
 the canons and canonesses of the institute. 2 In a word, the 
 monastery of Nivelles became the centre of an immense field 
 of religious work, extending throughout Brabant and the 
 neighbouring countries ; and the saintly abbess exercised 
 over the mother-house and its dependencies a regal sway, 
 directed by singular wisdom and prudence. It is easy to 
 imagine the veneration in which St. Gertrude held the Irish 
 abbot and his band of missioners, so rigidly austere in their 
 life, so magnificent in their self-devotion, so marvellously 
 successful in spreading the light of faith. She consulted 
 
 1 Rev J. O'Hanlon, Lives of 'the Irish Saints, vol. i. 
 
 2 "From the saint having established large hospices for the reception of 
 pilgrims and travellers, whom she entertained with great liberality, arose 
 the custom of travellers drinking a stirrup-cup in her honour before starting 
 on their journey. She became the patroness of travellers. Then, by a 
 curious superstition, she was supposed to harbour souls on their way to 
 Paradise. It was said that this was a three days' journey. The first 
 night they lodged with St. Gertrude, the second wiih St. Gabriel, the 
 third was in Paradise. She therefore became the patroness and protector 
 of departed souls." Rev. S. Baring-Goukl, Festival of St. Gertrude, 
 March 17.
 
 ST. FURSEY^S LIFE AND VISIONS 271 
 
 St. Fursey in weighty matters, and aided him in the work of 
 his apostolate. 1 
 
 Time passed on, and Fursey returned to Western France, 
 where Clovis u., the brother of St. Sigebert, reigned as King 
 of Neustria. Like Sigebert, he was a minor when he ascended 
 the throne ; but, unlike that pious prince, he left behind him 
 no particular reputation for ability or sanctity. He was the 
 first of the Rois Faineants or sinecure kings of France. How- 
 ever, he did not neglect to advance the spiritual interests of 
 his subjects ; and his wife, Buthilde, was a saint. His mayor 
 of the palace was Erchinoald, a capable and energetic ruler, 
 and eventually one of Fursey's most powerful and devoted 
 friends. Erchinoald's residence was at Peronne, and he 
 invited the abbot to visit him at his castle and baptize his 
 infant son. This request was complied with, and during his 
 stay the man of God preached to the people and healed their 
 bodies and souls. Peronne appears to have had a singular 
 attraction for him, and he took particular delight in visiting a 
 little chapel dedicated to SS. Peter and Paul, situated near the 
 castle, on an eminence called the Mont de Cignes. Here he 
 passed whole days in prayer, whole nights in vigil ; and here 
 he enshrined the relics of his venerated friends St. Bcean and 
 St. Meldan, 2 together with those of St. Patrick and other 
 
 1 After the death of St. Fursey the abbess sent to England to invite his 
 brothers, St. Foillan and St. Ultan, to come over and instruct her com- 
 munity in sacred psalmody. " For," says Fredeiick Ozanam, " the Irish 
 excelled in the ecclesiastical chant, and it was among them that the 
 Frankish princesses sought masters to teach the nuns of their monasteries 
 to sing in a becoming manner the praises of God." The invitation was 
 accepted. Foillan remained at Nivelles. but Ultan after some time was 
 appointed Abbot of Fosses, a monastery which St. Gertrude had built and 
 endowed for Irish monks. When the abbess felt that her last hour was 
 approaching, she sent one of the canons of her monastery to Fosses to ask 
 St. Ultan when she must die. "Then," to quote the Rev. S. Baring- 
 Gould, "the saint replied to the messenger, 'To-morrow, during the 
 celebration of the Holy Mass, Gertiude, the spouse of Jesus Christ, will 
 depart this life, to enjoy that which is eternal. Tell her not to fear, for 
 St. Patrick, accompanied by blessed angels, will receive her soul into 
 glory.' And it was so, that after she had received extreme unction, and 
 while the priest was reciting the prayers before the preface in the Holy 
 Sacrifice, on the morrow, the second Sunday in Lent, she breathed forth 
 her pure soul." Fosses long maintained its character as an Irish monas- 
 tery, and was much resorted to by pilgrims from Erin. 
 
 2 Of St. Brean, whose appearance in an earlier part of our narrative 
 cannot have been forgotten, nothing further is known than what Dr.
 
 272 ST. FURSEY --S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 saints, which he had carried with him from his native land. 
 He is said to have expressed a wish to repose in death in the 
 same hallowed spot, and even to have predicted that such 
 should be the case. 
 
 Meanwhile Clovis, hearing that Fursey wished to form a 
 monastic settlement in Xeustria, and being himself anxious 
 that his subjects should enjoy the advantage of having such a 
 centre of civilisation established in the land, issued a command 
 to the effect that whatever place in his dominions might be 
 selected should at once be granted to the missionary monks. 
 Thereupon Fursey, taking as his companions three prudent 
 counsellors, undertook a journey with the object of selecting 
 a plot of ground. Their choice did credit to their taste and 
 sagacity. It was a noble site, on an eminence in the midst 
 of a fertile, well-wooded country between Paris and Meaux, 
 watered by the river Marne, and enjoying a healthy climate. 
 Here then the pious exiles pitched their camp, and in so doing 
 laid the foundations of the celebrated abbey of Lagny-sur- 
 Marne. From this post of vantage they conducted their 
 missions in the neighbouring territory, and the monastery 
 itself, being easy of access, was resorted to by the surrounding 
 population, eager to hear the preachers of God's word, and 
 curious to see the abbot " the mysterious stranger who had 
 tasted death/' 1 Another attraction to the pious crowd was a 
 fountain of pure water near the monastery, said to have sprung 
 up when Fursey struck his staff into the dry soil, and con- 
 nected, no doubt, in the popular mind with the angel's 
 admonition concerning the use of spring water to heal the 
 hurt inflicted on the saint by the son of perdition. A copious 
 and ceaseless stream filled the reservoir, served the wants of 
 the monastery, and supplied the people who dwelt around. 
 
 Lanigan records, namely, that he was a native of Connaught, and no less 
 renowned than his countryman and contemporary, St. Meldan. Con- 
 cerning the latter there is not much to add to what has already been said. 
 Owing probably to his having been the spiritual father of St. Fursey, he 
 continued to be held in particular honour at Peronne, taking rank as one 
 of the patrons of the city. Many churches are dedicated under his invoca- 
 tion, and his festival is kept on the 7th of February. 
 
 1 See Ozanam, Etudes Germaniques, chapter on the preaching of the 
 Irish. This incident reminds one of what happened nearly seven hundred 
 years later, when the women of Verona stood at their doors to see Dante 
 pass the man who had been in hell !
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 273 
 
 Moreover, being endowed with certain curative properties, the 
 Well of Lagny acquired a widespread reputation, and was 
 resorted to by pilgrims from distant parts. 
 
 Soon the abbot's work of love and zeal extended over a 
 wider field than that included in the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of Lagny. Many churches in that part of France owed 
 their foundation to him. One of these was dedicated to our 
 Divine Saviour, another to the Prince of the Apostles, and 
 a third was, in after times, dedicated in his own name. 
 Audibert, Bishop of Paris, invited him to establish missions 
 in his diocese and act as his assistant, and when the abbot 
 had built a church at Compans, that prelate came in person to 
 consecrate the new edifice. St. Landry, his successor in the 
 see, showed in an equally marked way the singular esteem he 
 entertained for the Abbot of Lagny. Some years later, when 
 St. Fursey had gone to God, St. Bathilde, widow of Clovis and 
 regent of the kingdom, rebuilt the convent of Chelles, near 
 Lagny, and, through reverence for the deceased abbot, insti- 
 tuted there a double monastery, after the Celtic manner, for 
 monks and nuns. 1 
 
 In modern times it might seem an ordinary achievement 
 thus to build churches and found religious houses. Not so, 
 however, in the seventh century of the Christian era. To 
 build a church in those days meant literally to plant the 
 standard of Christ in a new territory ; and to found a monastic 
 settlement was to enlarge the frontiers of civilisation. The 
 abbeys of the seventh century, to quote a high authority, with 
 their populations of three, four, or five hundred monks, were 
 so many fortresses, forming a barrier against the inroads of 
 paganism. They were also securely-planted colonies, stationed 
 in the midst of the fluctuating rural population. These 
 religious societies were not subject to extinction by death, like 
 the bishops, nor could they abdicate their office. Neither 
 were they capable of being led away in the retinue of kings. 
 Consequently, they were in a better position to oppose fraud 
 and violence. Subject to obedience, leading chaste and 
 laborious lives, these pious settlers astonished the barbarians, 
 whom they attracted and retained by the benefits they con- 
 ferred. In fact, they accomplished the first step towards 
 civilisation, fixing in a permanent abode the nomadic tribes. 
 1 Cardinal Moran, Irish Saints in Great Britain, ch. xii, 
 18
 
 274 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 The abbeys were centres of science, sacred and secular, and 
 at the same time schools of industry and agriculture. In their 
 workshops all the arts of the antique world were taught, and 
 from their cells went forth the men who opened up a way 
 through the impenetrable forest with the indomitable per- 
 severance of the ancient Romans. 1 
 
 Considering the constant intercourse kept up at that period 
 between Ireland and the Continent, it is not surprising that 
 the fame of Lagny and tidings of the abbot's missionary 
 enterprises spread through the Western Isle. Many of Fursey's 
 countrymen, on their way to Rome or Jerusalem, and some 
 who set out purposely to visit in foreign lands the religious 
 settlements founded by the monks of their nation, directed 
 their steps to the banks of the Marne, to claim the hospitality 
 never denied by Irish cenobites, congratulate the abbot on 
 the conquests won for Christ, and draw edification from the 
 spectacle of the fruitful labours of the self-exiled saints. 2 Over 
 and above the joy of welcoming the pilgrims of Erin to 
 his home in Neustria, Fursey had the happiness of receiving 
 from Ireland aspirants to the monastic and missionary voca- 
 tion desiring to take part in his hallowed labours. Among 
 others came ^Emelian, who had been a disciple of his own in 
 former days, accompanied by a band of younger men ready 
 to adopt the austere but glorious life of the monks of Lagny. 
 This accession of strength from the Sacred Isle was particu- 
 larly welcome to Fursey, who, moreover, recognised in 
 a man after his own heart, one to whom the 
 
 1 Ozanam, Etudes Germaniques, vol. ii. ch. iv. 
 
 - Somewhere about this time, St. Faro, Bishop of Meaux, founded a 
 celebrated hospice at the gates of his episcopal city. He had known 
 Columbanus in his youth, and held his memory in the highest veneration. 
 The illustrious missioner's countrymen were made specially welcome at 
 this pilgrim's home ; and in Lives of Irish Saints particular mention is 
 made of it. We read, for instance, that St. Kilian, the apostle of Fran- 
 conia, rested there, and that St. Fiacre, honoured as one of the principal 
 patrons of the diocese of Meaux, sojourned within its walls for a con- 
 siderable time. It is more than probable that many of the Irish visitors 
 to Lagny were received and refreshed at St. Faro's hospice. In France 
 and Germany several institutions of this kind were founded by princes and 
 bishops specially for the Irish pilgrims and travellers who passed through 
 these countries in such numbers. One of these, situated in an island of 
 the Rhine near Strasburg, was founded early in the eighth century by an 
 Irish bishop, and enjoyed the patronage of the monarchs of the Carjo- 
 vingian dynasty,
 
 ST. FURSEY >S LIFE AND VISIONS 275 
 
 monastery might safely be intrusted during any temporary 
 absence of the abbot, and one who was destined, in all pro- 
 bability, to be his own successor in its government. 
 
 Meanwhile Erchinoald, mayor of the palace, directing the 
 affairs of the kingdom from his castle at Peronne, though 
 rejoicing in the progress of Christianity and civilisation 
 throughout Neustria, was far from being satisfied to see his 
 own place of residence deprived of the advantages which a 
 settlement of missionary monks would confer. He therefore 
 undertook a journey to Lagny, laid the matter before his 
 venerated friend the abbot, and besought the latter to accom- 
 pany him on his return to Peronne, begin at once the erection 
 of a monastery in the vicinity of the fortress, and transport 
 thither in due course a community from the parent house. 
 Fursey gave a willing consent to this proposal, and soon after 
 laid the foundation of his new settlement at a place situated 
 higher up than Erchinoald's stronghold, and called Mount St. 
 Quintin. As soon as the buildings were ready, a band of 
 monks migrated from Lagny, and a great concourse of the 
 clergy and nobility of France assembled to congratulate with 
 the mayor of the palace, and to assist at the consecration of 
 the monastery. The officiating prelate was the illustrious 
 Bishop of Noyon and Tournay, St. Eligius. 
 
 It was a happy event, this meeting of the Abbot of Lagny 
 and the Bishop of Noyon on so auspicious an occasion. They 
 were kindred spirits, and in some ways similarly gifted, simil- 
 arly blessed. If Fursey had preached to his tens of thousands 
 in the isles and on the Continent, converting by his impassioned 
 eloquence hosts of pagans and a multitude of relapsed Chris- 
 tians ; then also had Eligius evangelised the idolaters of 
 Belgium, and overcome, by the suavity of his character and 
 the irresistible persuasiveness of his oratory, the fierce bar- 
 barians of Ghent and Courtray. Fursey may have possessed 
 the poetic faculty in larger measure, but the bishop, on the 
 other hand, was an artist of high attainments. In his youth 
 he had distinguished himself so much by the beauty of his 
 designs and his skill as a gold worker, that King Dagobert 
 invited him to his Court and appointed him Master of the 
 Mint. Clovis retained him in the same office until, being 
 ordained for the sacred ministry, he was soon after raised to 
 the episcopal dignity. Even now with the charge of the vast
 
 s;6 57'. FURSEY' S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 united dioceses on his shoulders, he did not altogether give up 
 the pursuit of his original vocation ; only, devoting his rare 
 talent to purely sacred objects, he employed his leisure upon 
 the holy vessels of the altar, the shrines of the saints, and the 
 decorations of the tombs of great servants of God. 1 
 
 In the establishment of the monastery at Peronne, Erchi- 
 noald's main object was happily fulfilled; but with his charac- 
 teristic munificence he continued to give proofs of the esteem 
 in which he held the saintly founder, and the importance he 
 attached to the establishment in his district of a colony of 
 such apostolic men. About this time he undertook the erec- 
 tion of a fine church in connection with the little chapel 
 dedicated to SS. Peter and Paul, in which Fursey had loved 
 to watch and pray on the occasion of his first visit to 
 Peronne. 
 
 Years having now been spent in the fruitful labours of the 
 Frankish mission, and secure foundations made in important 
 places, Fursey began to think seriously of returning to East 
 Anglia and visiting his beloved brothers, Foillan and Ultan, 
 from whom he had been now a long time separated. In 
 furtherance of this design he set out, and entering into that 
 part of the country where his apostolic work on the Continent 
 first began, arrived at the village of Mazerolles, the scene of 
 his memorable meeting with Duke Haymon, lord of the soil. 
 Here a heavenly messenger, one of the blessed spirits with 
 whom he had been long familiar, came as of old to reveal to 
 him the will of God : the apostle's mission was accomplished, 
 the labours of his life were ended ; before long he should pass 
 away from earthly scenes, and reach, under the angels' escort, 
 the judgment-seat of God. Making, therefore, his preparation 
 with all humility and fervour, he received the Viaticum for his 
 
 1 The account of St. Eli^ius (in French, St. Eloy) in Butler's Lives oj 
 the Saints is very interesting, and so also is Mrs. Jameson's sketch of the 
 artist-bishop in her Sacred and Legendary Art. The last-named writer, 
 in observing that Eligius cut the dies for the money coined in the reigns of 
 Dagobert and Clovis n., tells us that thiiteen pieces are known which 
 bear his name inscribed. Mrs. Jameson enumerates several of the 
 pictures in which scenes of his life are portrayed. One of these, a cele- 
 brated work of Pelegiino Piola, was about to be removed from Genoa, by 
 command of Napoleon, to Paris ; but the Company of Goldsmiths so reso- 
 lutely opposed the removal of this picture of their patron saint that the. 
 emperor allowed it to remain.
 
 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 277 
 
 final journey, and, commending his soul to the great Creator, 
 happily departed. 
 
 Haymon was not at Mazerolles when the abbot expired. 
 He was elsewhere at that hour, sitting at table with some 
 guests. In the middle of the repast he beheld Fursey enter 
 the banquet-hall, clothed in sacerdotal vestments and attended 
 by his two deacons. They each held a lighted taper, and 
 advancing to where the duke sat, placed the lights before him 
 and silently withdrew. 1 Haymon, in amazement, turned to 
 the friends around him and asked them whether they had seen 
 the vision. They replied that they had not perceived anything 
 unusual. Then, remembering Fursey's promise to inform him 
 in this way of his dissolution, he related what the saint had 
 said to him many years before, and declared his belief that the 
 man of God had passed away. Immediately rising from table, 
 and followed by his household, he hastened on horseback to 
 Mazerolles, where he found his forebodings only too sadly 
 realised. Abbot Fursey lay dead, and around his mortal 
 remains were assembled the clergy, the monks, and the inhabi- 
 tants of the village, singing the requiem office and lamenting 
 their loss. Placing a military guard round the body, he joined 
 in the devotions and bewailed his friend. 
 
 The report of St. Fursey's death spread with rapidity over 
 the country, and soon reached Peronne. Erchinoald, divining 
 Duke Haymon's design of enshrining the remains of the holy 
 abbot at Mazerolles, instantly placed himself at the head of a 
 royal guard and marched out with a determination to prevent, 
 by force of arms if necessary, any such infringement of his own 
 rights. Having arrived at the river on which the village was 
 situated, he sent messengers to Haymon, setting forth his 
 claims, and informing him that it was the king's pleasure that 
 they should be allowed. The duke, considering that he 
 himself had just as good a right to retain the precious remains 
 in the spot where God had called his servant out of life, 
 declined to comply with the request now made. A sanguinary 
 contest seemed imminent over the body of the man of peace, 
 when fortunately a more humane way of deciding the question 
 was suggested. Finally, it was agreed that two young bulls, 
 
 1 Fur hundreds of years three candles were kept constantly alight on 
 the altar of the church at Peronne, in memory of this miraculous occur- 
 rence.
 
 278 ST. FURSEY'S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 unused to the yoke, should be attached to the funeral car, and 
 that the cortege of mourners and men-at-arms should follow 
 whatsoever road the animals took of their own accord. The 
 mayor of the palace, Duke Haymon, the military, force which 
 attended these magnates, the clergy and the monks, and the 
 pious crowd, fell into a processional line, the saint's coffin was 
 placed on the car, and the untamed oxen were yoked thereto. 
 Greatly to Erchinoald's delight they took the road to Peronne. 
 Over hill and dale the funeral train wound its way, the people 
 coming from the neighbouring districts to testify their venera- 
 tion for the holy dead, and to have their ailments healed 
 through his intercession. Once a startling interruption took 
 place. Another claimant appeared on the scene. Bercharius, 
 Duke of Laon, escorted by an armed troop, stopped the pro- 
 cession, and demanded that the body should be delivered 
 up to him, urging in support of his claim that he had accom- 
 panied Abbot Fursey on his voyage to France, that he had 
 bestowed a great part of his means for the use of the saint's 
 disciples, that he entertained the deepest love and veneration 
 for the departed, and had been much beloved in return. 
 Bercharius after some time was likewise pacified. He joined 
 company with the other noblemen, marshalling his soldiers in 
 the rank-and-file of the attendant throng. Finally Peronne 
 was reached. The remains of the abbot were deposited in the 
 porch of the new church, which the mayor of the palace had 
 from the first designed to be the resting-place of the illustrious 
 dead. 
 
 Erchinoald meanwhile set all hands at work, and spared no 
 cost to finish the church. At the end of thirty or forty days 
 the edifice was sufficiently advanced to allow the solemn 
 ceremony of consecration and the removal of St.- Fursey's 
 remains from the porch to take place. St. Eligius, and St. 
 Aubert, Bishop of Cambray and Arras, 1 came to perform the 
 sacred functions on the day appointed, an immense multitude 
 assembled to witness the imposing ceremonies, the air was 
 
 1 St. Aubert was one of the greatest ornaments of the seventh age and 
 eminent promoters of learning and piety in the Gallican church. He was 
 consecrated Bishop of Arras and Cambray in 633. His instructions, sup- 
 ported by the wonderful example of his own life, had iucredible success in 
 reforming his flock. By his zeal, religion and sacred learning flourished 
 exceedingly in all Haynault and Flanders. Butler's Lives of the Saints, 
 Dec. 13.
 
 57: FURSEY ^S LIFE AND VISIONS *jg 
 
 filled with the harmony of the sacred chants, and the church 
 was ablaze with light. The bishops took the remains of their 
 brother saint in their arms and deposited them behind the high 
 altar, near the relics of St. Boean and St. Meldan, which he 
 had himself borne over sea and land from the Island of the 
 West, and entombed in that place. 
 
 However, all was not yet accomplished according to the 
 magnificent plans of the mayor of the palace. A shrine was 
 still wanting to enclose the treasure which the new church 
 possessed, and Erchinoald was resolved that it should be costly 
 in material, and wrought, if possible, by consecrated hands. 
 He therefore sent a large amount of gold and silver to St. 
 Eligius, praying him to design and execute the work that was 
 required in honour of Blessed Fursey. The task was graciously 
 undertaken ; and in four years' time a sumptuous shrine, on 
 which the artist-bishop had put forth his skill, was completed. 
 Again St. Aubert was invited to repair to Peronne, and to 
 assist the Bishop of Noyon and Tournay at the second transla- 
 tion of St. Fursey's remains ; and St. ./Emelian, Abbot of 
 Lagny, was likewise requested to be present. Another great 
 festival was held on the Mont de Cignes, and the shrine, with 
 the relics enclosed, was placed over the high altar dedicated 
 to St. Peter, Prince of the Apostles. 1 
 
 Peronne, a most important fortress-town in the middle and 
 subsequent ages, owed its growth and renown to the entomb- 
 ment of St. Fursey on its commanding heights. The place 
 became a centre of attraction to the religious world, and a 
 constant stream of pilgrims flowed in from all sides to offer 
 up their devotions before the shrine of the patron saint and 
 use the waters of his famous well. For here, too, as at Lagny, 
 and indeed in every place where the holy man dwelt, a fountain 
 sprang up endowed with virtue to relieve the ailments of those 
 who used the healing tide with faith. Throughout succeeding 
 ages the veneration in which the saint was held continued to 
 be manifested from time to time in an exceptionally marked 
 way. Thus, to quote Archbishop Moran, six hundred years 
 after the entombment of our saint, St. Louis, King of France, 
 
 1 Full details relating to the first and second translations of St. Fursey's 
 relics are given in the second volume of the Lives of the Irish Saints, by 
 the Rev. John O'Hanlon, to whom the present writer has been much 
 indebted all through this slight article.
 
 SSd ST. FURSEY >S LIFE AND VISIONS 
 
 solemnised his return to his kingdom, after six years' absence, 
 by the gift to the church of Peronne of another rich shrine for 
 the relics of St. Fursey. It was of gilt metal, enriched with 
 precious stones, and adorned with statues of the twelve 
 apostles; and the king himself, with several bishops, assisted 
 at the translation of the sacred relics, on the iyth of September 
 1256. Again, the small portion of the relics saved from pro- 
 fanation amid the demoniac scenes of 1793, was placed in the 
 church of St. John the Baptist, where they are now preserved. 
 Lastly, on the i2th of January 1853, the bishops of the 
 ecclesiastical province of Rheims, then assembled in Provincial 
 Synod at Amiens, proceeded to Peronne, and once more 
 enshrined in a rich case the relics of its great patron saint. 1 
 
 During far more than a thousand years, therefore, this 
 sainted exile of Erin has been an object of extraordinary 
 veneration in the place where his relics are laid, and of honour 
 throughout France generally. He is usually regarded as a 
 French saint, and is far better known abroad than in the land 
 of his birth. In fact, his insular fame has been absorbed in 
 the superior splendour of his continental renown. The per- 
 sonality of the Milesian Fursasus is not always recognised in 
 that of "St. Farcy of France," or "St. Furse of Peronne." 
 That his name is now more frequently heard amongst us than 
 it was for generations past, is clue to the extension in these our 
 days of the study of Dante. After a laborious and reverential 
 study of the great Florentine, extending over six hundred 
 years, Dantean scholars have reached the poetic sources of the 
 Divine Comedy ; and at the fountainhead they find the Celtic 
 spring the Vision of St. Fursey. 
 
 1 Irish Saints in Great Britain, ch. xii.
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 
 
 " Such wondrous sight as once was given 
 In vision to the Rapt Culdee." THOMAS D'ARCY M'GEE. 
 
 AENGUS, like many another of the early Irish saints, sprang 
 from a noble and even regal stock. His family, Chiefs of 
 Dalaradians of Ulster, traced their descent in unbroken line 
 through Coelback, Monarch of Ireland in the middle of the 
 fourth century, up to Ir, the third son of Milesius. It seems 
 probable, however, that Aengus, the most illustrious scion of 
 the proud Ultonian race, was born, not in the northern pro- 
 vince, but in some part of Lagenia. At anyrate, it is certain 
 that his birth took place about A.D. 750, and that at an early 
 age he repaired to the monastic schools of Clonenagh, in 
 Offaly, where he applied himself with extraordinary energy to 
 the study of the arts and sciences which formed the curriculum 
 in the seats of learning for which the island of saints and 
 scholars was at that time celebrated. When the long academic 
 course came to an end, he was well versed in Greek and 
 Latin, a distinguished Gaelic scholar, profoundly learned in 
 the Sacred Scriptures, and a poet thoroughly skilled in the 
 " art of the Irish," that is to say, in the use, according to the 
 laws of a varied and elaborate versification, of the copious, 
 sonorous, and exquisitely melodious language of the Gael. 
 
 Nor was his progress less conspicuous in a still nobler field ; 
 for, having joined the religious community at Clonenagh, he 
 advanced by giant strides in the narrow way of the saints. 
 His brethren, noting the ardour of his zeal and the fidelity of 
 his observance, the sincere depth of his humility and the 
 transcendent character of his devotion, bestowed on him a
 
 282 THE RAPT CULDEE 
 
 name full of sweetness and significance, calling him Angus 
 Kele-De, meaning Angus the servant or lover of God. 
 
 To have acquired thus early so high a reputation for sanctity 
 and learning at Clonenagh was indeed remarkable, seeing that 
 the monastery was famous for its religious discipline as well as 
 for the number of its learned teachers, at the head of whom 
 was at that time the erudite and holy Abbot Malathgenius. 
 From the monastery to the well-frequented schools, and from 
 the schools to the circumjacent territories, the fame of Aengus 
 spread with rapidity. He was thought to excel all others in 
 Ireland, he was regarded with singular veneration, people 
 came to consult him on different points and in weighty 
 matters, and soon he had a numerous following of friends, 
 admirers, and disciples. 
 
 Fame, albeit of so high and holy a description, was not only 
 distasteful to the professor of learning, whose serious and 
 absorbing pursuits required leisure and seclusion, but was 
 uncongenial to the spirit of humility which the pious monk 
 strenuously cultivated. He therefore asked and obtained 
 permission to withdraw to some extent even from community 
 life, and to fix his abode in a retired place where, safe from 
 distraction, he might continue his studies, and devote himself 
 more than ever to meditation and prayer. 
 
 The retreat he made choice of was a solitary spot in the 
 midst of woods on the north bank of the Nore, six or seven 
 miles from the monastery, and not far from the present town 
 of Mountrath. There he erected a little wooden oratory, and 
 constructed a rustic hut for his habitation. Surrounded by 
 the primeval forest stretching down to the brink of the "cold 
 clear Nore,'' he spent long intervals of time poring over ancient 
 folios, storing his memory to an extent well-nigh incredible 
 with entire books of the Sacred Scriptures, abstruse writings of 
 the Greek and Latin fathers, and records of the lives of saints 
 who had flourished in every age and in every clime. Three 
 hundred times a day he adored God on his bended knees, and 
 the entire Psalter he sang between one sunrise and another, 
 fifty psalms in the little oratory, fifty in the open air under a 
 wide-spreading tree, and fifty while standing in cold water. 
 Disappointment awaited him, however. He soon found that 
 the difficulties of a journey through the pathless woods were 
 made very light of by his admirers and disciples, and that the
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 283 
 
 river was only a highway for visitors, who floated their coracles 
 down the current or paddled them up the stream until the 
 hermit's fastness no longer remained inviolate. 
 
 Under these circumstances it seems to have struck the 
 Culdee that better success might attend an attempt to hide in 
 a crowd, and that a safer hermitage might be discovered in the 
 open inhabited country. Something like an inspiration urged 
 him at the same time to forego, at least for an interval, his 
 ardent pursuit of knowledge, and to throw himself into a life of 
 practical humility, hard obedience, and severe manual toil. 
 He had heard of a large monastery with a numerous com- 
 munity situated a good way off, in a fine open tract extending 
 between the terminating spur of a chain of mountains and the 
 eastern seaboard of Leinster, and he made up his mind to go 
 to that place, and, without revealing his name and condition, 
 present himself before the abbot, craving admission to serve 
 at the monastery in a menial capacity. In such a position, 
 thought he, the world would leave him unmolested, and he 
 should have ample opportunities for perfecting himself in all 
 the lowly and essential virtues dear to God. He would 
 mortify his love for the higher studies, hide in ashes the flame 
 of poetic aspiration, and relinquish the exercise of his bardic 
 accomplishments. One thing only was he now ambitious of, 
 and this was that he might become an abject in the house of 
 his God. 
 
 We cannot doubt that Aengus had taken good counsel and 
 obtained the blessing of his lawful superior when he entered 
 on an undertaking so unusual, and set out on his journey as 
 the poorest of Christ's poor, alone, without money in his 
 purse, or scrip for his journey, or two coats, or even a name. 
 Steering his course in a north-easterly direction, he proceeded 
 pilgrimwise, receiving a meal and a night's shelter now at a 
 chieftain's rath, and again within some religious enclosure. 
 One only incident of the journey has been related, and that 
 was a memorable one. Coming to a place called Coolbanaher 
 (near the present town of Portarlington), the traveller turned 
 oft" the road and entered a church to pray there. When he 
 had finished his devotions, he noticed in the cemetery a newly- 
 made grave, and beheld a wondrous vision legions of bright 
 spirits, angels of heaven, descending and ascending and hover- 
 ing over the spot, while their heavenly songs filled the air with
 
 284 TNE RAPT CULDEE 
 
 an ecstasy of joy. Desiring to know who it could be that the 
 ministers of God thus honoured at his place of sepulture, 
 Aengus went to the priest of the church and asked who was 
 buried in that grave. The priest answered that it was a poor 
 old man who formerly lived in the neighbourhood. " What good 
 did he do? "asked the Culdee. " I saw no particular good 
 by him," said the priest, " but that his practice was to recount 
 and invoke the saints of the world, as far as he could remember 
 them, at his going to bed and getting up, in accordance with 
 the custom of the old devotees." "Ah! my God," said 
 Aengus, ' he who would make a poetical composition in 
 praise of the saints should doubtless have a high reward, 
 when so much has been vouchsafed to the efforts of this old 
 devotee ! " 
 
 Suddenly it flashed through his mind that he should do 
 this thing as a work pleasing to God, edifying to his brethren, 
 and beneficial to his own soul ; and he saw at a glance how a 
 metrical hymn might be composed in honour of all the saints, 
 which he should himself recite every day as long as he lived, 
 and bequeath as a rich legacy to the land of his birth. 
 
 Here then was an idea as vivid as an inspiration and as 
 holy, whirling him once more into the high latitudes of poetry. 
 The impulse to attempt this undertaking had an urgency not 
 to be gainsaid ; he felt conscious of possessing the power to 
 accomplish it, and he was lifted as by the hair of the head 
 into a region where neither fear nor misgiving, neither distrust 
 nor diffidence, leave a blight or cast a shadow. Yes, he would 
 raise his voice and sing a glorious song in honour of the hosts 
 of heaven ! 
 
 But how it was to be done, or when, he knew not ; for it did 
 not occur to him that he should turn aside forthwith from the 
 path on which an earlier inspiration had set his feet. The 
 Lord, who had bestowed on him the gift of song, would 
 doubtless provide for the doing of His own work ! And so, 
 with the prelude of the new chant re-echoing in his soul, and 
 the joy of the new possession elating his heart ; with the 
 thought of the old devotee in his mind, and the rustle of the 
 angels' wings in his ears, the Culdee came out again on the 
 track that served as a highway, and continued his journey 
 towards the goal he had in view. At length, having crossed 
 St. Brigid's pastures (the Curragh of Kildare), and passed
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 28; 
 
 through the woods enclosing that tract on the north, he turned 
 the mountain range at the upper extremity and came out on 
 the open country gently sloping to the eastern sea. 
 
 There he beheld the monastery of Tamlacht or Tallaght, 
 whither he was bound, standing in all the holy simplicity of 
 the antique time when high thinking and low living were the 
 order of the day. A cluster of wattle huts, with a timber 
 church in the midst, stood within the circuit of a low fence ; 
 outside, a considerable area was occupied by farm buildings 
 and groups of rustic huts which the scholars had built for 
 themselves ; and farther off the mill, the kiln, the fishing weir, 
 and other appurtenances of an extensive rural establishment 
 could be observed ; while along the river banks and the 
 higher ground, ascending towards the adjacent hills, the 
 cultivated fields and well-stocked pastures testified to the 
 industry and good management of the religious colonists. 
 The only thing wanting was that air of antiquity which some 
 of the larger monasteries could boast of; but this Tallaght 
 had not had time to acquire, for its origin dated only a few 
 years back, when in 769 St. Melruan founded the church on 
 a site and endowment "offered to God, to Michael the Arch- 
 angel, and to Melruan," by Donnoch, the pious and illustrious 
 King of Leinster. Already, however, the monastery enjoyed a 
 high reputation throughout Erin for piety and scholarship, 
 the saintly abbot ranking among the most learned men of the 
 day, and his community following close in the wake of their 
 father and founder. 
 
 Weary and travel-stained, Aengus, presented himself before 
 Melruan as a poor humble stranger, and with all the earnest- 
 ness which another might show when supplicating for a 
 special favour, besought the abbot to take him into his service 
 as a menial, and appoint him to do the rough work of the 
 monastic farm. Surprised, perhap?, that this stranger should 
 ask so little, the abbot nevertheless discovered nothing in 
 the applicant's speech or manner suggestive of a higher 
 capacity. He granted the prayer of the willing drudge, sent 
 him to take charge of the mill and the kiln, and desired him 
 to turn his hand to any kind of labour that might offer in the 
 fields and works. And so, as it is related, he set to his task 
 with right goodwill, reaping the corn, carrying the sheaves on 
 his back to the barn, thrashing them with a flail, loading him-
 
 286 THE RAPT CULDEE 
 
 self with the sacks of grain, and trudging like a beast of burden 
 to the mill. With his face begrimed with sweat and dust, his 
 hair all tangled, and his clothes covered with chaff and straws, 
 the Culdee looked very unlike a man of letters and " a master 
 of verses." He hardly looked like a man at all, but he did 
 look like what he wanted to be an abject, and the last of 
 human kind. 
 
 One might reasonably wonder whether he had time to say 
 his prayers. And, indeed, if praying depended altogether on 
 church-going, there would have been but a short account of 
 his spiritual exercises. Out early and late in the barn and the 
 fields, his opportunities for meditation cannot have been 
 frequent, and, as an old panegyrist observes, " It was not a 
 condition meet for devotion to be in the kiln constantly 
 drying." But this man of contemplation, this lover of deep 
 study, this poetic soul, had not in vain spent his youth in a 
 school of religion and learning. His well-stored memory now 
 served him in good stead. He had subject-matter for medita- 
 tion in abundance, and he knew more prayers off book than 
 many a manual contains. Moreover, like all the holy men of 
 Erin, and for that matter a vast number of the common of 
 the faithful too, he knew by heart the spiritual songs composed 
 and sung by the early saints, and preserved as a glorious heir- 
 loom by succeeding generations. Most of these poems were 
 indulgenced or privileged, and the chanting of them was 
 regarded as a truly instructive, devotional, and meritorious 
 exercise. The sublimity of the thoughts and the rhythmic 
 elegance of the diction made the recital of the verses at once 
 easy and delightful. Several of the hymns in constant use 
 were of the kind called by the Irish a Lorica, or breastplate, 
 in other words, a defensive armour fashioned to keep the 
 heart pure and to make the darts of Satan glance away. The 
 Christian people thus buckled on their spiritual armour, and, 
 chanting the sacred psalmody, felt ready to confront the 
 dangers of the day and the darkness of the night. These 
 sacred compositions, frequently of considerable length, were 
 not merely read or spoken ; they were intoned or musically 
 recited, the Irish, like the Greeks, holding poetry and music 
 to be inseparable. Moreover, they were sung out in full 
 voice, not only in the church, the monastery, and the home, 
 but in the fields and by the shore and on the mountains, >
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 287 
 
 wherever, in fact, the prayerful heart might sigh or sing towards 
 heaven. 
 
 First in favour, as in date, written in the most ancient 
 dialect of the Irish, was St. Patrick's poem, " In Tarah to-day, 
 at this awful hour, I call on the Holy Trinity " ; a hymn 
 believed to be the best protection in all dangers of soul and 
 body, a safeguard against sudden death to the person who 
 was in the habit of devoutly reciting it, and an armour to his 
 soul after death a hymn which ought to be sung for ever ! 
 
 Next, perhaps, came St. Sechnall's piece in praise of Patrick, 
 " Audite omnes amantes Deum," probably the first Latin hymn 
 composed in Ireland. An angel, it is said, promised heaven 
 to everyone who should recite the last three stanzas at lying 
 down and at rising up, and this it was the practice of the Irish 
 saints to do. 
 
 The Altus of St. Columba, " Alone am I upon the moun- 
 tain, O God of heaven ! prosper my way," composed and sung 
 in an hour of danger, was another favourite prayer, and was 
 used with great faith by travellers as a protection when setting 
 out on a journey. Angels are present while it is sung, says an 
 old commentator, the devil shall not know the path of him 
 who sings it every day, and moreover there shall be no strife 
 in the house where it is frequently sung. Some had the pious 
 habit of reciting the Alius, a poem of seventy lines, no less 
 than seven times daily. 
 
 St. Coleman's hymn, " May the Son of Mary shield us," 
 composed at the Saint's School in Cork while a pestilence 
 was raging, the abbot giving the first and last stanzas, and 
 his pupils supplying the intermediate verses, was intended 
 as a shield of protection against the perils of the hour, and 
 continued to be fervently recited by the pious under all 
 circumstances, but especially in visitations of epidemic 
 disease. 
 
 Many other poems of the kind were popularly known and 
 generally recited ; and so when the Culdee, drying and 
 grinding, and digging and delving, sang out his Gaelic and 
 latin hymns in measured cadence, he attracted no observa- 
 tion, he simply did as others did, while thereby he fed his 
 spirit with the highest and holiest thoughts, solaced his poetic 
 soul, and fulfilled to the letter the divine precept of praying 
 always.
 
 288 THE RAPT CULDEE 
 
 And as the drudgery of his daily occupations proved no 
 obstacle to the intimate union of his heart with God, so in 
 like manner the penitential course of his bodily servitude 
 seems only to have set his soul free for surer flight into the 
 heaven of poetry and song. Although at first sight it might 
 appear that his surroundings were anything but inspiring, it 
 must be allowed, on further consideration, that the situation 
 was not without its balance of compensation. Wherever he 
 turned, a scene of beauty met his gaze, something suggestive 
 met his fancy. Close by were the picturesque groups of the 
 monastic buildings and the students' shanties, sheltered by 
 ancestral trees. Now and then a chorus of youthful voices 
 burst upon the silence, the abbot's bell rang out from time 
 to time, at the canonical hours the psalm-tones of the divine 
 office, resounding from the choir, brought heaven and earth 
 together in holiest harmony. Far and wide spread cornfields 
 and pastures watered by a stream which, having left its wild 
 ways in its native glens, glided past in peaceful flow. South 
 and west extended a screen of gentle hills, rising from a 
 wooded base, and backed by a mountain range. Viewed 
 from the upper tract of the terman lands, these loftier emin- 
 ences displayed their sides and summits, royally vested in 
 dusky purple, gold, and green, with veils of blue-grey mist 
 and down-falling bands of silvery streams. From the same 
 vantage ground the prospect north and east presented a still 
 more magnificent spectacle for a wooded plain with wide 
 clearings extended on one side to the open sea, with its 
 islands and headlands and changeful surface, and stretched 
 away in another direction towards the fertile territories of 
 Oriel and Meath. 
 
 Again, the country round the monastery was full of associa- 
 tions interesting to a poet and antiquary. On the hill just 
 above the monastery ground were strewn the sepulchral 
 monuments of Parthelon's race, many thousands of whom 
 fell victims to a pestilence that devastated the territories 
 round the bay in pre-Christian times; the original name of 
 the district of Tallaght, Tamlacht Muntire Parthalen, signify- 
 ing that it was the plague grave of Parthelon's colony. Not 
 far off, in a southern direction, at Bohernabreena, were the 
 ruins of a great court or mansion of hospitality, kept by a 
 chieftain called Da-Derga, about the time of the Incarnation
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 289 
 
 of our Lord. Conary-more, the just and valorous monarch 
 of Ireland, while enjoying the hospitality of the master of the 
 Court, was slain by a band of pirates, who attacked and 
 demolished the habitation. The story of the destruction of 
 the Court of Da-Derga formed the subject of one of the 
 celebrated historic tales preserved in the ancient books of 
 Erin. Incidents less tragic, though equally striking, had in- 
 vested the adjacent glens with a poetic interest, and the 
 Thrushes' Valley (Glenasmole), through which the stream 
 came dancing down from its fountainhead on the slopes of 
 Kippure, was the very home of legend and romance. 
 
 Like all the old Irish saints, Aengus was fond of animals. 
 The harmless denizens of the fields and woods were liked for 
 their innocent demeanour and interesting ways, and even the 
 beasts of wilder nature received kindness for the sake of their 
 Creator. History is not silent with regard to the friendship 
 that existed between the Culdee and the birds. No doubt, 
 both at the mill and in the cornfields, the holy man had many 
 opportunities of doing his feathered favourites a good turn, 
 and they, as in duty bound, would have a song and a welcome 
 for him whenever he came within view of their airy dwellings. 
 How delightful it must have been in " the vocal woods," when 
 thrushes and blackbirds, and a chorus of minor minstrels, 
 poured in "full-throated ease" their tide of song, while 
 " Aengus of the festal lays " chanted in resounding tones his 
 praises of the hosts of heaven ! Once, so runs the legend, 
 when the disguised poet met with a severe accident while 
 cutting branches in a thicket, the birds became excited in an 
 extraordinary manner, and by their screams and cries seemed 
 to lament the calamity that had befallen their comrade and 
 benefactor. 
 
 But whatever be inferred or surmised, one thing is certain, 
 namely, that during his servitude at Tallaght, and amidst such 
 surroundings as these, the saint composed his famous metrical 
 Festology of the Saints. 
 
 The poem is divided into three principal parts, with sub- 
 divisions, consisting altogether of 590 quatrains. The Invoca- 
 tion is written in what modern Gaelic scholars call English 
 chain verse ; that is, an arrangement of metre by which the 
 first words of every succeeding quatrain are identical with the 
 last words of the preceding one. The following literal transla- 
 
 19
 
 2 9 o THE RAPT CULDEE 
 
 tion gives the dry bones, as it were, of the Invocation, while 
 leaving out all the colour and harmony of the verses, which 
 ask grace and sanctification from Christ on the poet's work : 
 
 " Sanctify, O Christ ! my words : 
 O Lord of the seven heavens ! 
 Grant me the gift of wisdom, 
 O Sovereign of the bright sun ! 
 
 " O bright sun who dost illuminate 
 
 The heavens with all their holiness ! 
 O King who governest the angels ! 
 O Lord of all the people ! 
 
 " O Lord of the people, 
 
 King all-righteous and good ! 
 May I receive the full benefit 
 Of praising Thy royal hosts. 
 
 " Thy royal hosts I praise 
 
 Because Thou art my Sovereign ; 
 
 1 have disposed my mind 
 
 To be constantly beseeching Thee. 
 
 " I beseech a favour from Thee, 
 
 That I be purified from my sins, 
 Through the peaceful bright-shining flock, 
 The royal host whom I celebrate." 
 
 The Invocation is followed by a poem, giving in beautiful 
 and forcible language an account of the sufferings of the early 
 Christian martyrs, and telling how the names of the perse- 
 cutors are forgotten, while the names of their victims are re- 
 membered with honour, veneration, and affection ; how Pilate's 
 wife is forgotten, and the Blessed Virgin is remembered and 
 honoured from the uttermost bounds of the earth to its centre. 
 Even in our own country (continues the poet) the enduring 
 supremacy of the Church of Christ is made manifest ; for 
 Tara had become abandoned and deserted under the vain- 
 glory of its kings, while Armagh remains the populous seat of 
 dignity, piety, and learning ; Cruachan, the royal residence of 
 the kings of Connaught, is deserted, while Clonmacnoise 
 resounds with the dashing of chariots and the tramp of multi- 
 tudes to honour the shrine of St. Kieran ; the royal palace of 
 Aillinn, in Leinster, has passed away, while the Church of St. 
 Brigid, at Kildare, remains in dazzling splendour ; Emania, 
 the royal palace of the Ulstermen, has disappeared, while the 
 holy Kevin's church, at Glendalough, remains in full glory ;
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 291 
 
 the Monarch Leaghaire's pride and pomp were extinguished, 
 while St. Patrick's name continued to shine with glowing 
 lustre. Thus the poet goes on to contrast the fleeting and 
 forgotten names and glories of the men and great establish- 
 ments of the pagan and secular world with the stability, fresh- 
 ness, and splendour of the Christian churches, and the ever- 
 green names of the illustrious, though often humble founders. 
 
 Then follows the chief poem, the Festology, beginning 
 with the Feast of the Circumcision of our Lord, for, says the 
 poet 
 
 " At the head of the congregated saints 
 Let the King take the front place." 
 
 This Festology is not confined to the Saints of Erin. The 
 author tells us that he has travelled far and near to collect 
 the names and history of the subjects of his laudation and 
 invocation ; that for the foreign saints he has consulted St. 
 Ambrose, St. Jerome, and Eusebius ; and that from " count- 
 less hosts of the illuminated books of Erin " he has collected 
 the festivals of the Irish saints. The main body of the com- 
 position is divided into twelve monthly parts, and the various 
 saints are mentioned on their respective days, with allusions to 
 their lives, their characteristics, and the localities they were 
 connected with. Thus, when St. Adamnan of lona is named 
 in September, allusion is made to his band of brilliant 
 associates ; and his countryman does not forget to say that 
 it was he whom " the glorious Jesus besought to free perma- 
 nently the Irish women." On June 3rd occurs the festival of 
 a " Soldier of Christ in the Land of Erin," a " noble name 
 over the billowy ocean" Kevin, the chaste, noble warrior, 
 whose dwelling was in the "glen of the two broad lakes." 
 May 3rd brings " The Chief Finding of the Tree of the Cross 
 of Christ, with many virtues," the death of the noble Chief 
 Conleath, and the great Festival of the Virgin Mary. 1 The 
 Calends of February are " magnified by a galaxy of martyrs of 
 great valour ; and Brigid, the spotless, of loudest fame, chaste 
 head of the Nuns of Erin." 
 
 Having mentioned and invoked the saints at their respective 
 festival days, the poet recapitulates the preceding subject, and 
 
 1 The Conception, honoured on the 8th of December in other martyr- 
 ologies, was commemorated on the 3rd of May by the Irish.
 
 292 THE RAPT CULDER 
 
 invokes the blessed ones in classes or bands under certain 
 heads or leaders the elders or ancients under Noah, the 
 prophets under Isaiah, the patriarchs under Abraham, the 
 apostles and disciples under Peter, the wise or learned men 
 under Paul, and the virgins of the world under the Blessed 
 Virgin Mary. And then follow the holy bishops of Rome and 
 Jesusalem, Antioch and Alexandria, under their great chiefs ; 
 the bands of monks and learned men under Anthony and the 
 gifted Benedict, and a division of the saints of the world 
 under Martin. Lastly are invoked once again the noble saints 
 of Erin under St. Patrick, the saints of Scotland under St. 
 Columba, and the great division of the saintly virgins of Ireland 
 under the holy St. Brigid of Kildare. 
 
 Lastly, the sacred bard in eloquent strain beseeches the 
 mercy of the Saviour for himself and all mankind, through 
 the merits and sufferings of the saints whom he has named 
 and enumerated, through the merits of their dismem- 
 bered bodies, their bodies pierced with lances, their wounds, 
 their bitter tears ; through all the sacrifices offered of 
 the Saviour's own Body and Blood, as it is in heaven, 
 upon the holy altars, through the blood that flowed 
 from the Saviour's own side, through His humanity, and 
 through His divinity in unity with the Holy Spirit and the 
 Heavenly Father. Enumerating, still in the full swing of his 
 melodious verse, the conspicuous examples of God's mercy as 
 shown forth in the Scripture history, the poet returns once 
 more to the beloved saints of Erin, whom he regards with 
 such extraordinary veneration, and beseeches Jesus again, 
 through the heavenly household, to be saved as He saved 
 St. Patrick from the poisoned drink at Tara, and St. Kevin 
 of Glendalough from the perils of the mountain. 1 
 
 Such in outline is the sublime song the Culdee composed in 
 his heart, committed to memory, and chanted in the hearing 
 of the woods, the birds, and the heavens, as he trudged through 
 the furrows and cut wattles in the woods of TallaghL No 
 doubt, as already said, he intended it for something more than 
 the fervent expression of his own piety and faith. He intended 
 and hoped that the people of Erin would in his own day, and 
 
 1 The above is an abstract of the analysis of the Festology in O'Curry's 
 Manuscript Materials of Ancient Irish History, with some particulars 
 from the Rev. Matthew Kelly's Martyrology of Tallaght.
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 293 
 
 in succeeding ages, glorify God in His saints in these very 
 words. This is evident from certain stanzas of the poem in 
 which he recommends it to the pious study of the faithful, and 
 points out the spiritual benefits to be gained by reciting it. 
 But when and in what manner it should be made known to 
 the world he could not imagine. This cause, with all else, he 
 commended to tfie faithful Creator. 
 
 Years passed on in this manner, until at length the scene 
 changed suddenly. The identity of the man at the mill with 
 the famous Aengus of Clonenagh was discovered in a strange 
 way. On a certain day, the Culdee being at work in the barn, 
 one of the children of the school rushed in, frightened and 
 breathless, and hid himself in a dark corner. Aengus spoke 
 gently to him, and asked what was the cause of his trouble. 
 The boy answered that, having failed to learn his lesson, he 
 was afraid to appear before his teacher, who would be certain 
 to punish him severely. He was then soothed and encouraged, 
 and bidden to come forth from his hiding-place. Doing as he 
 was desired, he crept forward, laid his head against the saint's 
 breast and fell asleep. After some time he awoke, and was then 
 told to repeat his lesson. Immediately, without hesitation or 
 mistake, he did so ; and having received an injunction to say 
 nothing of what had just occurred, was directed to go and 
 present himself before his master. The latter was surprised to 
 find a usually dull boy acquit himself so well on that occasion 
 and the following days, could not understand how such a 
 remarkable change had been effected, and mentioned the 
 matter to the abbot. St. Melruan sent for the boy, and, 
 suspecting that something strange had happened, obliged the 
 reluctant scholar to relate exactly all that had taken place in 
 the barn. A light flashed on the abbot's mind, and he 
 exclaimed : " This can be no other than the missing Aengus of 
 Clonenagh ! " Hastening to the barn, he joyfully embraced the 
 Culdee, reproached him affectionately for having deceived him 
 so long, and, bidding him join himself forthwith to the religious 
 community, welcomed him as a heaven-sent friend and brother. 
 Aengus, oversvhelmed with confusion, threw himself at the 
 abbot's feet and implored forgiveness for whatever cause of 
 complaint he might have given. 
 
 From that hour until death parted them, these two gifted 
 and saintly men continued to be fellow-labourers and bosom
 
 294 THE RAPT CULDEE 
 
 friends. The Culdee was appointed to lecture on the higher 
 sciences in the upper schools, and to teach theology to the 
 young religious ; and moreover, in spite of his humility, was 
 obliged to receive priestly ordination. For some time past, 
 Abbot Melruan had been engaged in compiling a prose 
 martyrology, and he now hastened to secure the co-operation of 
 his new friend in the prosecution of the work. The task was 
 a difficult one, but the pious antiquaries achieved it, and the 
 result of their joint labour is generally known as the Martyr- - 
 ology of Tallaght. According to the best authorities, it is the 
 oldest Irish martyrology in existence, and the most copious of 
 the kind written in any country at that period. Its full title is 
 Martyrologium Aengitsii filii Hoblenii et Moelruanii, 
 
 After some years had been spent in this way the abbot died, 
 and received a tribute of esteem and affection from his friend, 
 who, in the Festology, made a commemoration of Melruan, 
 the " Bright Sun of Ireland." Tallaght having lost its prin- 
 cipal attraction when its founder was called away, Aengus 
 returned to his old home at Clonenagh, where he ruled for 
 many years as abbot, while exercising at the same time 
 episcopal functions. Literary aspirations, however, were by no 
 means relinquished. The Festology was finished at his own 
 monastery, and thence made known to the world, A.D. 804, 
 with all the form and eclat proper to the publication of a 
 singularly beautiful and valuable work. The occasion was an 
 interesting one. In the course of the year just cited, Aedh, 
 Monarch of Ireland, undertook an expedition against the men 
 of Leinster, marched his forces through Offally, and encamped 
 at no great distance from Clonenagh. Fothad, Chief Poet of 
 Ireland, surnamed the Canonist from his knowledge of the 
 Church canons, accompanied the king on this expedition, and 
 Aengus took the opportunity thus afforded to submit his 
 Festology to the judgment of the Chief Poet, the highest 
 literary authority in the kingdom. The result was a cordial 
 and just recognition of the extraordinary merits of the poem, 
 a solemn approval of its publication, and an official recom- 
 mendation to the nation at large to peruse and study its pages. 
 In courteous return for a copy of the Festology presented to 
 him by the author, Fothad gave Aengus a poem which he had 
 himself lately written with a very important object in view. 
 This interchange of literary amenities was the beginning of an
 
 THE RAPT CULDEE 295 
 
 enduring friendship between the Culdee and the Chief Poet of 
 Ireland. 
 
 Many other works of great value, whether in plain prose or 
 in elegant metre, are included in the list of the Culdee's 
 writings. Among these are a collection of pedigrees of the 
 Irish saints ; the Saltair-na-Rattn, or Psalter of Verses, con- 
 sisting of 150 poems on the history of the Old Testament, written 
 in the finest style of the Gaelic language of the eighth century ; 
 and a variety of Litanies, in which, among a vast number of 
 saints invoked, are several Italian, Gallic, British, and African 
 saints who lived and died in Ireland. A very curious tract, 
 giving an account of the mothers of some of the most remark- 
 able Irish saints, is also attributed to the same authorship. 
 
 Authorities are not of accord as to the date of the saint's 
 death. In all probability he departed out of this world towards 
 the close of the first quarter of the ninth century. Clonenagh 
 undoubtedly was the place of his decease, and he died the 
 death of the saints on Friday, the nth March. Another poet, 
 his namesake, countryman, and contemporary, Aengus, Abbot 
 of Clonfert-Molua, surnamed the Wise, wrote the Culdee's 
 panegyric in a poem which tenderly laments the departure of a 
 Master of Verses, the Sun of the Western World, the Poet of 
 the Hosts of Heaven. 1 
 
 The works of St. Aengus are, at the present day, held in as 
 high esteem by the historians, the philologists, and the Celtic 
 scholars of the great European centres of learning as they were 
 in Ireland a thousand years ago. It is a wonder to all that 
 they have not long since been collected from old books diffi- 
 cult of access, and issued with a translation. They are, says 
 the editor and learned annotator of the Martyrology of Tallaght, 
 the best, and often the only authorities, on the brightest 
 period of the history of Ireland ; and a still more competent 
 authority, Eugene O'Curry, doubts whether any country in 
 Europe possesses a national document of so important a 
 character as the Festology of St. Aengus. How much longer, 
 we may ask, are these treasures to remain practically overlaid 
 and hidden amidst the mass of Ireland's unutilised resources? 
 
 1 In a lecture delivered at Oxford, Professor Matthew Arnold, referring 
 to this poem, said that though it was composed by no eminent bard, yet 
 a Greek epitaph could not show a finer perception of what constitutes 
 propriety and felicity of style in compositions of this nature.
 
 HOGAN, THE SCULPTOR 
 
 " IRELAND gave me birth," said Barry, " but never would have 
 given me bread." So little was it thought, one hundred years 
 ago or thereabout, that native talent was likely to produce a 
 noticeable work of art, that when Barry exhibited in Dublin 
 his picture of St. Patrick baptizing the King of Cashel, it 
 was not for a moment supposed, by a crowd of admiring 
 spectators, that a young Irishman might be the painter. 
 Timidly venturing to announce himself, he was met with so 
 contemptuous a sneer that he burst into tears, and rushed 
 out of the room in which was being held the first exhibition 
 of the Society, then recently established, for the Encour- 
 agement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce in Ireland. 
 Barry's genius was of a kind that no discouragement could 
 crush. He was resolved to sacrifice everything in the pursuit of 
 what others, as well as his father, considered wild and unprofit- 
 able nonsense. Despairing, and with good reason, of finding 
 appreciation and reward in his own distracted land, where the 
 arts of peace had not for centuries flourished, he left this 
 "miserable isle" in early manhood, and having settled in 
 London after a period of study on the Continent, made him- 
 self known before long as a courageous art critic, and an 
 illustrious member of the British School of Painting. 
 
 Nearly sixty years after Barry left Ireland, without much 
 hope of visiting its shores again, and possibly without much 
 regret, another young enthusiast went forth in search of higher 
 culture than could be obtained at home, but with no reproach- 
 ful or final adieu to the country of his birth. The general 
 state of affairs had improved in the interval, the country had 
 
 296
 
 HOGAN, THE SCULPTOR 297 
 
 begun to recover from the pitiable condition to which it had 
 been reduced, and a taste for art had shown itself, though in a 
 fitful way. There was, at anyrate, sufficient hope to animate 
 the courage of a young man of original genius, whose ambition 
 it was to become not only a sculptor, but so distinguished a 
 sculptor that his own people should take pride in his exellence 
 should intrust him with great works, and associate his name 
 with national and noble monuments. Hogan was twenty-three 
 years of age when he left Ireland for Rome. Six years later 
 he revisited his country, bringing with him works which, 
 having gained him great credit in Rome, now obtained him 
 the applause of all lovers of art in Ireland, and procured him 
 commissions to undertake important works for Cork and 
 Dublin. Thenceforth he was characterised as "the Irish 
 Sculptor " ; not merely because he was born in the land, and 
 was the first Irishman who had greatly distinguished himself in 
 that noble art, but principally because his best works were 
 executed for Ireland, to beautify her churches, personify her 
 nationality, and perpetuate in marble the form and the features 
 of her leaders, her poets, her men of learning, and her men of 
 worth. 
 
 Barry, in all probability, could never have gone to Italy to 
 study as a painter without the generous assistance of Edmund 
 Burke, who allowed him an annuity for the three years he was 
 thus engaged. On the other hand, Hogan owed the oppor- 
 tunity of improving himself in Rome to the zealous exertions 
 of a few friends, who stirred up men of taste, brought the 
 matter under the notice of one or two public societies, and by 
 dint of untiring perseverance succeeded in collecting subscrip- 
 tions enough to keep the wolf from the student's door while he 
 pursued his vocation in the capital of art itself. 
 
 Just fifty years have passed over since young Hogan was 
 sent to Rome. An idea of the progress we have made since 
 then may be formed if we fancy for a moment that a youthful 
 genius like Barry, hungering and thirsting after excellence, or 
 an enthusiastic student like Hogan, dreaming of the delight of 
 being one day an houour to his country, should come before 
 the public, and the project of sending him to some great centre 
 of art be started. It requires no stretch of the imagination to 
 fancy the applause that would greet the young man's efforts, 
 the encouragement his aspirations would receive, the glow of
 
 298 HOG AN. THE SCULPTOR 
 
 nationality that would be enkindled, the liberal subscriptions 
 that might possibly be offered. At anyrate, some very 
 eloquent speeches would be pronounced, and the young 
 aspirant would be told to recollect what his countrymen have 
 already accomplished. He would, if a painter, be reminded 
 of Barry's renown, of Maclise's good fortune, of Mulready's 
 success, of Danby's and Elmore's reputation, of the admiration 
 elicited by every production of Burton's exquisite pencil. Or 
 if not painting, but the severer art of sculpture had fired the 
 enthusiasm of the young artist, he would be excited to the 
 pitch of " fine frenzy " by allusion to the honours Rome 
 conferred on Hogan, and the tribute, in the form of over- 
 whelming commissions, which the three kingdoms bestow on 
 Foley. 
 
 Having thus advanced from blank incredulity in the likeli- 
 hood of the country producing anything of acknowledged 
 excellence in the higher walks of art, to a jealous eagerness to 
 claim, as national property, the talent which owes most of the 
 fostering and patronage it receives to other nations, it is not 
 unnatural to hope that another half-century may find us still 
 farther advanced, perhaps with a distinct school of our own to 
 boast of. There is nothing unreasonable in such an expecta- 
 tion ; for art, in whatever form, and at whatever time, it 
 flourished in Ireland, invariably displayed a marked originality. 
 In architecture, we can point to our stone-roofed oratories and 
 our round towers. In ornamental design, we have the opus 
 Hibernicum. Our illuminated manuscripts of the sixth century 
 are unique in style as well as unsurpassed in beauty. Every- 
 one knows that our music is original, characteristic, and 
 inimitable. 
 
 If ever we have a School of Art, it is certain we shall be no 
 way loath to talk about it In other words, we shall want to 
 have a history of its origin, development, and, let us hope, 
 ultimate perfection. Meanwhile, the more knowledge and 
 taste we acquire, the more value we shall set on these remark- 
 able men, Barry and Hogan ; and that not merely for the 
 works they produced, but also for the good example of their 
 lives. Not that they were faultless Barry, in fact, bristled 
 with faults ; but they possessed, each of them, in an eminent 
 degree, the qualities which ought to accompany, direct, and 
 control genius qualities, too, with which we as a people are
 
 HOGAN, THE SCULPTOR 299 
 
 not usually credited. Their enthusiasm, for example, was by 
 no means of a fitful, evanescent order it had the solid strength 
 of a principle, and was kept at a white heat for the length of a 
 lifetime. Untiring industry and intense mental application 
 characterised the painter and the sculptor, who took good 
 care, each of them, that study should keep pace with work. 
 In fact, they held the same opinion as that enunciated by a 
 great thinker of our own day who has defined genius to be 
 an infinite capacity for taking pains. " If I should chance to 
 have genius or anything else," wrote Barry in his youth, "it is 
 so much the better ; but my hopes are grounded upon an 
 intense, unwearied application, of which I am not sparing." 
 Hogan expressed the same idea when he said : " Labour is the 
 only price of solid fame ; whatever a man's force of genius 
 may be, there is no easy way of becoming a great artist." They 
 were temperate in their habits, strictly accurate in money 
 dealings, and independent to a degree that is at least un- 
 common. It was said of Barry, who lived in penury that he 
 might paint in peace, that he was never known to borrow 
 money nor to want it. And when Hogan's friends, wishing in 
 his latter years to lessen the strain of severe work and enable 
 him with more ease to educate his children, suggested that a 
 Government pension might be obtained for him, he would not 
 listen to the proposal. " I want nothing," he proudly said, 
 "but work." Both these men were sincere Catholics. Among 
 Barry's disagreeable peculiarities, his contemporaries reckoned 
 his "bigoted attachment to the doctrines of the Church of 
 Rome." Hogan was not so belligerent as Barry, who had a 
 taste for theological studies, and did not shrink from contro- 
 versy ; but he had a proud way of professing the faith, especially 
 when he was likely to lose by the avowal. 
 
 Several, and tolerably full, biographical sketches of Barry are 
 to be found in most libraries ; and as a member of the social 
 circle that included Johnson, Burke, Reynolds, and Goldsmith, 
 his name is familiar to all acquainted with the literature of the 
 latter part of the eighteenth century. There is much less 
 known of Hogan, though his story is well calculated to interest 
 his own countrymen in every part of the world, and to 
 stimulate young men of genius to a hearty and honourable 
 emulation. Not long after his death, a biographical notice, 
 founded on original materials obligingly intrusted to the
 
 300 HOGAN, THE SCULPTOR 
 
 writer by Mr. Hogan's family, appeared in the Irish Quarterly 
 Review. From this memoir, long since out of print, we shall 
 take (having, it may be well to observe, an unquestionable 
 right to do so) all that may be required for the following brief 
 sketch of the sculptor's career. 
 
 The first twenty-three years of John Hogan's life were passed 
 in the south of Ireland, principally in Cork, whither his father 
 removed with his family from Tallow in the County Waterford 
 soon after the birth, in 1800, of this his eldest and afterwards 
 distinguished son. The elder Hogan, a very worthy man 
 and a builder by trade, was descended from an old Tipperary 
 tribe mentioned in the Annals of the Four Masters. He had 
 married a young lady of much superior position to his own, 
 Miss Francis Cox of Dunmanway, great-granddaughter of Sir 
 Richard Cox, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland in the reign of 
 William and Mary, and Lord Chancellor under Queen Anne. 
 She had met the young man at the table of her guardian, 
 whose mansion was at the time undergoing alterations. Her 
 fortune of ^2000 was withheld by the indignant family, and 
 her husband appears to have been too proud to urge his claim 
 to the money. The home of the Hogan family, in Cove Street, 
 Cork, though somewhat humble, was a refined and happy one. 
 The children grew up with a taste for intellectual cultivation, 
 and the family affections were cherished with remarkable 
 warmth and constancy. At fourteen years of age the eldest 
 son, John, who had been for six years at Mr. Cangley's school 
 in Tallow, and became a proficient not in classics, but in the 
 study of history and mathematics, was brought home and 
 placed in the office of Mr. Michael Foote, an attorney. Legal 
 business, however, was not congenial to the lad's disposition, 
 and much of his time was spent cutting figures in wood, 
 drawing fancy sketches, and copying any architectural designs 
 that came in his way. His brother Richard, whose tastes were 
 also artistic, encouraged him in his stolen studies ; and so 
 likewise did Dr. Coghlan, an eccentric but able physician, who 
 having on one occasion surprised the idle apprentice making 
 sketches at his desk, praised his efforts and rewarded him with 
 a bright crown-piece. Subsequent visits to the office on the 
 part of the good doctor had the same pleasurable result to the 
 bright spirit chained to the desk. 
 
 Before long, however, he was set free by a happy accident.
 
 HOGAN, THE SCULPTOR 301 
 
 Certain plans and specifications required to be copied for a 
 contractor's office within a limited term, and no one was found 
 in Cork ready to undertake the task. The self-taught artist 
 was thought of, and he was pressed to do the work. Day and 
 night he laboured, had the copy ready by the appointed hour, 
 and received the highest encomiums from his employers for 
 his quickness and proficiency in outline drawing. Immediately 
 he was removed from the attorney's office to the workshop of 
 Messrs. Deane & Co., to be employed as draughtsman and 
 carver of models. His mind had been bent on architecture; 
 he did not think of being a sculptor until Mr. (afterwards 
 Sir Thomas) Deane placed the chisel in his hands, but from 
 that day forward neither he himself nor anyone else had a 
 doubt of his vocation. 
 
 With extraordinary industry he employed himself, during the 
 next few years, in mastering the principles of his art, and practis- 
 ing every kind of drawing and carving. He attended diligently 
 Dr. WoodrofTe's anatomical lectures, thus laying the foundation 
 of his subsequent success in modelling. While so engaged he 
 carved a human skeleton in wood, life-size, an achievement 
 that excited the astonishment of his fellow-students, and was 
 turned to account by the doctor, who long afterwards used the 
 figure in demonstrating to his pupils. All the time that 
 remained after business hours in his employer's workshop, and 
 many stolen hours of the night, were spent in severe study and 
 careful practice of the hand. In the year 1818 the young 
 artist and his band of sympathising friends were thrown into a 
 state of delightful excitement by the arrival in Cork of a selec- 
 tion of fine casts from the antique, which had been taken under 
 the superintendence of Canova, and sent as a present to the 
 Prince Regent by His Holiness Pius vn., as a mark of gratitude 
 for the services rendered by the English Government in the 
 removal from the Louvre, and restoration to their places in 
 Italian churches and galleries, of the works of art plundered by 
 the First Napoleon. Through the interest of some energetic 
 friend the Marquis of Connyngham, Lord Ennismore, or 
 perhaps John Wilson Croker these casts were obtained for 
 Cork, and consigned to a society lately established for the 
 encouragement of talent in that city. The gallery, or rather 
 loft, in which the casts were placed became the centre of 
 attraction to young Hogan, and the scene of his labours. He
 
 302 HOGAN. THE SCULPTOR 
 
 copied everything, from masks to life-size figures, chiselling in 
 stone, cutting in timber, or drawing in chalk. 
 
 Mr Paulett Carey, a writer on art and zealous encourager of 
 genius, visiting the gallery on one occasion, had his attention 
 attracted by a small figure of a Torso, carved with remarkable 
 skill in pine timber and bearing marks of recent workmanship, 
 which had fallen under one of the benches. In answer to his 
 inquiries, he was told the history of the talented young man 
 who so assiduously studied among the casts, and was directed 
 to an adjacent apartment, where he found the sculptor sur- 
 rounded by the works of his chisel in every variety of taste 
 and every stage of progress. Mr. Carey's experienced judg- 
 ment enabled him to recognise the genius thus struggling 
 towards development. His determination to help was as fixed 
 as his appreciation was just. With a view of obtaining sub- 
 scriptions to enable the young sculptor to go to Rome, he began 
 to write letters to the newspapers, and to interest private friends 
 and patrons of art in the enterprise he had taken so kindly to 
 heart. The result of this gentleman's exertions was the collec- 
 tion of a sum of money sufficient, if managed with severe 
 economy, to keep the young man in Rome for two or three 
 years, and allow him to pursue the study of the higher branches 
 of his art without interruption. To this fund Lord de Tabley, 
 then Sir John Fleming Leicester, contributed twenty-five pounds, 
 giving at the same time a commission for a statue in marble. 
 The Royal Dublin Society, restricted from granting premiums 
 to an artist not a student of the Dublin Academy, voted twenty- 
 five pounds for the purchase of some figures the young artist 
 had carved in wood. The Royal Irish Institution gave one 
 hundred pounds. 
 
 With the least possible delay all necessary preparations were 
 made, and the young sculptor left his happy, pious home, to 
 enter, for the first time, the great world of life and art. In 
 Dublin and London he was kindly received, got plenty of 
 advice, and also some letters of introduction. Everything was 
 new to him, and he walked at the rate of twenty miles a day, 
 seeking out whatever was specially interesting to him in his 
 professional capacity. He was not pleased with Paris, the 
 streets were so narrow and so dirty, and one ran such a risk of 
 being run over by the coaches driven quite close to the shops ! 
 However, he saw " pictures that are originals indeed, and in a
 
 HOGAN. THE SCULPTOR 303 
 
 gallery as long as the Parade of Cork !" On the Italian part of 
 the road he lingered a while, especially before the gates of 
 Gioberti in Florence, and finally arrived in Rome on Palm 
 Sunday, 1824. 
 
 Hogan began forthwith to work in right earnest, attending 
 the schools of St. Luke, studying in the halls of the Vatican and 
 the Capitol, and modelling in the life academies of the French 
 and English artists. He could not begin at once to model the 
 figure for Sir John Leicester, for he was not able to hire a 
 studio, and pay, as was required, a year's rent in hand. His 
 pension was barely sufficient to support nature, and he had to 
 study economy with hardly less attention than sculpture. It 
 would need, he wrote home, at least one hundred a year to 
 study as he liked. With that he could take a studio, pay living 
 models, cut marble, model in clay, cast in plaster, and at last 
 arrive at excellence. But such a sum was not forthcoming from 
 the old land. Doubtless, poverty saved him from many 
 temptations, as likewise did the isolation in which he found 
 himself in Rome. The Duchess of Devonshire, to whom he 
 had an introduction from Sir Thomas Lawrence, died before 
 he could present his letter. His best friend at this time was 
 Signer Gentili, afterwards the priest and preacher so idolised in 
 Dublin, but then practising law in the Eternal City. He taught 
 Italian to Hogan, who was anxious to learn the language per- 
 fectly, but who was so infatuated with his art that, coming 
 home one day, after a study in the Vatican Museum, and 
 finding Signor Gentili in the midst of his books awaiting him, 
 he sprang at the table, seized the books, and flung them out of 
 the window. " There is nothing in the world but art," he 
 cried ; " so here goes ! " However, master and pupil always 
 continued great friends. The English and Scottish artists 
 living in Rome, Hogan found less congenial. They were too 
 fond of sneering at the Catholic religion, talking of the mis- 
 government of Catholic countries, and so on. The everyday 
 life of Rome presented enough to interest the solitary student, 
 and when he could get out for a ramble over the Campagna, or 
 among the hills, he was supremely happy. He may have lived 
 in what would be considered no better than a garret elsewhere ; 
 for he had his lodging in the Vicolo dei Greci, off the Corso, 
 for two and a half crowns a month. But there was a beautiful 
 garden at the rear : the rich Pergolese grapes he and the birds
 
 504 HOGAX. THE SCULPTOR 
 
 were welcome to taste : branches bearing ripe figs reached up 
 to his window, and of these he ate full many a score ; the air 
 meanwhile being full of the odour of ripening oranges and 
 lemons. 
 
 After some time the artist's prospects began to brighten, or 
 at anyrate he took more courage. A studio offered for sale in 
 a good situation, and this he secured at a very reasonable rate. 
 It was expected that Rome would be crowded with English 
 nobility during the approaching winter, and he thought it would 
 be well to model a figure in plaster, and have something to 
 show by the time these patrons of art should arrive. The 
 subject chosen was a shepherd boy recumbent, with a pipe in 
 one hand and a goat by his side. A stout Sabine lad was the 
 model, employed for fifty hours, remunerated when the work 
 was done with five crowns, and refreshed with a draught of 
 wine. Twelve scudi were paid to zformatore to cast it in gesso. 
 Cammuccini, Gibson, and all the English artists in Rome went 
 to see the group, and pronounced it to be very like nature, and 
 modelled with a good deal of spirit, breadth, and force. The 
 next undertaking was a basso-relievo of the Dead Christ laid at 
 the foot of the Cross ; which work he hoped to be enabled to 
 cut in marble and send home to Cork as a proof to his friends 
 that their encouragement had not been abused or misapplied. 
 Then, having begun to consider what subject he should choose 
 for the figure he was commissioned to execute for Sir John 
 Leicester, he decided on adopting an idea from Gesner's idyl, 
 The Death of Abel, and modelled the figure known as Eve 
 startled at the sight of Death. The English artists congratulated 
 the young sculptor on the purity of sentiment and gracefulness 
 of outline exhibited in the model ; and Albigini and Rinaldi 
 expressed their astonishment at the mastership of the chisel he 
 displayed when, shortly afterwards, he cut the figure in marble. 
 The block he had purchased was unusually hard and perfect, 
 and he worked on it with great care and caution ; doubtless 
 pleasing his fancy the while with the thought of the pleasure 
 his work would give his generous patron when it should be 
 sent him from Rome. But just as it was receiving the final 
 touches of the chisel, the news of Lord de Tabley's death was 
 brought to the artist, who, with his usual delicacy of feeling, 
 considered it would be " wrong and unmanly " to put in a claim 
 on his successor for the acceptance of the statue " which his
 
 305 
 
 lordship had ordered for his advancement" Mr. Carey, how- 
 ever, was too watchful of his young friend's interests to be 
 dictated to by such over-refinement. The work was paid for 
 and sent home. For a number of years the case in which the 
 statue was packed remained unopened. At the Manchester 
 Exhibition of Art Treasures, 1857, the Eve was seen for the 
 first time. 
 
 Soon after the completion of Lord de Tabley's commission, 
 Mr. Hogan, calculating on receiving a considerable remittance 
 from Cork, purchased a block and set a scarpellino to rough out 
 the Shepherd Boy, while he himself continued his studies at 
 the English Life Academy, and began to model what he called 
 " an active, light, and strong figure of a fawn." This was the 
 afterwards well-known Drunken Fawn, 1 one of the most remark- 
 able of Mr. Hogan's works, and worthy of the highest praise 
 for originality of design and masterly execution. Cammuccini 
 and the other Italian artists were delighted with it, and gave 
 the sculptor, ungrudgingly, a meed of praise that acted, he 
 said, in the same manner as the sound of a trumpet to the ears 
 of a war-horse Thorwaldsen likewise went to see the Fawn, 
 and pronounced the figure worthy of an Athenian studio. "Ah \ " 
 said he, striking the artist familiarly on the shoulder, " you are 
 a real sculptor Avcte fatto un miracolo!" Greatly as the 
 Danish sculptor admired the Fawn, he was still more pleased 
 with a second figure of the Dead Christ modelled not long 
 afterwards, and pronounced by that very high authority the 
 Irish artist's capo f opera. The form, proportion, dignity of 
 character and expression, were universally admired ; the head 
 has been pronounced one of the finest known in sculpture. Of 
 the pathetic and religious character of the composition, an idea 
 may be formed from the avowal of the artist, who, writing home 
 to his father, said that although it was his own work he had 
 been once or twice deeply affected by it himself. All he 
 wanted now was an order from Cork to execute the figure in 
 marble. He would be content, he declared, to live on macaroni 
 al sugo and polenta, so that he could purchase a fine block, 
 and return with flying colours to Ireland to exhibit a work he 
 need not be ashamed of. 
 
 Encouragement sufficient to enable him to proceed having 
 been received from home, the Dead Christ was finished, and 
 1 A cast of it is in the Dublin National Museum.
 
 306 HOGAN. THE SCULPTOR. 
 
 Mr. Hogan resolved to visit his own country. Having packed 
 up his marble figure of the Dead Christ, his cast of the Drunken 
 Fawn, some busts and a few studies in plaster, and having seen 
 the brig containing the cases safe down the Tiber, he stowed 
 into a soldier's knapsack his small stock of wearing apparel, a 
 guidebook, notebook, and passport, and set out by the cheapest 
 route on his hohieward journey; leaving, not without regret) 
 the charmed precincts of Vecchia Roma,, where he acknowledges 
 " a frank and familiar intercourse with professors of all nations 
 opens a man's eyes," and where "there is felt a certain stimulus 
 in the air which makes a person think and fare like an artist.' 5 
 
 Mr. Hogan received a gratifying reception on his arrival in 
 Dublin, in the month of November 1829. The members of 
 the Royal Irish Institution placed their board-room at his 
 disposal for the exhibition of his works. The Royal Dublin 
 Society awarded him a gold medal. He was warmly received 
 by the Dublin artists, and visitors of every degree hastened to 
 admire the Dead Christ and wonder at the Fawn. The Arch- 
 bishop, the Most Rev. Dr. Murray, was anxious to purchase 
 the Dead Christ for the Cathedral, but there was probably a 
 difficulty in setting on foot a subscription for the purpose. 
 The Carmelite community offered ^400 for the figure, and 
 though the sum was considerably below the value of the work, 
 the offer was accepted. The money was paid at once, and the 
 statue placed beneath the high altar in the Clarendon Street 
 Church. Before leaving Ireland, Mr. Hogan received the 
 earnestly desired commission to execute a figure of the Dead 
 Christ in marble for Cork, and an order for a group for Francis 
 Street Church in Dublin. 
 
 On his return to Italy he repaired to Carrara, and remained 
 two months in the neighbourhood of the quarries, in search of 
 a spotless block for the Dead Christ. He completed an 
 entirely new cast for this work, making several important alter- 
 ations in details, and considerably improving the design. 
 Immediately on his arrival in Rome, he commenced the group 
 for Francis Street Church. This was the Pieta, of which a 
 cast now occupies the place over the high altar. In Rome, it 
 was thought a matter of certainty that this work had only to 
 be seen in Ireland to obtain him a commission to do it in 
 marble. The artist himself cherished hopes on this score that 
 turned out sadly delusive. We had not made such progress
 
 HO CAN, THE SCULPTOR 307 
 
 in Ireland as to expend ^1000 on a work of the kind, and it 
 would have cost no less a sum to finish it in marble. The 
 original cast continued for many years to occupy the most 
 prominent position in Mr. Hogan's Roman studio. The classic 
 character of the composition always obtained for it enthusiastic 
 admiration. An outline engraving appeared in the Ape Italiana^ 
 and a highly appreciative description of the composition may 
 be found in Count Hawks le Grice's Walks through the Studii 
 of the Sculptors at Rome. 
 
 In 1837 Mr. Hogan received a commission for a monu- 
 mental group to the memory of the illustrious Dr. Doyle, 
 Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin, having carried off the palm 
 from ten competitors. The genius displayed in the design 
 and execution of this group obtained for the sculptor the 
 honour of being elected a member of the Society of the 
 Virtuosi of the Pantheon. This, the greatest distinction an 
 artist can enjoy, was never dreamt of nor sought for by Mr. 
 Hogan. Great, therefore, was his surprise and joy when the 
 secretary of the society, an archbishop, announced to him by 
 letter that he had been unanimously elected. His diploma 
 was presented to him by Signer Fabris, the personal friend of 
 Gregory xvi., and afterwards director of the Vatican and of 
 the Museum of the Capitol. The uniform worn by the 
 members is a splendid one. On the buttons are represented 
 the compass, chisel, and pencil, with the motto, Florent in 
 Domo Domini, and the wearer is entitled to carry "a true 
 Toledo, silver mounted." No British subject had ever been 
 enrolled among the members of this select society. Our 
 countryman became a member, under equally flattering circum- 
 stances, of the Academy of St. Luke. 
 
 The Doyle Monument was brought to Ireland by Mr. Hogan 
 in 1840, and exhibited for some months in the Royal Exchange. 
 Crowds of people went to see the work, and gazed with a 
 feeling akin to veneration on the majestic figure of the bishop, 
 and the pathetic yet dignified form of Hibernia. 1 The artist 
 
 1 A writer in the Pallade, a Roman journal dedicated to the Arts, enters 
 into a minute description of the group. Among other things he says : 
 " In this work the sculptor has represented Ireland, by personification, in 
 an attitude of submission, as one patiently supporting the burden of the 
 unjust and oppressive laws which had been imposed upon her. She is 
 plunged in profound and yet dignified melancholy, but her countenance, 
 bent towards the earth closely, indicates an inward feeling of doubtful hope.
 
 3 o8 HOGAN, THE SCULPTOR 
 
 himself was rather overwhelmed by the personal attentions he 
 received. Invitations to viceregal banquets, and the continual 
 reappearance of " couriers booted and spurred, sweating with 
 despatch from the Castle," together with similar attentions 
 bestowed on him by other distinguished and influential parties, 
 nearly exhausted his patience and good humour. He used to 
 complain of all it cost him on these occasions for car-hire and 
 other expenses, and would characteristically express a wish that 
 they would send him, instead of a polite invitation, a ready 
 boiled or roasted turkey, which he might eat at home in peace 
 with a pleasant friend or two. One thing, however, did afford 
 him some consolation, and that was the pleasure and pride he 
 felt in appearing on these festive occasions in the full uniform 
 of the Virtuosi of the Pantheon. No other British subject, he 
 knew very well, could do so. Unfortunately, the admiration 
 bestowed on his work, and the magnificent hospitality extended 
 to himself, were no compensation to the artist for the want of 
 prompt and sufficient payment. Mr. Hogan considered him- 
 self extremely ill-used by the Doyle committee. He had at 
 one time to apply to the Roman banker, Torlonia, for money 
 to go on with the work, no remittances having been forwarded 
 from Ireland, and some years after the commission was given, 
 more than ,400 remained still due to the sculptor. However, 
 before his departure for Rome, he received another commission, 
 and under circumstances both complimentary and satisfactory. 
 Captain Drummond, Under-Secretary for Ireland, having 
 died in the spring of the same year (1840), it was resolved to 
 raise a subscription for the erection of a monument to the man 
 whose loss was justly regarded as a public calamity, and whose 
 love for Ireland had exhibited something of romance in its 
 tenderness and tenacity. It was not forgotten, that when on 
 
 blended with gratification arising from the knowledge that one of her own 
 beloved children has undertaken with strenuous and powerful efforts the 
 assertion of her cause before the empire. The bishop, in a posture 
 expressive of tenderness and emotion, his left hand approaching her back 
 below the left shoulder, and his right raised in dignified and earnest 
 supplication, with his face to heaven, stands by the drooping figure of his 
 country, as it were, to raise her from the anguish and distress in which for 
 so many ages she had groaned, his confidence fixed above thither he 
 addresses the fervent aspiration of his soul for the welfare of his l>eloved 
 Ireland. Such is the philosophical conception of the work a conception 
 which has an intimate connection with the history of that fertile and 
 unhappy land so long the victim of political and religious dissensions."
 
 HOG AN, THE SCULPTOR 309 
 
 his deathbed he was asked where he wished to be laid to rest, 
 in Scotland, his native country, or in Ireland, his immediate 
 answer was, " In Ireland, the land of my adoption. I have 
 loved her well, and served her faithfully, and lost my life in 
 her service." The erection of a colossal statue was decided 
 on, and it was resolved to give the commission, without com- 
 petition, to the sculptor of the Doyle Monument. The terms 
 offered were liberal ,500 in hand, 200 to be paid in Rome 
 when the work was modelled and cast, ^500 on the arrival of 
 the statue in Dublin, the artist not to be at any expense in the 
 matter of freight, insurance, pedestal. The terms were kept 
 to the letter ; Lord Morpeth proving on this occasion, and not 
 for the last time, a good friend to Mr. Hogan. The statue 
 was finished early in the year 1843, but was detained till spring 
 in the Roman studio, where it created somewhat of a sensation 
 on account of the spirit of the execution and the sentiment 
 which it breathes. 1 
 
 At this period Mr. Hogan had several important works on 
 hands. Among others, Lord Cloncurry's Hibernia ; a statue 
 for Cork of one of his own earliest and best friends, Mr. 
 Crawford, on which, as he said himself, he poured out all his 
 soul; and the colossal figure of O'Connell, ordered by the 
 Repeal Association. When the model for the Liberator's 
 statue was completed, the artist made a journey to the marble 
 quarries or caves of Saravezza, distant about two hundred 
 and fifty miles from Rome, and spent a considerable time 
 searching for a faultless block for the gigantic figure. 
 
 The block he selected was of an immense grossezza, and 
 proved immaculate indeed. The moment he saw it on the 
 mountain-side he was able to perceive within the rough contour 
 of the huge mass his intended colossal figure, concealed from 
 all eyes but his own, in the vast block just hewn from the 
 bowels of the mountain. When purgato, that is to say, cleaned 
 from the worthless portions, it was shipped for Rome. The 
 immense mass was dragged from the Ripa Grande, on the 
 Tiber, through the city by a long train of oxen, and representa-' 
 
 1 "When I went to Ireland in 1852," writes Miss Martineau, "one of 
 my first objects in Dublin was to see the statue of my poor old friend in 
 the Royal Exchange. It was a far more pathetic sight than I had imagined. 
 It was the same face, but I should hardly have known it without looking 
 for it, so worn, almost haggard in comparison with what it had been ! 
 It justified his closing words, ' I die for Ireland.' "
 
 310 HOG AN. THE SCULPTOR 
 
 dons were made to Mr. Hogan about the danger of injuring 
 the streets by dragging over them so weighty a mass. An 
 addition had to be made to the studio in preparation for the 
 reception of the block, which was got in through a breach 
 made on the occasion in the outer wall of the building. A 
 correspondent of the Art Journal, writing home in terms of 
 the highest admiration of the Hibernia then completed, and of 
 the O'Connell in progress, remarked that the marble in which 
 the latter figure was being cut was, for its size, of a most 
 remarkable quality : " Its colour beautiful and without a speck, 
 and so hard that, as they chisel it, it rings like a bell." 
 
 Though Mr. Hogan not unfrequently visited Ireland, Rome 
 was his home from 1824 to 1848. These twenty-four years 
 were the busiest and the happiest of his life. During the 
 greatest part of the time his studio was in the Vicolo di S. 
 Giacamo, a small street running from the Corso to the Ripetta 
 under the walls of the Great Hospital of S. Giacomo. It had 
 been part of Canova's studio, vacated a short time before Mr. 
 Hogan's arrival in Rome by the death of the great Italian. 
 As the original casts of their works are always preserved by 
 sculptors, their studii are generally places of considerable 
 interest. In Rome they are the common resort of all travellers, 
 literary people, and persons of taste. If the artist himself be 
 not occupied with his living models or sitters, he generally 
 receives his visitors and accompanies them, or at least gives 
 them perfect liberty, to inspect his works. The Irish sculptor 
 was himself a striking figure in the studio. His tall, lithe, 
 powerful frame, and his noble head and eagle look were 
 eminently characteristic. He was full of gesture and vivacity, 
 yet withal was simple in manner and direct in speech. Among 
 the visitors at Mr. Hogan's studio were often to be seen a 
 group of Irish students from the Franciscan College of St. 
 Isidore, or from the Augustinian house of Santa Maria in 
 Posterula, or of Irish Dominicans from San Clemente. 
 Students from the Irish College of St. Agatha would sometimes 
 drop into their countryman's studio to see some work in pro- 
 gress the majestic figure of Dr. Doyle, or O'Connell, or Davis, 
 or Drummond ; the monumental effigy of Dr. Brinkley, or 
 Peter Purcell, or Father M'Namara; the portrait -busts of 
 Father Mathew, Father Prout, or some other distinguished 
 countryman. No one visiting Mr. Hogan's studio could fail to
 
 HOG AN, THE SCULPTOR 311 
 
 observe that the subjects that had most attraction for him in 
 the ideal order were the group of the Pieta, the form of the 
 Dead Christ, and the personification of his country in the 
 figure of Hibernia, 
 
 His brother artists, as we have said, were to be met with 
 from time to time in the Irish sculptor's studio. Among the 
 Italians of the same profession he had many friends, notably, 
 besides those already mentioned, Tadolini and Rinaldi, and 
 Tenerani, whom the Italians called the Goliath of sculptors. 
 But most of all he valued the friendship of Giovanni Benzoni. 
 With Gibson, Wyatt, Macdonnel, and Theed, Mr. Hogan was 
 on friendly terms. The greatest of them all, Thorwaldsen, 
 had, as already stated, the highest opinion of our countryman. 
 When about to return to Denmark he took leave of Mr. Hogan, 
 embracing him warmly. "My son," said he, "you are the 
 best sculptor I leave after me in Rome." 
 
 Mr. Hogan, who was always a hard-working man, was to be 
 found every morning in his studio at five o'clock if there was 
 light, and generally during the summer still earlier, and his 
 siesta was never a long one. The men employed by him to 
 rough out his works in marble were frequently assisted by him 
 in the operation of " taking the points," which, according to 
 the old system still used in Italy, and unaided by mechanism, 
 required the nicest accuracy ; and when the block of marble 
 was reduced by them to a tolerable approximation to his model, 
 he was in the constant habit of taking the chisel into his own 
 hands and bringing out himself all the fine developments of 
 muscle, and all the critical details of the drapery, without 
 waiting to content himself with giving merely the last touches. 
 In this way he took upon him a great deal of additional labour 
 labour which few sculptors have the mechanical skill to 
 undertake. Many sculptors are utterly unable to handle their 
 own works except in the plastic clay in which the model is 
 first produced, and for every subsequent operation are obliged 
 to depend on the skill and expertness of tradesmen. But it 
 was not so with Mr. Hogan. He was generally his own for- 
 matore, making the waste-mold for the clay and casting the 
 plaster model ; and also, as we have said, when there was 
 difficulty or nicety, he took upon himself the harder manual 
 labour of the scarpellino. Thus to his own hands are to be 
 attributed the delicate softness of the flesh and the peculiar
 
 3 i2 HOG AN, THE SCULPTOR 
 
 grace of many a fold in his works in the rigid marble. It is 
 said of Michael Angelo that he chiselled a statue out of a block 
 of marble without the preliminary step of modelling it, and 
 Mr. Hogan has often been known to deviate boldly from his 
 model in transferring the work to marble, a thing which would 
 be impossible unless he held the chisel in his own hand, and 
 which must have required great skill in guiding it, and no 
 little courage in attempting an alteration in such a material 
 
 After his marriage in 1838 to an Italian lady, Mr Hogan, to 
 whom the dissipated style of life in which artists frequently 
 indulge had always been distasteful, became more and more 
 domestic in his habits, seldom going abroad for amusement 
 except when accompanied by his family. In many things he 
 had become a perfect Italian, and few Italians were more 
 abstemious. About seven or eight o'clock in the morning he 
 might be usually met at the large cafe near the Church of San 
 Carlo in the Corso. Here he came to sip a tazza of coffee, 
 which, with about two mouthfuls of bread, constitutes the 
 Roman breakfast, and to read Galignani, where he met an 
 occasional paragraph of Irish news. In the evening he never 
 exceeded a glass or two of sober orvieto, or of the bitter infusion 
 the Germans call beer. Sometimes he walked in the evening 
 with his family on the Corso, and sometimes he took them out 
 for a holiday to Albano or some of the picturesque towns 
 beyond the Campagna. He was hospitable to friends, and 
 very frequently had young English or Irish artists at his table. 
 For many years before he left Rome he occupied a spacious 
 house in the Via del Babuino, one of the three great streets 
 which diverge from the Piazza, del Popolo, the other extremity 
 of that street being in the fashionable thoroughfare of the 
 Piazza di Spagna. 
 
 But the " continual round of peace " which, to use his own 
 words, Mr. Hogan enjoyed at this time, was brought, as well 
 as his twenty-four years' residence in Rome, to a disastrous 
 termination. The revolution of 1848 shattered the peace of 
 that happy household as it shook the foundations of the 
 Eternal City itself. The general despondency which followed 
 the siege of Rome affected the artist's mind with perhaps too 
 deep a gloom, and he resolved to return to Ireland. He had 
 many times expressed a wish to have his children educated in 
 the country of his birth ; yet, were it not for the evil times
 
 HOG AN, THE SCULPTOR 313 
 
 that had fallen on Italy, he might have long hesitated to break 
 up his home in a country to whose climate and manners he had 
 long been naturalised, in which it is easier than elsewhere to 
 support a family upon limited means, and where, as in matters 
 of art the mind naturally turns to Rome, patronage would have 
 more surely found him. It was indeed an evil day when 
 Hogan stowed away among the casts of his works such articles 
 of property as he did not care to remove, and, giving the key 
 of his studio to his good friend Benzoni, turned his back on 
 that beloved second home, and led his wife and young Italian 
 children to his distant motherland. 
 
 The next ten years of the artist's life were saddened by 
 many trials and disappointments. He had left the terrors of 
 the revolution behind him in Italy only to encounter the 
 horrors of the famine time at home. There was little artistic 
 work to be done, and that little was, in some remarkable 
 instances, not given to Mr. Hogan, but intrusted to incom- 
 petent hands. We need only refer in this place to the Moore 
 Testimonial, which remains a memorial of the injustice done 
 to an eminent artist, and can be regarded in no other light 
 than as a national disgrace. The rejection of Mr. Hogan's 
 models for the Moore Testimonial gave him a severe shock, 
 and brought on a dangerous attack of illness. He could only 
 account for the injury done to him on this and some other 
 occasions by supposing that he must have had secret enemies 
 bent on his ruin. He had lived so long out of Ireland that he 
 forgot how often our unfortunate propensity for jobbing in 
 committee leads to unjust and atrocious proceedings. Nor did 
 he remember the prevailing ignorance of artistic matters that 
 accounted, as nothing else could account, for the want of con- 
 sideration too often shown him by would-be patrons as well as 
 by public bodies. It is also true that there was felt to be a 
 certain prestige about getting a work done in Rome which did 
 not attach to the execution of a similar work at home ; and 
 that some who would have been willing to give him a com- 
 mission in Italy did not care to employ him in Dublin. Most 
 of all was he irritated by a misapprehension which prevailed in 
 some qurters as to the cause of his leaving Rome. It was 
 erroneously supposed that because he had left Italy during the 
 revolutionary period, his departure must have been attributable 
 to political reasons. This injurious suspicion, Mr. Hogan
 
 3U f/OGA.V. THE SCULPTOR 
 
 fancied, made him be regarded with a certain coldness on 
 some occasions when he fully expected to meet with a cordial 
 reception. 
 
 Certainly, to the artist's nature, sensitive to the verge of 
 irritability, nothing could be more ungenial than the atmos- 
 phere in which during these years he was obliged to live. He 
 had a host of small annoyances to bear beside the serious 
 troubles that made his latter years unhappy. No doubt a 
 little more patience with a people uneducated in art, and some- 
 what more tolerance for professional inferiority, would have 
 tended to make his own life less uncomfortable. When a 
 member of committee wanted to have spectacles put on a 
 statue, the artist might as well have laughed as have become 
 enraged ; but when one of his exquisitely-chiselled figures, to 
 remove the hue of antiquity it had already assumed, was 
 scoured with freestone as a preparation for its appearance 
 at an exhibition, we cannot blame him for fretting at an 
 example of the way in which ignorance can inflict an injury 
 as well as malignity. Unfortunately, instances were not 
 wanting in his experience of hardship and injustice for which 
 no plea of ignorance could be alleged. The owner of one 
 of his alto-relievos, it is said, allowed the work to be copied 
 three times for the profit of another sculptor; and all his 
 attempts to obtain a settlement of the balance due for the 
 Dead Christ in St. Finbar's Church in Cork proved un- 
 successful. 1 
 
 Happily, Mr. Hogan's devotion to art did not unfit him for 
 the practical business of life. Though generous in affording 
 help to others, he was never recklessly extravagant, nor even 
 careless in the expenditure of money. His frugality and 
 good sense enabled him to support his numerous family 
 in comfort and respectability. He was admirable as the 
 
 1 We believe that since Mr. Hcgan's death his family have received a 
 considerable part, if not the whole, of the sum due for this work. At one 
 time it was suggested that the sculptor should try to get possession of this 
 statue, which would be certain to find a purchaser in America, if not in 
 Ireland. But he said, " No, I will not have the curses of the people, 
 accustomed to pray before that statue, on my head ; let it remain where it 
 is." And, indeed, a most prayer-inspiring and beautiful object it is in St. 
 Finbar's Church excellently placed, and to be seen by all and at all times. 
 The Dead Christ in Clarendon Street Church, Dublin, is also admirably 
 placed, and always visible.
 
 HOG AN, THE SCULPTOR 315 
 
 head of a family, and the strength of the domestic affections 
 ensured him an amount of happiness which consoled him 
 for the disappointments he met with in other spheres. All 
 his interests centred in his children, he could not bear to 
 be long away from them. He seldom accepted an invita- 
 tion to spend th eevening out, and, when he did, he was 
 all impatience to get home again. It was his custom to 
 gather his children round him in the evening, and while 
 they were engaged in their studies he would read some 
 amusing book, now and then translating a passage into Italian 
 for his wife. At nine o'clock the household retired to rest, 
 unless on festival days, when the family devotions would be 
 somewhat lengthened. During the school holidays he always 
 occupied himself in the studio, teaching his sons to draw from 
 the round. 
 
 After a time the deep gloom that had overshadowed the 
 country began to clear away, and Mr. Hogan's prospects also 
 became brighter. His old friend Dr. Mulloch, Bishop of 
 Newfoundland, gave him a commission to execute important 
 works for the Cathedral of St. John's. He received several 
 orders from private individuals. It was decided that the statue 
 of O'Connell for Limerick should be given to him ; and he 
 was requested to prepare a model for a statue of Father 
 Mathew about to be erected in Cork. There was a good deal 
 of talk just then of a monument to Goldsmith for Dublin, and 
 a statue of Sarsfield for Limerick ; and there was little reason 
 to doubt that Mr. Hogan would have had these works intrusted 
 to him. The idea delighted him. He was fond of counting 
 over with his friends the cities, towns, churches, and convents 
 in Ireland which possessed works of his, and he now hoped 
 that the list would be increased. In fact, he believed that 
 what he had foreseen nearly thirty years before as the result of 
 Catholic Emancipation was about to be accomplished, and 
 that at last the arts would be "pushed on gloriously in 
 Ireland." He was satisfied that if his life were lengthened 
 a few years he should be able to leave his family in easy 
 circumstances. In Rome his studio remained undisturbed, 
 filled with casts of his works. His dream was to return 
 to the genial land where he had lived and laboured for so 
 many years, and near his dear friend Benzoni, and, with 
 his eldest son, whom he was educating as a sculptor, beside
 
 316 HOG AN, THE SCULPTOR 
 
 him, to resume a life of peaceful study and noble pro- 
 ductiveness. 1 
 
 But this was a dream not destined to be realised. His 
 health declined, and for a year before his death he was often 
 restless at night and unfit for work by day. When unable to 
 sleep, it was his habit to light a lamp and read a chapter of his 
 favourite book, The Imitation of Christ. Sometimes he would 
 arise, take a light and go down to his studio to recall, 
 perhaps, the inspirations that had once informed the shapeless 
 mass, or to refresh the weary spirit with a vision of what yet 
 might be accomplished. On one of these occasions he was 
 found kneeling in prayer before his own figure of the Dead 
 Saviour the same work which, twenty years before, he had 
 told his father was greatly admired by the artists in Rome, and, 
 though his own work, had sometimes affected himself. On 
 the Sunday preceding his death he left his bed and stole down 
 to the studio. He looked round on his unfinished works, and 
 pausing in front of a work in marble which was being executed 
 at the cost of a private gentleman for the then recently erected 
 Church of St. Saviour in Dublin, he said to his son and to his 
 assistant, " P'inish it well, boys ; I shall never handle the chisel 
 more ! " 
 
 When he lay down again, he directed a search to be made 
 for an engraving of Thorwaldsen's statue of the Redeemer, 
 which those about him had not been aware that he possessed. 
 This he had pinned to the wall in such a way that his eyes 
 could conveniently turn to it ; and he seemed never tired of 
 gazing upon a figure which he said would in itself have been 
 enough to immortalise a sculptor the gently outstretched arms 
 and whole attitude so well expressed the idea, Venite ad me 
 omnes ! From time to time he spoke with the friends who 
 were round his bed of times long gone by, and of the loved 
 ones who had preceded him to life eternal. He talked of the 
 father he had idolised, of the pious mother who had made his 
 
 1 Lady Morgan, a very sincere friend of Mr. Hogan, who presented to 
 her a cast of the Shepherd Boy, left by her will a sum of ^100 for a monu- 
 ment to Carolan, the Irish bard, to be executed by " Hogan the Younger." 
 This work, a prominent feature of which is a portrait-bust in high relief of 
 the harper, is, we understand, now on the way from Rome ; and will 
 before long occupy its destined position in St. Patrick's Cathedral. Judg- 
 ing from a photograph taken of the monument, we have no doubt it will 
 be considered highly creditable to the young sculptor.
 
 HOG AN, THE SCULPTOR 317 
 
 youthful days so happy, of the only brother who had died early, 
 and of the sister who had devoted her life to God. He spoke 
 of them as if they were not far from him. And then he would 
 pray for his children, and taking his wife's hand, assure her that 
 he would watch over her most certainly watch over her. For 
 some hours before his death he seemed insensible, except that 
 when they read the prayers for the dying he audibly made the 
 responses, and for a long time the only words he uttered 
 were " Beautiful ! how beautiful ! " 
 
 On the 27th March 1858 the sculptor breathed his last, in 
 the fifty-eighth year of his age. Three days after his death his 
 remains were carried to Glasnevin Cemetery in a hearse open 
 at the sides, so that as the procession passed through the city 
 it was observed that on the coffin lay the hat and sword, 
 scabbard and sword-belt, worn by the Virtuosi of the Pantheon 
 the insignia of the honours he had won and worn with pride 
 in the city of arts. His four sons followed, and a long train of 
 men distinguished in every calling members of the bar and 
 the press and the medical profession, literary men and artists, 
 representatives of the secular clergy, the Friar Preachers, and 
 the Jesuit Fathers. As the procession approached Trinity 
 College, the students, wearing academic cap and gown, and 
 headed by two of the Fellows, issued two by two from the 
 inner entrance, and, lifting their caps as they passed the hearse, 
 took up their position, and headed the procession in its passage 
 through the city. As the Europe Artiste said : " Genius had 
 its triumph even in the vain, shallow city of Dublin ; and the 
 funeral car of Hogan, the great sculptor, who died poor as he 
 had lived, was yet followed to the grave by a file of private 
 carriages long enough to cover two of the Boulevards of 
 Paris." 
 
 The committee of the Glasnevin Cemetery had offered a plot 
 of ground in any part of the cemetery that might be chosen for 
 the sculptor's grave ; and in the old " O'Connell Circle " he 
 was laid to rest, in a spot now covered by a plain slab, on 
 which the single word HOGAN is inscribed. 
 
 A hope has more than once been expressed to see a monu- 
 ment raised over the remains of so distinguished an Irishman. 
 Departed genius may be honoured, we think, in other ways 
 than in the erection of monumental structures, and Hogan's 
 fame would hardly be much extended by the erection of a pile
 
 3i8 HOG AN. THE SCULPTOR 
 
 of masonry in Glasnevin, where mediocrity is wont to lie 
 buried beneath a mountain of granite, and " mute inglorious " 
 citizens are sometimes, and with too sharp an irony, dis- 
 tinguished by "a loud epitaph upon their marble." Perhaps 
 at no distant day a statue of Moore, cast in bronze from Hogan's 
 model so memorably rejected, may be erected in our capital. 
 Perhaps that beautiful statue of Davis may also be cast in 
 bronze, and set up in one of our provincial cities. Perhaps 
 the Pieta may in course of time be executed in marble, and 
 placed in one of the beautiful churches erected within the last 
 half-century in Catholic Ireland. Meanwhile we would venture 
 to suggest to the directors of the National Gallery in Dublin, 
 the propriety of making some effort to secure one of Hogan's 
 works, or a series of casts of his works, for that institution. 
 Assuredly some tribute should in our generation be paid to the 
 memory of a man of singular moral worth, gifted with un- 
 doubted genius, and inspired with that elevated and sustained 
 enthusiasm without which art is lowered to handicraft and 
 literature degraded to a trade.
 
 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" 
 
 OBSERVING the efficient and courteous way in which a lady of 
 my acquaintance discharges the duties of a Sodality Librarian, 
 I have oftentimes admired her tact in suiting the tastes and 
 supplying the wants of readers who, though they may have a 
 tolerably clear idea of what they should like, do not always 
 seem to know precisely what it is they ought to ask for. Once 
 only do I remember to have seen her at a loss, and that was 
 on a certain occasion when a bright little maid, stepping up 
 to the table in front of the book-shelves, delivered herself in 
 the following terms : 
 
 " Please, ma'am, my mother wants something to read, and 
 says she would be very much obliged if you could lend her the 
 life of a commonplace saint ! " 
 
 How our good librarian managed to meet so unusual a 
 demand, I cannot now say, but I recollect that she remarked 
 on the moment that it was to be feared the story of " common- 
 place saints " had never been written except in the Book of 
 Life. The incident, however, started a discussion, which was 
 carried on with considerable animation for some time by 
 a group of " heads of classes " who happened to be stand- 
 ing by. So quaint an association of the ordinary with the 
 extraordinary suggested some interesting reflections, and 
 examples were quoted as bearing on the case in point. 
 Among other things, it was remarked that saints following 
 vocations of an altogether exceptional character are recorded 
 to have cherished an exalted idea of the perfection of devout 
 persons who undoubtedly treaded their way to heaven along 
 very humble paths ; and that some, whose nimbus of sanctity 
 
 319
 
 320 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" 
 
 was all but dazzlingly visible to those around them, had 
 avowedly been impelled to "strive for the mastery " by the 
 example of, perhaps, a relative or acquaintance, whose holiness 
 the world at large seemed never to have divined. The ques- 
 tion was, whether those unsuspected mirrors of perfection 
 might not, if their simple story were told, answer completely 
 to many a one's idea of " a commonplace saint." 
 
 " In the history of the Egyptian solitaries," said one of the 
 interlocutors, " you will find, if I mistake not, an example of 
 what might be called ' commonplace sanctity' held up to one 
 of the great hermit-saints as a model on which to form him- 
 self to a still higher perfection than he had attained after years 
 of penance and prayer in the wilderness." 
 
 " You need not travel quite so far as the African deserts," 
 rejoined another, " to see how a lowly sanctity may pass un- 
 heeded even in the midst of a community of godly men, and 
 yet win the delighted recognition of the angelic host, and 
 stimulate an illustrious servant of God to undertake a memor- 
 able achievement. Recall the story of our own St. Aengus, 
 and you will discover a pendant for the lesson taught by God 
 to the famous anchorite of the East." 
 
 " After all," struck in a third, as if to clinch the argument, 
 " what the little girl's mother really desires, for her own special 
 edification and encouragement, is simply an account of the life 
 of one of God's servants whom the children of this world 
 would probably designate as quite a commonplace sort of 
 person ; while the sons of light would discern in him, or in 
 her, as the case might be, a gem of the purest water. Cer- 
 tainly, it would help us greatly if we kept well in mind the 
 simplicity of the elements which constitute the perfection of 
 those who are saints according to God." 
 
 Mentally, I made a note of this suggestive conversation, and 
 on my return home lost no time in looking up the desert 
 saints, while postponing to a later day an antiquarian ramble 
 on the track of " the rapt Culdee." The indicated illustration 
 from Oriental sources was not long to seek. It turned up in 
 the Life of St. Macarius the Elder. 
 
 Far removed from commonplace, indeed, was the type of 
 this man's sanctity. His early years were spent in watching 
 flocks and herds with his father, a shepherd dwelling in Lower 
 Egypt, at the beginning of the fourth century of the Christian
 
 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" 321 
 
 era. From childhood he was distinguished for his singular 
 holiness of life he had ever before him a high ideal of re- 
 ligious conduct ; and when he grew to manhood, he built for 
 himself a hut near a poor village, and took up his abode 
 therein, devoting himself to the austere routine of a prayerful, 
 laborious, secluded life, and desiring nothing so much as to 
 avoid the dangers of the world and the notice of his fellow- 
 men. But his was a light that could not be hid. The wisdom 
 of his unstudied words, the charity of his simple heart, his 
 heroic patience in bearing injuries inflicted on him by the 
 malignity of a wicked neighbour, attracted the reverential 
 regard of those among whom he lived. Many persons came 
 to his little cabin to seek his counsel, solicit his help, beseech 
 his prayers. He could not refuse anything that was asked of 
 him for Christ's sake, nor could the Lord Himself, so it 
 seemed, turn a deaf ear to His faithful servant's petition, 
 whatever it might be. The efficacy of his intercession justified 
 the confidence of his clients, and was oftentimes attested even 
 by miracles. 
 
 All this, however, accorded in no degree with the humble 
 hermit's estimate of himself. He began to feel unsafe, and 
 anxious to escape from his admirers; and, being now about 
 thirty years of age, he resolved to forsake his hut, and go 
 forth in search of a retreat remote, unknown, and inaccessible. 
 
 At that time the deserts of Egypt, the mountains of Syria, 
 and the hills of Palestine, were peopled by a multitude of 
 holy men, who had fled from a wicked world to follow in 
 seclusion the perfect way of the ascetic life. Though associ- 
 ated in communities, and bound to assemble at stated times 
 to hear Mass, receive the sacraments, and follow a disciplinary 
 course of instruction, each of the cenobites dwelt apart in his 
 cave or rustic cell, practising self-denial of the rudest kind, 
 pursuing laborious avocations, and praying incessantly. With- 
 drawn though they were from the temptations and dangers 
 that beset a secular life, they did not hold themselves exempt 
 from the exercise of charity towards their fellow-men. All 
 who came from the centres of population to rest awhile in 
 the desert, refresh their soul in the companionship of saintly 
 men, and strengthen their spirit under the tuition of those 
 masters of the penitential life, were kindly received at the 
 cenobium fed, sheltered, instructed, shriven, and set on a
 
 322 ''COMMONPLACE SAINTS* 
 
 better road to the heavenly country than they had hitherto 
 pursued. And as the persevering industry of those holy men 
 compelled the reluctant soil to yield a produce far in excess of 
 what was required to supply their own limited wants, they 
 found themselves in a position to succour the necessitous, and 
 even to undertake the charge of sick and infirm persons. We 
 are told that in the heart of the desert the ascetics established 
 refuges for the suffering members of Christ, asylums for 
 cripples, and hospitals for sick children. It is hardly sur- 
 prising to hear that, in course of time, paths were literally 
 worn in the once trackless waste by the feet of innumerable 
 pilgrims journeying towards the monastic settlements in search 
 of counsel, instruction, consolation, and charitable aid in every 
 variety of spiritual need and bodily ail. 
 
 But this sort of desert would not satisfy the aspirations of 
 Macarius. It did not seem enough to flee from the midst of 
 Babylon. He longed to bury himself in complete solitude 
 with God. Passing, therefore, through Egypt, he directed his 
 steps to the wilderness of Scete, stretching within the confines 
 of Lybia. Untenanted even by anchorites, this vast expanse 
 exhibited a scene of unmitigated desolation. There were no 
 roads, no landmarks of any kind. Travellers obliged to cross 
 the unfrequented plain, depended on the stars for guidance 
 in their course. Dangerous morasses, and lakes of brackish 
 water, diversified, without relieving, the dreariness of the scene 
 a scene in every respect accordant with penitential rigour 
 and merciless self-immolation. Here Macarius found the 
 awful solitude he sought; here, accordingly, he took up his 
 abode, and here he had his home during the remainder of 
 his mortal pilgrimage of ninety years. 
 
 Gradually, however, a change came over the sombre face of 
 Scete. The fatality, as perhaps he would have called it, which 
 overtook him in his younger days, still, it would appear, 
 pursued Macarius in the years of his maturity. Hid though 
 he was in the swamps, wrapped safe, as he fancied, in the still- 
 ness of the desert, his retreat and his identity were discovered; 
 people came out from the luxurious cities and smiling pastures 
 to tarry awhile for their soul's good in the neighbourhood 
 of the hermit-saint ; and many of these temporary refugees 
 from the world of sin and sorrow, yielding to the fascination 
 exercised in all unconsciousness by the man of God, and
 
 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" 323 
 
 conquered by divine grace, declined to return any more to the 
 arena of perilous distractions, declaring they must abide hence- 
 forth in the desert, and complete the course of their earthly 
 pilgrimage under the direction of the holy man of Scete. 
 Communities, as if by natural growth, formed settlements within 
 reach of the centre of attraction the hut wherein Macarius 
 dwelt ; these, again, after a while, found others grouped with- 
 out their bounds, until, in the end, it became necessary to 
 erect four churches for the religious colonists, and appoint a 
 priest to minister in each. Despite of his humility, the hermit- 
 saint was himself compelled to enter the ranks of the priest- 
 hood, and assume the direction of the cenobium. 
 
 Although hitherto unused to the task of ruling men in 
 organised associations, Macarius was singularly blessed in his 
 government of the monastic family. He was called the god of 
 the monks, so affectionate and ready was the obedience he 
 received from his spiritual sons ; while at the same time the 
 pilgrims who still sought the desert in their spiritual needs, 
 experienced the prevailing force of his exhortations, as if he 
 had been specially ordained for the succour of those whose 
 destiny it was to work out their salvation in the throng and 
 conflict of secular life. 
 
 A thoughtful writer of our own day has somewhere said, that 
 "there is no eloquence unless there is a man behind the 
 speech"; and perhaps in the same way it may be laid down, 
 that preaching can have little effect unless there is a saint 
 behind the sermon. At anyrate, it. is evident that the secret 
 of the extraordinary influence of Macarius lay in the holiness 
 and gentle charity of the man of prayer. Whether in the 
 homilies addressed to his monks, or in the instructions given 
 to the strangers who laid their hearts open before him, he 
 made use of language suited to the meanest capacity, and, 
 indeed, seemed to aim principally at simplifying the doctrines 
 and practices of the spiritual life. Thus, when urging his 
 disciples to persevere in their penitential course, he would 
 exhort them to bear their hard lot by the thought that they 
 must be crucified with the Crucified One, and that the human 
 soul, which is the bride of Christ, must suffer with the Bride- 
 groom. Or, when inculcating the duty of continual prayer, 
 he would teach them short, easy methods, saying : " We need 
 not use many or lofty words ; we can keep God in our hearts
 
 324 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" 
 
 and the Holy Ghost in our breast; and if we can do no more, 
 we can often repeat, with a sincere affection, this ejaculation of 
 perfect resignation and love O Lord have mercy on me, as 
 Thou pleasest, and knowest best in Thy goodness." 
 
 He knew how on occasions to enforce a lesson in a striking 
 and original way. For instance, when a certain young man 
 came to him for advice and assistance in overcoming his 
 spiritual enemies, he desired him go to a neighbouring burial- 
 place and revile the dead ! The young man returned when 
 he had fulfilled this strange command, and being asked how 
 the dead had received the abuse showered on them, he replied : 
 " My father, they took no notice whatever." " Go back, then," 
 rejoined the saint, "and flatter them." This also was done in 
 simple obedience ; and the dead having displayed an equal 
 insensibility, answering never a word to the proffered adulation, 
 the abbot pointed the moral with good effect. " Learn, there- 
 fore," he said, " to be moved neither by injuries nor flatteries. 
 If you die to the world and to yourself, you will begin to live 
 to Christ." 
 
 Humility, which another saint declares is the only virtue no 
 devil can imitate, and the secret of the strength by which the 
 saints have won their greatest victories, was, it need hardly be 
 added, a main characteristic of Macarius. Satan himself 
 acknowledged that the anchorite defeated all his efforts by 
 this resistless weapon. " I can surpass thee in watching, 
 fasting, and many other things," he said, "but humility 
 vanquishes and disarms me." However, this all-conquering 
 virtue had not been acquired without many a sharp encounter 
 and much long-suffering in resisting temptation. Once he was 
 so beset by the enemy of mankind with suggestions of vain- 
 glory, and so worn out in the prolonged warfare, that he 
 implored Almighty God day and night to give him a true 
 humiliation, and free him once for all from the tantalising 
 attacks of the evil spirit. Heaven heard his petition ; and he 
 received for answer a command to go to a certain city, a con- 
 siderable distance off, where there were persons living who had 
 reached a higher perfection than the hermit of the desert, and 
 who would teach him the secret of their pre-eminent virtue. 
 
 And so we can picture to ourselves the servant of God, 
 with his wan face and wasted form, taking his staff in hand 
 and turning his steps once more towards the great world of
 
 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" 325 
 
 sin and sorrow, out of which he and companies of saints had 
 fled in affright, how many a long year ago ! Across the 
 marshy plains and by the margin of the brackish lakes he 
 wended his way out into the vast yellow sands, marked here 
 and there by the slow march of a labouring caravan, or startled 
 into momentary life by the lightning passage of a train of 
 dromedaries, until at length, suddenly rising from out a sea of 
 shifting undulations, he beheld the city of his destination in its 
 oasis of verdure. 
 
 If Macarius imagined that he would have no difficulty in 
 finding the saints whom the Lord commended, if he thought 
 the city must be filled with their renown, he soon discovered 
 his mistake. The city was quite unaware of the treasure it 
 possessed. No guide appeared to conduct the pilgrim to their 
 abode. The saints themselves were personally known to few, 
 and those few, in all probability, regarded them as common- 
 place persons. To a certainty this was the opinion of the 
 pious souls themselves, who would have been the last in the 
 world to suppose it possible that anyone would travel out of 
 the desert to make their acquaintance. 
 
 In a word, the good and faithful servants to whose door the 
 Spirit of God led the anchorite, turned out to be two homely 
 married women, who for fifteen years had dwelt in the same 
 house together in perfect peace, attracting no attention, having 
 nothing remarkable in themselves or in their circumstances ; 
 but cheerfully obeying their husbands, taking the best care of 
 their children, diligently labouring in their household affairs, 
 speaking no rash or idle words, and making all around them 
 happy. 
 
 Having learned thus much, Macarius besought those simple 
 souls so dear to God to disclose to him their way of life. 
 "Oh ! my father, it is not worth the trouble," they answered. 
 But as he insisted, they told him that their endeavour was to 
 keep themselves in the presence of God while engaged in their 
 household affairs, that in a spirit of recollection they sanctified 
 their actions by ardent ejaculations, striving thereby to praise 
 God and to consecrate to the divine glory all the powers of 
 their soul and body. "That is all we can do for love of Him," 
 they added, "and it is, alas! very little." 
 
 This, then, was what Macarius came out of the desert to 
 hear. But it was enough a lesson of humble fidelity and
 
 326 "COMMONPLACE SAINTS" 
 
 constant love, a revelation of the goodness of God, who, by 
 lowly ways no less than by aspiring paths, leads the sincere 
 soul to its heavenly destination, who makes a tabernacle for 
 the children of the kingdom even in the midst of Babylon, 
 and, in recompense for the modest sacrifices of a willing 
 service and a loving heart, bestows the crown of life. 
 
 Glad that he had seen "saints greater than' Macarius," with 
 a mind enlightened and a heart consoled, the pilgrim took up 
 his staff once more and turned towards the solitudes of Scete. 
 And as he wended his way, angel-guarded and star-guided, he 
 thanked God for the souls, serene and steadfast, fulfilling their 
 appointed course, whether in the world's tumult or the desert's 
 peace, whether in the twilight of obscurity or in the noonday 
 glare of recognition, hastening on to the heaven of full beatitude, 
 where the just shall shine like stars for all eternity.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 Two or three incidental circumstances have led me to the 
 conclusion that a short article written by me on Fazio degli 
 Uberti and his poem, the Dittamondo, about two years ago, 
 attracted some attention, and set more than one of its readers 
 on a search for ampler information concerning the poet and 
 his book. Certainly, I was not myself by any means satisfied 
 with the meagre statements which contained nearly the sum- 
 total of what I had learned up to that date of Fazio, his family, 
 and his literary achievements. Since then I have had better 
 success in the field of inquiry. One thing led to another, in 
 the curious way not uncommon in pursuits of this kind, and, 
 before the exploration ended, my acquaintance with certain 
 pages of Italian literature and some chapters of Irish legendary 
 and historic lore was considerably improved. 
 
 Comparing notes may sometimes be an interesting exercise. 
 For my own part, I should greatly like to hear the result of 
 other folk's rambles on this track. In the hope of inducing 
 one or another of my unknown fellow-travellers, who may have 
 advanced farther or succeeded better than myself, to share his 
 garnered store, I will now set down in rough order the notes I 
 jotted on the way. 
 
 And first, as regards the family referred to. In the thirteenth 
 century the Uberti were of ancient standing in Florence, 
 occupying that part of the city called the quarter of Porta 
 Santa Maria, "where now stand," says Villani, "the Piazza de' 
 Priori and the Palazzo del Popolo." The most renowned of 
 the race up to that date, or indeed at any time, was Farinata 
 degli Uberti, whom Machiavelli describes as a man of exalted 
 
 327
 
 3 28 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 soul and great military talents. Moreover, he was the most 
 eloquent orator of his day. He was the foremost chief of the 
 Ghibellines, that is to say, of the aristocratic faction in the 
 republic, who paid an honorary allegiance to the emperor 
 and carried on a constant warfare against the Guelphs, or party 
 acknowledging the pope as their head, and claiming to be the 
 supporters of the Church and Liberty. In the year 1250 the 
 Guelphs acquired a complete ascendency over their opponents, 
 established a popular government in the city, and compelled 
 the neighbouring republics to espouse their cause. Meanwhile 
 the vanquished Ghibellines intrigued and conspired, but to no 
 good purpose; for in 1258 their designs were frustrated, and 
 all their chiefs expelled from Florence. 
 
 Farinata, in exile, maintained the ancient strife on another 
 stage and after a different manner. He persuaded Manfred, 
 King of the Two Sicilies, to assume the position of acknow- 
 ledged leader of the Ghibelline party, obtained from that 
 monarch a considerable body of German troops, and, placing 
 himself at their head, marched to Siena ; which city, disregard- 
 ing the treaty forced on its acceptance by the Guelphs, had 
 already welcomed the Florentine refugees within its gates. 
 These proceedings enraged the Signoria of Florence. Rein- 
 forced by their allies, the men of war marched out with their 
 carroccic or battle-car and took the road to Siena, determined 
 to draw Farinata, with his Germans and the Sienese and Pisan 
 Militia, from the city, and annihilate at one blow the forces 
 of their enemies. An encounter took place on the 4th of 
 September 1260 a few miles south of Siena, on the banks of 
 the Arbia, which stream, as readers of the Divina Commedia 
 remember, on that day ran red with blood. The standard- 
 bearer of Florence was treacherously cut down, and the army, 
 seeing the colours fall, fled on all sides, leaving ten thousand 
 dead on the field. The battle-car and the battle-bell and the 
 fallen standard were carried in triumph to Siena, and consterna- 
 tion fell on the city seated on the Arno. 
 
 Self-exiled, the chief men of the Florentine Guelphs aban- 
 doned their dwellings, and, joined by those of Prato, Pistoia, 
 Volterra, and San Geminiano, took refuge in Lucca ; while the 
 victorious Ghibellines, reinstated in their ancient supremacy, 
 abolished the popular government, and set up an aristocratic 
 regime in its stead.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 329 
 
 At a diet of the Ghibellines held soon after at Empoli, the 
 representatives of Siena and Pisa proposed, as a means of 
 securing the advantages already acquired, that the walls of 
 Florence should be razed to the ground and the inhabitants 
 dispersed among the neighbouring towns, urging that the 
 populace were ingrained democrats, that no safety could 
 exist for the Imperialists while the Guelph city stood within its 
 ramparts, and so working on the passions of the assembled 
 deputies that the merciless counsel was on the point of being 
 adopted. But Farinata, fired with indignation and pouring out 
 a torrent of patriotic eloquence, silenced the proposers of so 
 ungenerous a policy. Better would it have been to die on the 
 Arbia than live to listen to such a discussion. He loved his 
 country better than his party, and as long as he had life to 
 wield a sword even though he should stand alone among the 
 Florentines his native city would never be destroyed. He 
 would, with those companions whose bravery they had 
 witnessed at the battle of Arbia, join the Guelphs and fight 
 for them sooner than to consent to the ruin of what was 
 most dear to him in the world. Even if it were necessary to 
 die a thousand deaths, he was ready to meet them all in the 
 defence of Florence ! " Farinata then rose and, with angry 
 gestures, quitted the assembly ; but left such an impression on 
 the mind of his audience that the project was instantly dropped, 
 and the only question for the moment was, how to regain a 
 chief of such talent and influence." l 
 
 The Ghibellines were still supreme in Florence when 
 Farinata died. Two years later, however, in 1266, their royal 
 chief, Manfred, King of the Two Sicilies, was defeated and 
 slain in the battle of Benevento by Charles of Anjou, the 
 brother of St. Louis, to whom the championship of the Guelph 
 party had been committed by the pope. Immediately the 
 German garrison was driven out of Florence, the nobles and 
 Ghibellines were excluded from any share in the government 
 of the republic, and a decree of perpetual banishment was 
 fulminated against the Uberti and their descendants. 2 
 
 1 Napier's Florentine History, vol. i. 
 
 2 "In every amnesty their names were excepted. The site on which 
 their house had stood was never again to be built upon, and remains the 
 great square of Florence ; the architect of the Palace of the People was 
 obliged to sacrifice its symmetry, and to place it awry, that its walls might 
 not encroach on the accursed ground." Dean Church, Dante: an Essay,
 
 330 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 Not alone on the page of history does the magnanimous 
 Farinata appear as a striking figure. The victor on the Arbia, 
 and the saviour of the city of his birth and love, reappears on 
 another stage, sadly immortalised by the great poet of his 
 nation. Dante encounters the Ghibelline chief in the city of 
 Dis, and the meeting of these citizens of the republic is the 
 subject of a never-to-be-forgotten passage in Canto x. of the 
 Infernal 
 
 Traversing with Virgil the fourth circle of hell, Dante is 
 recognised by a fellow-countryman, Ciacco by name. While 
 holding discourse together on the affairs of their native city, 
 Dante, longing to know what has become of Farinata, 
 Pegghiaio, and the rest " who bent their minds on working 
 good," conjures Ciacco to throw some light on the matter 
 
 li Oh ! tell me where 
 
 They bide, and to their knowledge let me come, 
 For I am prest with keen desire to hear 
 If heaven's sweet cup, or poisonous drug of hell, 
 Be to their lip assigned." 
 
 Ciacco removes all doubt when he replies 
 
 "These are yet blacker spirits. Various crimes 
 Have sunk them deeper in the dark abyss. 
 If thou so far descendest, thou mayst see them." 
 
 Pursuing their course along the fearful track, the poets draw- 
 nigh unto " the city that of Dis is named, with its grave denizens, 
 a mighty throng." Framed of iron the walls seem to be ; the 
 minarets gleam vermilion under the action of the eternal fire 
 raging through the valley ; upon the gates as sentinels stand 
 more than a thousand of the spirits " who of old from heaven 
 were shower'd." Not without difficulty are the visitants 
 admitted. Within is a vast plain, " thick-set with sepulchres " 
 glowing like red-hot iron in the midst of scattered flames. 
 
 1 Dante was born in 1265, the year after Farinata's death, and the same 
 year in which the Guelphs regained their ascendency on the defeat and 
 death of Manfred. His family were of the same party, and when about 
 twenty-four years of age he fought at the battle of Campaldino the 
 Uberti and other exiled Florentines being in the opposite ranks. Many 
 years had not passed away when Dante himself became the victim of a 
 faction in "the divided city." The sentence passed on him was exile, 
 with the penalty of being burned alive should he return to Florence.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 331 
 
 None keep watch over these fiery vaults, above which hang 
 suspended the lids not to be closed until the entombed 
 shades shall return from Josophat, bringing the bodies which 
 they left behind on earth. Dolorous sighs and lamentable 
 moans, " such as the sad and tortured well might raise," issue 
 out of the sepulchres, wherein arch-heretics and "every sect 
 their followers" lie buried, together with Epicurus and his 
 disciples, " who with the body make the soul to die." Dante 
 wonders whether he may see and speak with the occupants of 
 these tombs. While he addresses himself to his guide, the 
 Tuscan accent catches the ear of one of the unhappy dead, 
 and suddenly from out the depths a voice proceeds - 
 
 "O Tuscan ! thou, who through the city of fire 
 Alive art passing, so discreet of speech : 
 Here, please thee, stay awhile. Thy utterance 
 Declares the place of thy nativity 
 To be that noble land with which perchance 
 I too severely dealt." 
 
 Dante, thus adjured, presses closer to his guide in dread. 
 But Virgil reassures him. " Lo ! Farinata there," he says, 
 thrusting him to the tomb's foot, and bidding him let his 
 words be clear. Raising himself from the girdle upwards, 
 and erecting his breast and forehead even as if hell itself he 
 held in scorn, the Ghibelline leader eyes the stranger from the 
 upper world, and in disdainful mood inquires who were his 
 ancestors. Then follows a long dialogue, in which Farinata 
 alludes to the fierce hostility of these ancestors to himself, his 
 family, and his party, and reminds their representative that 
 twice he drove them out of Florence ; while Dante rejoins, 
 observing that although his progenitors were expelled from 
 the city on more than one occasion, they nevertheless each 
 time returned from all parts, displaying thus an art which 
 the Uberti " have shown they are not skilled to learn." This 
 allusion to the doom of exile, incurred by his noble race, 
 strikes Farinata to the heart 
 
 "'And if,' continuing the first discourse, 
 ' They in this art,' he cried, ' small skill have shown ; 
 That doth torment me more e'en than this bed.'" 
 
 He warns Dante that he too shall learn, ere long, how
 
 332 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 difficult is that art of returning from banishment, and bids 
 him say why it is that in all its laws this people is so pitiless 
 towards the Uberti. The poet answers that the reason is to 
 be found in "the slaughter and great havoc that coloured 
 Arbia's flood with crimson stain." 
 
 " Sighing, he shook 
 
 The head, then thus resumed : ' In that affray 
 I stood not singly, nor without just cause, 
 Assuredly, should with the rest have stirr'd ; 
 But singly there I stood, when, by consent 
 Of all, Florence had to the ground been razed, 
 The one who openly forbade the deed.'" 1 
 
 Dante, lately so reluctant to approach, now lingers, hoping 
 to learn more from the renowned chief. But Virgil calls him 
 away, not, however, until he has learned that more than a 
 thousand lie with Farinata in that one sepulchre. Two the 
 latter names " of the rest I speak not." 
 
 Not as a Ghibelline, be it observed, was this place of 
 punishment assigned to Farinata. Guelphs were under the 
 same doom as well : for even while the dead Imperialist and 
 the living poet were discoursing, Cavalcante, a distinguished 
 member of the popular party, rose from among the suffering 
 throng to ask some news of his son, Dante's beloved Guido. 
 No ; not for political views was Farinata thus condemned, 
 but for holding, with Epicurus, that the soul dies with the body, 
 and that human happiness consists in temporal pleasures. 2 
 
 Those who know anything of Italian poetry must remember 
 a sonnet by Dante, beginning with this line 
 
 " Guido, vorrei che tu e Lapo ed io." 
 
 The Guido here named was Dante's friend, the son of the 
 Cavalcante mentioned above. During a short interval of 
 
 1 "The great Ghibelline had lain thirty-six years in his sepulchre of 
 flame. Yet the mere footfall of a Florentine, and the sight of the familiar 
 habit, stir him to the interests of the upper world. . . . Perhaps no other 
 poet than Dante would have dared to paint a spirit triumphing in the 
 potency of factious pride over hell and the torments of ' this bed.' " J. A. 
 Symonds, An Introduction to the Study of Dante. 
 
 2 See the long and interesting notes to Longfellow's translation of the 
 Divina Commedia. I have followed in the text Gary's rendering of 
 Dante's verse.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 333 
 
 reconciliation between the rival factions, some intermarriages 
 of Guelphs and Ghibellines took place. On that occasion 
 Guido Cavalcante was united to a daughter of Farinata degli 
 Uberti. The Lapo named in the sonnet is in all probability 
 Jacopo, commonly called Lapo, the son of Farinata. He was 
 a poet of no mean repute, and highly esteemed by Dante. 
 Fazio, or Bonifazio, the author of the Dittamondo, was the 
 son of Lapo, and consequently the inheritor of an illustrious 
 name, and the inheritor, also, of the exile's doom. 
 
 No one appears to have thought it worth while to note 
 where Fazio degli Uberti was born. Filipo Villani speaks of 
 him as a countryman and contemporary of his own, alludes to 
 his gay and pleasant disposition, and adds, that the only fault 
 he discovered in him was a disposition to frequent the Court of 
 tyrants, and laud their life and ways. This implied reproach 
 of singing the praises of princes probably meant nothing more 
 than that the historian's politics were not of the same colour 
 as those of Fazio, and that the latter adhered to the traditions 
 of his family, preferring the society of the nobles to the 
 company of the popolani. This exclusive association with 
 men of rank is noticed by another Italian writer of the same 
 period as a praiseworthy characteristic of the expatriated 
 family. They had been, when he wrote (in Dante's time), 
 " more than forty years outlaws from their country, nor ever 
 found mercy nor pity, remaining always abroad in great state, 
 nor ever abased their honour, seeing that they ever abode 
 with kings and lords, and to great things applied themselves." l 
 
 Fazio's choice of great things appears to have been the 
 pursuit of learning and the cultivation of poetry, and in these 
 conjointly he distinguished himself not a little. Villani says 
 that he was the first to compose in the style of the canzone, 
 and that he used that form with great ability and discretion ; 
 adding that in his old age, following better counsel, he ceased 
 to compose in Latin, and, imitating Dante, wrote a book in 
 the vulgar tongue very graceful and pleasing, giving an account 
 of the situation and history of the different parts of the world, 
 including in the work a great deal of matter coming within the 
 scope of cosmography, and much besides well worthy of being 
 read on account of the elegance of the language. Moreover, 
 it is excellent in this, too, that owing to the succinctness of 
 1 Dino Compagni, quoted by Dean Church.
 
 334 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 the style, the verses can easily be committed to memory. 
 And as Dante, in his wanderings through the regions beyond 
 the grave, took Virgil for his leader, so Fazio, when he set out 
 to visit the different nations of the earth, made choice of 
 Solinus as his guide. 1 
 
 Of Fazio's life there is very little known. Tiraboschi 
 remarks that in one of his canzone the poet bitterly and 
 despairingly complains of the straits to which poverty had 
 reduced him, without, however, mentioning any particular 
 circumstance. Some writers assert that he was solemnly 
 crowned in Florence, but no proof is adduced ; and certainly 
 this does not seem likely to have happened, adds Tiraboschi, 
 in a city where he had no permanent abode. Where he wrote 
 his celebrated work, the Dittamondo, has not been ascertained, 
 nor the precise period during which he was engaged in its 
 composition. " Probably he began his poem about the middle 
 of the fourteenth century, and was still at work on it in the 
 year 1367, and it seems likely that he may have died soon 
 after that date, leaving his task unfinished. One thing, 
 however, is certain, namely, that he was one of the best poets 
 of his age, especially in strength and energy of style." 2 
 
 Dante Gabriel Rossetti supplies us with some corrections, 
 and a few additional particulars of an interesting kind. 
 Evidently he does not think it likely that Fazio suffered 
 grievously from poverty. The high reputation enjoyed by 
 the poet makes it probable that he did receive the laurel 
 crown, as stated by various early writers, though it is not 
 mentioned in what city that honour was conferred on him. 
 Mr. Rossetti observes that there is much beauty in several of 
 Fazio's lyrical poems. One of the canzone he particularly 
 admires, and transfuses into English. It is the " portrait " of 
 a lady of Verona, named Angiola, to whom the poet was 
 attached ; and as a love-song, the translator thinks it is not 
 perhaps surpassed by any poem of its class in existence. " Its 
 excellence is such," continues Mr. Rossetti, " as to have pro- 
 cured it the high honour of being attributed to Dante, so that 
 it is to be found among most of the editions of the Canzoniere ; 
 and as far as poetic beauty is concerned, it must be allowed 
 to hold even there an eminent place." Having remarked that 
 
 1 Villani, Vile cleg? ilhtstri Florfntini. 
 
 - Tiraboschi, Storia della Letteratura Italiana.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 335 
 
 Fazio, an exile by inheritance, seems to have acquired restless 
 tastes ; that he travelled over a great part of Europe in the 
 latter years of his life, and composed in his old age the 
 poem entitled // Dittamondo, the "Song of the World," or 
 " Words of the World," the commentator thus enlarges on the 
 theme : " This work, though by no means contemptible in 
 point of execution, certainly falls far short of its conception, 
 which is a grand one, the topics of which it treats in great 
 measure geography and natural history rendering it in those 
 days the native home of all credulities and monstrosities. In 
 scheme it was intended as an earthly parallel to Dante's 
 sacred poem, doing for this world what he did for the other. 
 At Fazio's death it remained unfinished, but I should think 
 by very little, the plan of the work seeming in the main 
 accomplished. The whole earth (or rather all that was then 
 known of it) is traversed, its surface and its history, ending 
 with the Holy Land, and thus bringing man's world as near 
 as may be to God's ; that is, to the point where Dante's office 
 begins. No conception could well be nobler, or worthier 
 even now of being dealt with by a great master. To the work 
 of such a man, Fazio's work might afford such first materials 
 as have usually been furnished beforehand to the greater poets 
 by some unconscious steward." 1 
 
 That Fazio visited the land of his ancestors, and even 
 sojourned for a brief space in the city so beloved by her 
 sons, can hardly be doubted after a careful perusal of the 
 pages of the Dittamondo, in which Florence is described. 
 The sketch is the work of an admiring eye and a loving 
 hand, and the exile's heart beats proudly at the sight of the 
 noble monuments and lovely surroundings of the city-republic. 
 He found by experience how inextinguishable the love of 
 country is, for neither eye nor heart grew weary in gazing at 
 the scenes spread out before him 
 
 " Quivi provai com' e grande 1'amore 
 Delia patria, perocche di vederla 
 Saztar non ne potea gli occhi ne il cuore." 
 
 Most of all, the Baptistry delighted him with its incom- 
 parable intaglios and marbles; and he observes that when 
 the campanile shall have been finished, course after course, 
 1 D. G. Rossetti, Early Italian Poets (Introduction).
 
 336 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 as it was begun, nothing in all the world will surpass 
 its beauty. Then the clear waters and the pure air, the 
 charming women and the men who know so well on all 
 occasions what to say and do, receive the tribute of the 
 exile's praise. Swiftly sped the days he lingered in that 
 pearl of cities ; and as he passed out of the gates, with 
 bowed head and downcast eyes, he felt that he had left his 
 heart and his best self behind, and sadly questioned whether 
 his eyes should ever again be gladdened with the fair vision 
 of which he now took a tearful farewell 
 
 " Ahi lasso ! 
 
 Ritornero piii mai a rividere 
 Quest caro terren, che ora passo?" 
 
 A passage in another part of the poem leaves no doubt 
 that the citizens of Florence pursued their animosity towards 
 the Uberti from son to son, even to the fourth generation. 
 Yet we do not find that a member of the family durst not set 
 foot within the walls under any circumstances whatsoever 
 the penalty of being burned alive was not imposed, as in the 
 case of Dante. The visit of one of the race to Florence is 
 recorded by Dino Compagni. The Uberti were loved as 
 they were hated, he says ; and as an instance he mentions 
 that when, under the protection of a cardinal, one of them 
 visited the city, and the checkered blue and gold blazon of 
 their house was, after an interval of half a century, again seen 
 in the streets of Florence, many ancient Ghibelline men and 
 women pressed to kiss the arms, and even the common people 
 did him honour. 1 
 
 Fazio married ; but whether the Lady Angiola of Verona, 
 immortalised in the canzone translated by Mr. Rossetti, 
 became his wife, no one appears to know. It is certain, 
 however, that the last years of his long life were spent in 
 Verona, that he died there, and was buried in that city. A 
 son of his, Leopardo by name, after his father's death settled 
 in Venice, where " his descendants maintained an honourable 
 rank for the space of two succeeding generations." 2 
 
 Eminently calculated as the Dittamondo undoubtedly was 
 to instruct and interest the author's contemporaries and the 
 
 1 See Dean Church's Essay on Dante. 
 - D. G. Rossetti, Early Italian Poets.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 337 
 
 next succeeding generations, the book, nevertheless, did not 
 get a chance of accomplishing so great a good. Safe, but 
 inaccessible withal, as far as the multitude were concerned, 
 this, the earliest didactic poem in the Italian language, lay in 
 manuscript for a hundred years in the libraries of the learned 
 and the wealthy. However, soon after the invention of 
 printing, a folio edition was published at Vicenza (1474), but 
 with such a multiplicity of errors as to render the perusal of 
 the book a laborious and intolerable task. Venice produced 
 a quarto edition in 1501, this also being disfigured with 
 innumerable mistakes. These were the only editions of the 
 Dittamondo given to the world between the fifteenth and the 
 nineteenth centuries. Ranking among the testi di lingua, 
 and highly esteemed by the Academia della Crusca for the 
 purity of its style, the Dittamondo has had the honour of 
 being quoted more than eight hundred times in the famous 
 Vocabularia. As a proof of the richness of its historical 
 matter, and its usefulness in illustrating Dante, it may be 
 noted that the poem is many times quoted, and still more 
 frequently referred to, in the notes to Gary's translation of the 
 Divina Commedia. 
 
 In a famous bibliographical work, Serie del Testi di Lingua, 
 published in Venice, 1839, the author, Bartolomeo da 
 Bassano, gives, under the heading of " Fazio degli Uberti," a 
 minute description of the early editions of the Dittamondo. 
 He styles the folio edition rarissimo, and mentions the sales 
 at which copies were purchased. A story is told at the same 
 time of an English gentleman who ordered a copy belonging 
 to M. Floncel to be purchased for him, without, however, 
 stating the price he was willing to pay. The bidding went 
 up to eight hundred francs, and the lot was knocked down to 
 the Englishman ; but so provoked was he at having to pay so 
 exorbitant a sum for his bargain, that as soon as he got the 
 book into his hands he flung it into the fire. 
 
 The author cites a high authority in confirmation of the 
 opinion that the two early editions are incorrect to an extra- 
 ordinary degree ; that, in fact, nothing could possibly be more 
 disfigured or outlandish. 
 
 Lord Charlemont, the patriot-earl, spent, it will be remem- 
 bered, several years of his early manhood in Italy, devoting 
 himself to elegant pursuits, and cultivating assiduously the
 
 338 THE D1TTAMONDO 
 
 study of the language and literature of the country. In all 
 probability it was at that time he became acquainted with the 
 poems of Fazio degli Uberti, and obtained a copy of the 
 Dittamondo. The passage which would seem to have most 
 of all attracted his attention was the one containing a com- 
 plimentary allusion to the woollen products of Ireland 
 imported into Florence in the poet's day, that is to say, in 
 the fourteenth century. On the foundation of the Royal Irish 
 Academy, in 1786, Lord Charlemont was elected president. 
 At one of the earliest meetings of that body, a paper on the 
 " Antiquity of the Woollen Manufacture in Ireland," written 
 by his lordship, was read ; and in the first volume of the 
 Transactions this essay was printed. The noble author 
 adduces several instances in proof of the estimation in which 
 Irish cloths were held at home and abroad many hundred 
 years ago, and gives full weight to Fazio's testimony. A short 
 notice of the poet and his book is very properly introduced, 
 but no passages are quoted from the Dittamondo, except the 
 one declaring Ireland worthy of renown on account of "the 
 beautiful serges she sends us," and another dwelling on the 
 perils attending the navigation of the Irish Sea. Lord 
 Charlemont does not appear to have any doubt concerning 
 Fazio's visit to Ireland. He remarks that the poet expressly 
 says he had seen in Ireland " certain lakes of various 
 natures." Furthermore, the writer of the essay is careful to 
 state that the copy from which he quotes is of the very rare 
 edition of I474- 1 
 
 1 The Charlemont Library was sold in 1865, some of the rare hooks 
 and manuscripts bringing very high prices, as may be seen on reference 
 to the Athemzum, August 19, of the same year. The following is a 
 description of the copy above mentioned, taken from the catalogue 
 prepared by Messrs. Sotheby & Co : " UBERTI (Fazio degli) DlTTA 
 MUNDI (in terza rima), first edition, excessively rare, very large copy, 
 with the signatures (generally cut off) Vicenza, Leonardo da Basilia, 1474. 
 This is probably the rarest of all the Italian poems, and may be regarded 
 as a most interesting autobiography of the poet, who gives therein details 
 of his various travels. Like Dante, he not only gives the geography, 
 but also the history of his own time. This poem, from internal evidence, 
 is supposed to have been written about the year 1350, and contains a 
 description of the British Empire, in which will be found mentioned a 
 most remarkable fact, that Ireland was then already famous for her woollen 
 manufactures. (See Lord Charlemont's MS. notes.) Quadrino, Tir.i- 
 boschi, and Gamba agree in styling this edition 'rarissima,' a fact fully 
 borne out by a copy at Floncel's sale producing 800 francs."
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 339 
 
 On reading Lord Charlemont's paper, the indication of an 
 exportation of Irish serges to the South of Europe in the 
 fourteenth century was what particularly interested me at the 
 moment in the account of the Dittamondo. However, the 
 incidental mention of the "lakes of various natures" awakened 
 my attention in no small degree, and I resolved to pursue 
 inquiry in a new direction as soon as opportunity might serve 
 for doing so. 
 
 As already said, I was much struck by the assertion that 
 Fazio degli Uberti, in his travels in Ireland, "saw certain lakes 
 of various natures." Assuredly, thought I, if the Florentine 
 poet beheld any of the inland waters of Hibernia's isle, his 
 eyes must have rested on 
 
 " That dim lake 
 
 Where sinful souls their farewell take 
 Of this vain world, and half-way lie 
 In Death's cold shadow, ere they die." 
 
 No traveller could pass through Ireland in those days 
 without hearing such an account of Lough Derg as would 
 make him deem all his labours worthless unless he should 
 reach its mystic shore. Still less would it have been possible 
 for a man of letters, especially an Italian litterateur, to be 
 ignorant of a legend and unacquainted with a pilgrimage so 
 renowned throughout Europe. Greater lakes no doubt there 
 were, and lovelier sheets of water mirroring the Irish sky ; but 
 where in all the world was there a lake to compare in romantic 
 and religious associations with that hid in the wilds of Tyr- 
 connel, and bearing on its bosom the rocky isle and its 
 wondrous cave, "where penitential man his soul in life may 
 save. " 
 
 Not one of the pious legendary beliefs (to quote a writer 
 who has made this subject his special study) which attained a 
 universal popularity among the people of Christendom, was 
 ever so popular or so fearfully interesting as the legend of the 
 Purgatory of Ireland's patron saint. "The Purgatory of St. 
 Patrick," he continues, " was the grand mediaeval wonder and 
 glory of the Christian world. Though Ireland had the fame 
 of possessing such a place, the renown was not merely local 
 all Christendom were partakers in it as well. The renown of 
 St Patrick's Purgatory resembled that acquired by a famous
 
 340 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 battlefield, on which the combined nations of Europe had 
 fought and conquered ; for each nation could speak of it with 
 pride and exultation, each having furnished heroes for the 
 adventure that perilous adventure surpassing mere mortal 
 strife, in which men encountered demons in the dread realms 
 of the infernal regions. Whatever Ireland may have been 
 famous for at any period of her history, there can be no doubt 
 that it never was so famous for anything as it was at one time 
 for St. Patrick's Purgatory." 1 
 
 Now, the story of the penitential cave had its origin in the 
 early days of Christianity in Ireland ; and, like the equally 
 fascinating Celtic legends of the visions of Tundale, St. Fursey's 
 journey through the regions beyond the grave, and the voyage 
 of St. Brendan, were known on the Continent wherever Irish 
 missioners wandered or Irish schoolmen taught. 2 
 
 In the twelfth century the fame of St. Patrick's Purgatory 
 received an extraordinary extension. Henry, a monk in the 
 monastery of Saltry, in Huntingdonshire, fused the current 
 legends into a consecutive narrative cast in Latin prose ; and, 
 in describing vividly and circumstantially the experiences of 
 the knight Owen Miles, his vision of Hell, his passage through 
 Purgatory, and his visit to the terrestrial Paradise, produced 
 a pious romance and a tale of adventure than which nothing 
 could have better fallen in with the religious enthusiasm and 
 chivalric disposition of the age in which he lived. The work 
 of the monk of Saltry was popularised by translation into the 
 vulgar tongues. One English and three French metrical 
 versions soon appeared ; the Anglo-Norman poetess, Marie de 
 France, the Sappho of her age, relating the story in a poem of 
 three thousand verses. 
 
 And, as if nothing were to be left undone to spread the 
 fascinating history into every corner of Christendom, religious 
 writers accorded to it a prominent place in their works, and 
 thus gave it a currency which no other mode of publication 
 could have so effectually secured. Caesarius of Heisterbach 
 
 1 Ulster Journal of Archeology, vols. iv., v., to which Mr. William 
 Pinkerton contributed articles of rare interest on the subject of St. Patrick's 
 Purgatory. 
 
 2 "La tradition du Purgatoire de saint Patrice se ratache aux premiers 
 souvenirs du christianisme chez les Irlandais : la vision de Tundale, celle 
 de saint Brendan, leur appartiennent aussi." F. Ozanam, Les Sources 
 Poetiqnes de Dante.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 341 
 
 directed attention in a very marked way to the mysterious 
 island in Lough Derg, by recommending anyone who might 
 have a misgiving as to the existence of Purgatory to go to Ire- 
 land and enter the cave of St. Patrick, where his doubts would 
 be expelled. 1 Jacobus de Voragine, whose Golden Legend is 
 said to have been more frequently transcribed than any book 
 except the Bible, did still more by relating, in the fiftieth 
 chapter of his work, the experiences in the world of shades of 
 a pilgrim to the island in Lough Derg. 2 
 
 Historians in their turn found it necessary not to pass over 
 the Purgatory of St. Patrick in whatever account they gave of 
 Ireland. Giraldus Cambrensis, in the twelfth century, mentions, 
 though in a garbled sort of way, the mysterious occurrences 
 which made an island, or, as he says, islands, in a certain lake 
 in Ulster terrible and glorious. Matthew Paris, in the suc- 
 ceeding century, relates the progress of a pilgrim through the 
 purgatorial scenes, and penitential pains to which a voluntary 
 imprisonment in the cave was the introduction. And in the 
 fourteenth century, Froissart gives the story of the pilgrimage a 
 prominent place in his Chronicles. 
 
 St. Patrick's Purgatory is introduced with great effect by a 
 Florentine writer of the same age in the famous and popular 
 romance of Guerrino il Meschino. The hero of the tale, one 
 of Charlemagne's knights, after going through extraordinary 
 adventures in different parts of the world, is sent by the pope 
 to do penance for his sins in St. Patrick's cave. There he 
 undergoes still more wonderful experiences in the land of 
 shades, and is permitted to advance as far as the threshold 
 of the terrestrial Paradise, where he catches a glimpse of 
 "the Emperor of heaven," surrounded by the full choir of 
 angels. 
 
 Thus, wherever poetry was recited, or chronicles were per- 
 used, or sacred legends meditated, the story connected with 
 that "insignificant islet in a dreary lake" was familiar as a 
 
 1 Qesarius of Heisterbach was a German religious of the Order of 
 Citeaux. He became a monk in 1198, in the valley of St. Peter, other- 
 wise called Heisterbach, near the town of Bonn, in the diocese of Cologne, 
 and did not die till nearly forty years afterwards. He wrote lives of 
 Saints." D. F. MacCarthy, Notes to his translation of Calderon's 
 Dramas. 
 
 2 Jacobus de Voragine, Provincial of the Dominicans and Bishop of 
 Genoa, was born about the year 1230.
 
 342 THE D1TTAMONDO 
 
 household word. It was an enthralling tale to gentle and 
 simple alike. However, the piety and romance of those days 
 were not satisfied to be fed exclusively on charming recitals 
 and quiescent musings. The spirit of the age impelled to 
 action. A pilgrimage to St. Patrick's Purgatory came to be 
 regarded as an undertaking worthy of the ambition of the most 
 valiant knight, a penitential ordeal creditable to the piety of 
 the austerest devotee. Sin-laden mortals wended their way 
 from distant lands to lay down their burden in the hallowed 
 isle ; gallant knights, with their warlike retinue, broke on the 
 solitude of wood and hill with tramp of hoof and bugle-call ; 
 lowlier palmers wore a path along Tyrconnel's wilds; the 
 cowled monk toiled towards the lake with the accoutred 
 soldier and the wool-clad rustic. 
 
 There can be little doubt that at a very early period after 
 the first promulgation of the legend, many devout and adven- 
 turous foreigners adopted the advice of Caesar of Heisterbach, 1 
 and took their way to Lough Derg to perform the purgatorial 
 exercises approved by the guardians of the sanctuary. Remote 
 as was the island of Hibernia in fact, and still more in idea, 
 from the centres of European life, it was by no means inac- 
 cessible. French and Italian traders frequented its ports, and 
 it is not improbable that oftentimes on board the merchant 
 sail the pilgrims sped to Erin. Documentary evidence, how- 
 ever, cannot be cited in proof of the landing of these penitential 
 visitants previous to the fourteenth century, the age of Fazio 
 degli Uberti ; but at that period, and thenceforth, such testi- 
 mony is not wanting. About the middle of the century the 
 arrival of a very distinguished pilgrim -prince from Italy is 
 chronicled. The event is thus narrated in Mr. Gilbert's History 
 cf the Viceroys of Ireland ; 
 
 "Among the archives of England are enrolled certificates, 
 issued by Edward in. during the viceroyalty of St. Amand, 
 declaring that Malatesta Ungaro of Rimini, and Nicolo de 
 Beccaria of Ferrara, had performed pilgrimages to the famous 
 Purgatory of St. Patrick, Lough Derg. Ungaro, Lord of 
 Rimini, Fano, Pesano, and Fossombrone, was renowned in 
 Italy for his warlike enterprises, his knowledge and piety. 
 ' Whereas,' wrote the King of England, ' Malatesta Ungaro, of 
 Rimini, a nobleman and knight, hath presented himself before 
 1 Ulster Journal of Archeology, vol. iv.
 
 THE D1TTAMONDO 343 
 
 us, and declared that, travelling from his own country, he had, 
 with many bodily toils, visited the Purgatory of St. Patrick, in 
 our land of Ireland, and for the space of a day and a night, as 
 is the custom, remained therein enclosed, and now earnestly 
 beseeches us that, for the confirmation of the truth thereof, we 
 should grant him our royal letters : we, therefore, considering 
 the dangers and perils of his pilgrimage, and although the 
 assertion of such a noble might on this suffice, yet we are 
 further certified thereof by letters from our trusty and beloved 
 Almaric de St. Amand, knight, justiciary of Ireland, and from 
 the prior and convent of the said Purgatory, and others of 
 great credit, as also by clear evidence, that the said nobleman 
 had duly and courageously performed his pilgrimage ; we have 
 consequently thought worthy to give favourably unto him our 
 royal authority concerning the same, to the end there may be 
 no doubt made of the premised ; and that the truth may more 
 clearly appear, we have deemed proper to grant unto him these 
 our letters, under our royal seal.'" 1 
 
 In the Ulster Journal of Archeology, and in Lough JDerg 
 and its Pilgrimages,- we read of other strangers arriving from 
 different parts of Europe about this time, with the object of 
 visiting the famous shrine of penance in the north of Ireland. 
 I pass on, however, to a somewhat later date in the century, in 
 order to give at greater length an idea of the difficulties and 
 dangers which valorous travellers had to encounter betimes on 
 the expedition. The visit referred to is mentioned in all the 
 accounts of the Lough Derg pilgrimage, notably in Mr. Wright's 
 important work. However, I prefer availing myself once more 
 
 1 Dr. Gilbert gives in a note (p. 543) a passage from Muratori's Annals of 
 Italy, in which the last illness of the aged Malatesta, Lord of Rimini [A.D. 
 1364], is referred to, and a high testimony borne to the piety and good 
 works by which such edification was given in his latter days. 
 
 The certificate given above is inscribed on the patent rolls in the Tower 
 of London, under the year 1358. 
 
 2 The author of this interesting monograph, the Rev. Daniel O'Connor, 
 has collected an immense amount of information and traced the history of 
 the pilgrimage from early times to our own day. This book will be found 
 invaluable to those who desire to master the subject, and should be read 
 in the same course with Mr. Wright's St. Patrick ' s Purgatory, and Mr. 
 Pinkerton's papers in the Ulster Journal of Archaology. Readers of the 
 Irish Monthly retain, no doubt, a very agreeable recollection of the Rev. 
 John Healy's article on Lough Derg, which appeared in volume vi. of the 
 Magazine (1878).
 
 344 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 of Mr. Gilbert's labours, and take the following narrative from 
 his History of the Viceroys. 
 
 In the reign of Richard n., the Viceroy De Mortimer was 
 waited on in Dublin by Ramon, Viscount de Perellos, Senor 
 de la Baronia de Seret, Knight of Rhodes, and chamberlain to 
 King Richard's father-in-law, Charles vi. of France. "This 
 nobleman," continues the author, "arrived with letters from 
 the King of England for safe conduct to visit the Purgatory of 
 St. Patrick, with a retinue of twenty men and thirty horses. 
 Ramon had been in the army of Charles v. of France, 
 became Master of the Horse to Juan of Aragon, where his 
 estates lay, and that king gave him command of three galleys 
 which he sent to aid Clement vn. After the death of 
 Clement, Ramon served Benedict VIH., until he determined, 
 notwithstanding the papal dissuasion, to visit St. Patrick's 
 Purgatory in Ireland, where he expected to learn intelligence 
 of the fate of the soul of his beloved King Juan. He tells us 
 that at Dublin he visited the Earl of March, King Richard's 
 cousin, and Viceroy of Ireland, who, having perused the royal 
 letters, received him very honourably ; but endeavoured, with 
 all his power, to dissuade him from persevering in an under- 
 taking which he declared to be of the most perilous nature. 
 As Ramon was not deterred by these representations, the 
 viceroy despatched him to Drogheda, with letters to John de 
 Colton, who, having distinguished himself in the service of 
 England, had been promoted from the Deanery of St. Patrick's 
 at Dublin to the Archbishopric of Armagh. De Colton also 
 endeavoured to deter him from venturing into the territories 
 of the northern Irish, who had made serious inroads upon the 
 See lands of the English Archbishops of Armagh. Ramon, 
 persevering in his resolution, passed safely, as a pilgrim, into 
 Donegal, where, with many others on the same mission, he 
 was, he records, loaded with gifts and escorted safely to his 
 destination by the native chiefs, whose ancestors, according 
 to their legends, had come to Erin from his native land of 
 Spain." 
 
 As an example of the attraction to St. Patrick's Purgatory 
 experienced by a class very different from that of princes, 
 knights, and soldiers, I must cite an instance of a Carthusian 
 monk's temptation to pass the cloistral bounds and make his 
 way to the cave in Ireland. It would appear that a certain
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 345 
 
 Don John, of the Certosa at Rome, conceived an extraordinary 
 desire to perform this pilgrimage, and, not obtaining the 
 sanction of his superiors for the undertaking, fell into a state 
 of despondency. The visitor informed St. Catherine of Siena, 
 who had many friends and correspondents among the Carthu- 
 sians, of this occurrence, and probably asked the holy woman 
 to give Don John some prudent counsel calculated to restore 
 his peace of mind. Anyhow, the saint wrote the troubled 
 monk a long letter, in which the virtue of obedience and the 
 practice of patience are insisted on, pious fancies rated at a 
 low figure in comparison with a just notion of things, and the 
 would-be pilgrim made to understand by implication that he 
 need not proceed to a cave in Ireland seeking that divine 
 grace which he is more certain to find in the cloister and in 
 the study of himself. " My dear son," says the saint in con- 
 clusion, "bow down your head in holy obedience, and 
 remain in your cell embracing the tree of the most holy cross. 
 Take good care (as you value the life of your soul and fear 
 to displease Almighty God) that you do not follow your own 
 will." J 
 
 From the various instances given above, it is easy to 
 conclude that Ireland and her wondrous Purgatory were 
 well known and much spoken of in Italy during the four- 
 teenth century. The influence of Celtic legend and romance 
 on the literati and poets of the south of Europe might likewise 
 be divined from the same facts. However, in this connection 
 still more striking proofs are at hand. The study of Dante 
 and his immortal work by diligent and reverential commen- 
 tators, has brought out in extraordinary relief the fact of the 
 universal diffusion of the legends of which Erin was the 
 nursing mother, and has revealed to the world of to-day the 
 wealth and brilliance of that Celtic vein of romance which 
 tinctured perceptibly the literature of Europe in its dawn, 
 seized the imagination of the great Florentine, and formed 
 the groundwork of passages in his deathless song. No one 
 can suppose that it derogates from the originality of Dante's 
 genius that he should utilise the material gathered in the 
 course of his universal reading, and embody in a supreme 
 achievement the poetic fancies with which the mediaeval mind 
 
 1 This letter is numbered 201 in the edition of the Lettere di S. Catarina 
 di Siena, published at Florence in 1860.
 
 346 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 was nurtured and delighted. 1 Homer collected together the 
 fragmentary treasures of song and story dispersed among the 
 Greeks, and Shakespeare appropriated and immortalised the 
 fugitive stores which lay scattered around him in oral and in 
 written lore. 
 
 Dante's own countrymen, as far as I am aware, took the 
 initiative in that branch of inquiry which led up to the Celtic 
 sources of the Divine Comedy. About sixty years ago, 
 Francesco Cancelliere published in Rome his observations on 
 the Originality of the Divine Comedy. Twenty or thirty years 
 later, French writers took up the theme : Frederic Ozanam 
 treated the subject learnedly and charmingly in his work on 
 Dante and the Catholic Philosophy of the thirteenth century, 
 as well as in his interesting essay on the Poetic Sources of the 
 Divine Comedy; and about the same time, M. Labitte pub- 
 lished a treatise on the Divine Comedy before Dante. German 
 scholars, it is needless to say, have worked the same mine with 
 that ardour and perseverance which distinguish their literary 
 labours. Not many years ago, this subject was brought in a 
 striking way under the notice of Irish readers in an article 
 published in the Nation, 3oth October 1869; which article, 
 judging from its scholarly tone and poetic feeling, as well as 
 from the special knowledge it displays, can hardly have been 
 written by any other than the lamented Denis Florence 
 MacCarthy. The writer, having alluded to the Italian and 
 Spanish accounts on which Calderon founded his drama of 
 " The Purgatory of St. Patrick," thus continues : 
 
 "This famous legend of St. Patrick's Purgatory had pro- 
 duced in Italy, at an earlier period, much more important 
 fruit than had sprung from it even in Spain ; for it is not too 
 much to say that without it the Divina Commcdia of Dante 
 would never have taken the form it did. As an interesting 
 
 1 " The Divina Commtdia is of Dante's writing ; yet in truth /'/ belongs 
 to the ten Christian Centuries ; only the finishing of it is Dante's. So 
 always. The craftsman there, the smith with that metal of his, with these 
 tools, with these cunning methods how little of all he does is properly 
 his work ! All past inventive men work there with him : as indeed with 
 all of us in all things. Dante is the spokesman of the Middle Ages ; the 
 Thought they lived by stands here, in everlasting music. These sub- 
 lime ideas of his, terrible and beautiful, are the fruit of the Christian 
 Meditation of all the good men who had gone before him." Thomas 
 Carlyle's Heroes and Hero- Worship.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 347 
 
 evidence of this we may mention that in 1865, when the fifth 
 centenary of Dante's birthday was celebrated throughout Italy, 
 one of the most remarkable contributions to the literature of 
 the great poem that then appeared was a collection of the 
 early legends that must have influenced Dante in the con- 
 ception and treatment of the Divina Commedia. They were 
 five in number ; the three longest and most important being 
 our Irish legends of St. Patrick's Purgatory, The Voyage of 
 St. Brendan, and the Visions of Tundale. The title of this 
 most interesting tract, of which but two hundred copies were 
 printed, is as follows : Antiche Leggende c Tradizioni che 
 illustrano La Divina Commedia, precedute da alcune osser- 
 vazioni di P. Villa ri, Pisa 1865. Professor Villari, in his 
 introductory remarks on Dante and Literature in Italy, refers 
 thus to those three Irish legends : ' In questo periodo, 
 PIrlanda dimostra una singolare attivita, producendo quelle 
 che son forse le tre leggende piu popolari del medio evo, e 
 pigliano il nome appunto da tre Irlandesi S. Brandano, S. 
 Patrizio, e Tundalo.' After giving a copious analysis of the 
 three legends, which he subsequently prints in full from old 
 Italian versions, he corroborates the opinion we have expressed 
 as to their effect upon the imagination of Dante in the follow- 
 ing passages : ' Troviamo molte scene, molte pene e mold 
 personaggi, che hanno qualche relazione con quelli, che ci 
 veugono poi descritti da Dante. La descrizione di Lucifero, 
 che inspira ed aspira le anime ridotte prima, sotto il martellare 
 di fabbri infernali, in una pasta simile a ferro fuso, e poi in 
 favelle, e che pure non passon morire, ha qualche cosa di 
 veramente Dantesco.' " 
 
 Whatever Dante's indebtedness may have been to each of 
 these legends respectively, one thing is certain : the great 
 poet-theologian, as the Vicomte de Villemarque observes, was 
 nurtured on the marrow of the Celtic legends. 1 Poets of 
 
 1 See La Legende Critique et la Poesie des Cloitres. M. de Villemarque, 
 speaking of the Voyage of St. Brendan, quotes M. Kenan's opinion that 
 this legend may justly be considered one of the most astonishing creations 
 of the human intelligence, and that it is the completest expression of the 
 Celtic ideal. A version of the Vision of Tundale was published in Edin- 
 burgh in 1843, but the book is now so difficult to procure that it would be 
 useless to refer readers to it. An abstract of the legendary narrative will 
 be found in Mr. Wright's St. Patrick's Purgatory. Tundale was a native 
 of Cashel, and the history of his experiences in the regions beyond the
 
 54S THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 lesser magnitude were not unaware, as we may well suppose, 
 of the mine of precious ore embedded in the Celtic legends. 
 At anyrate, it would be difficult to believe that Fazio degli 
 Uberti knew anything of Ireland and yet remained in igno- 
 rance of St. Patrick's Purgatory ; or that, having set foot in this 
 " kingdom of the zephyrs," he departed hence without visiting 
 the famous cave by which many had entered the precincts of 
 the invisible world, and round which a multitude of repentant 
 sinners, less courageous or aspiring, had gone through the 
 austere course prescribed, got rid of their remorse, and soothed 
 their contrite pain. 
 
 But now the question was, how to get an opportunity of 
 making acquaintance with the Dittamondo. No library in 
 Dublin possesses the work except the library of Trinity College, 
 where there is a copy, not so much preserved as actually buried 
 alive, together with other sumptuously-bound first editions of 
 Italian classics. The conditions under which the precious 
 tomes forming the Quin collection were bequeathed to the 
 
 grave is of an earlier date than that of the knight Owen's journey through 
 Purgatory. Of a still more remote antiquity than that assigned to any one 
 of the three legends referred to by Signer Villari is the story of the Vision 
 of St. Fursey. This Vision is the earliest of all, for it belongs to the 
 middle of the seventh century. It is undoubtedly of Irish origin. The 
 Venerable Bede gives the life of the holy Abbot Fursey, who "was found 
 worthy to behold the choirs of angels and to hear the praises which are 
 sung in heaven." The earlier years of the saint were passed in a monastery 
 on the island of Inchiquin in Lough Corrib, the latter were devoted to 
 missionary work among the Franks. He is reverenced to this day as 
 patron of Lagny and Peronne. The Rev. S. Baring-Gould, in his Lives 
 of the Saints, records the incidents of St. Fursey 's life, but has not space 
 for an account of the Vision which, he says, appears to have been the 
 original of Dante's Divina Commedia. The Rev. John O'Hanlon, in his 
 Lives of Irish Saints (vol. i. ), relates the history of St. Fursey in its 
 various and interesting particulars, and gives the celebrated Vision in all 
 its details. The author thinks there can scarcely be a doubt entertained 
 that the Vision of St. Fursey furnished Dante in a great measure with the 
 idea and plan of his divine poem ; even various passages, he remarks, of 
 the Divina Commedia seem drawn from St. Fursey's Vision, for the coin- 
 cidences are too striking to be fortuitous ; and furthermore, he gives, to 
 the great satisfaction of the reader, a number of these passages, sometimes 
 in Gary's and sometimes in Longfellow's translation. The learned anno- 
 tator of Cambrensis Eversus, the Rev. Matthew Kelly, does not indicate 
 any one of these legends as more connected than the rest with Dante's 
 glorious work, but he alludes in general terms to the great number of 
 Visions originally published in Ireland, thence circulated over the Con- 
 tinent, and at length immortalised by Dante in his Divine Comedy.
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 349 
 
 University are very extraordinary. I shall only remark, that I 
 could not dream of applying for permission, under existing 
 circumstances, to pore over the four-hundred-years-old type, 
 bristling with errors, in search of the pages relating to Ireland ; 
 nor could I ask anyone of my acquaintance, young or old, to 
 do so for me. It would be easier to buy the book, even at an 
 extravagant price. Quaritch's catalogues were therefore referred 
 to ; and it turned out, that although copies of the first editions 
 and manuscripts on vellum, in various states of preservation, 
 and at prices varying from twenty-five shillings to twenty-five 
 pounds, were to be found in catalogues not many years old, the 
 work had disappeared from later lists. Still, the poem had 
 been reprinted twice in the nineteenth century at Venice in 
 1820, and at Milan in 1826. Would it not be possible to find 
 a copy of one or another of these modern issues ? Old book- 
 shops in Dublin were ransacked, foreign booksellers in London 
 applied to, advertisements tried all to no effect A gleam of 
 hope shone forth when Lord Charlemont, in the summer of 
 1882, presented to the Royal Irish Academy a number of 
 manuscript volumes, containing original literary works of his 
 illustrious grandfather, among them being " An Essay towards 
 the History of Italian Poetry attempted in translated specimens 
 of the more noted classical poets from Dante to Metastasio, 
 inclusively." Surely, I thought, we shall find Fazio degli 
 Uberti on Ireland done into English by the patriot-earl, who 
 had owned a copy of the Dittamondo. Here again, however, 
 hope lead on to disappointment only. 
 
 At length, a gentleman, setting out for Italy last autumn, 
 kindly undertook to search Milan for a copy of the Ditta- 
 mondo "ridotto a buona lezione" published there fifty- 
 seven years ago. The first news I heard from the Lombard 
 city was to the effect that the principal publishers had been 
 applied to, but that they appeared to have no knowledge of the 
 edition specified, or at best, knew just so much of it as to be 
 quite certain that a copy could not be procured for love or 
 money. Our traveller, remembering how Mr. Rooney and Mr. 
 Traynor of Dublin can come to the aid of gentlemen in want 
 of old books, bethought him of inquiring whether there might 
 not be someone in Milan whose specialty lay in old books, and 
 who might be willing to dispose of his treasures to the curious 
 in such matters. In reply, he received the address of a collector
 
 350 THE D1TTAMONDO 
 
 answering to this description. Forthwith, following the clue he 
 had obtained, he found himself in the street where stands the 
 Ospedale Maggiore, with its sumptuously ornamented front 
 the glory of terra-cotta workmanship. Up and down he looked 
 for some appearance of an old bookshop ; but finding not the 
 slightest indication of name, signboard, or establishment, he 
 sought the assistance of a passer-by, who directed him to enter 
 a mansion right opposite the hospital. Within he found no 
 shop, certainly, but a spacious apartment like a chamber in 
 an ancient palace, the floor encumbered with piles of books 
 and manuscripts, and the walls lined with presses containing 
 similar treasures. In the midst sat an old man, the monarch 
 of all he surveyed. "Had he a copy of the Dittamondo?" 
 " Sicuro that he had ; one that would enchant the signor 
 rare, precious, perfectly lovely ! " And his eyes brightened 
 as he proudly laid open a venerable volume before his visitor, 
 and gave him to understand that for the insignificant sum of 
 fifty lire he was at liberty to carry off the prize. " But," said 
 the stranger from r Ultima Irlanda, observing the old type of 
 the " lovely volume," and remembering that unless the reading 
 of the Dittamondo were "made easy" its perusal might be an 
 impossibility. " But I do not want anything so valuable. 
 What I am looking for is a copy of the poem printed in this 
 city within the present century." The surprise and contempt 
 expressed by the antiquary's attitude and countenance were 
 inimitable. " I have not the book you require," said he ; " it 
 can be had for three or four lire." " Well, then," replied the 
 traveller, " if you have the goodness to bring it to me to-morrow 
 morning, I shall gladly pay five lire for the acquisition." Next 
 day, just as our friend was preparing to set out for Verona, the 
 old book-collector made his appearance with the new Ditta- 
 mondo (now of a respectable age) in his hand, and was grate- 
 fully presented with the promised lire. 
 
 In due course the long-sought-for Dittamondo reached its 
 destination. It is a large i6mo of 520 pages, excellently 
 printed on paper not too fine, embellished with a portrait of 
 the author, and enclosed in a paper cover the colour of brick- 
 dust. The volume forms number 179 of the "Biblioteca 
 Scelta di Opere Italiane antiche e moderne," was printed at 
 the Tipografia Silvestri, Milan, and published on the ist day of 
 February 1826. To all appearance the copy had never been
 
 THE D ITT A HONDO 351 
 
 opened from the day it issued from the press. Without any 
 difficulty for a table of contents graces this edition I dis- 
 covered the part relating to Ireland. And there, to my satis- 
 faction, I found St. Patrick's Purgatory occupying ten out of the 
 twenty-six verses devoted to our Land of the West. The author 
 having given more than three chapters to a description of Eng- 
 land, with its inhabitants, its wonders, and its history, proceeds 
 to Scotland, which region he dismisses in four verses of some- 
 what uncomplimentary epithets. Then he goes on to say: 
 
 " In like manner we passed into Ireland, a country worthy 
 of great fame amongst us for the beautiful serges that she sends 
 us. Hibernia there awaits and invites us ; and although the 
 voyage is attended with danger, our desire to reach the shore 
 vanquishes prudence. Winds from various points, bellowing 
 and whistling, lash the waves upon the coast strewn with reefs 
 and sandbanks. 
 
 " Though the inhabitants seem wild and the country is rugged 
 with mountains, yet nevertheless it is a pleasant land to those 
 who make acquaintance with it. Here are great pastures rich 
 with grass, and the soil is so fruitful that Ceres holds none of 
 her arts in reserve. A mild temperature prevails, as in spring- 
 time, refreshing the land with limpid springs and beautiful 
 rivers. 
 
 "Here I saw lakes of various natures, one of which attracted 
 me so much that my wistful eyes take delight in it still. They 
 say that if a stick is thrust into it, the part in the ground 
 speedly turns into iron, that in the water changes to stone, 
 while the portion projecting above the wave suffers no altera- 
 tion, but remains in its original condition. Another lake I saw 
 totally different a wand of horn when stuck in it becomes an 
 ash tree. 
 
 " Again, we came to a little island in which no one can die. 
 As soon as an inhabitant is about to pass away, he flings him- 
 self out of it. Moreover, there are remote caverns where no 
 flesh corrupts, so tempered is the pervading air. 
 
 " I found that the people have flesh meat and various fruits 
 for food, while for drink they have an unfailing supply of milk. 
 
 "Thus, exploring the distant parts of the country and 
 making inquiries on the way, we got information concerning a 
 certain very holy and devout monastery. Thither we betook 
 ourselves, and there were hospitably received. The good
 
 352 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 monks conducted us to the cave which makes the blessed 
 Patrick so famous. 
 
 " ' What shall we do ? ' said my beloved counsellor to me. 
 ' Do you wish to pass within ? You are so anxious to fathom 
 the meaning of everything new and strange ! ' 
 
 " ' No,' I replied, ' I will not enter without the advice of the 
 monks ; for it is terrible to me to think of penetrating to the 
 very depths of hell.' 
 
 " Thereupon one of the monks answered : ' If you do not 
 feel yourself pure and clean, resolute and full of faith, you can- 
 not be sure of returning should you enter.' 
 
 " And I said : ' If you can satisfy me on this point : rumours 
 are afloat through the world concerning many who have come 
 back from those torments.' 
 
 " To which he replied : ' With regard to Patrick and Nicholas, 
 there can be no doubt whatever that they went in and returned 
 by this entrance. As for the others, I cannot venture to say 
 that one in a hundred may not have the reputation of having 
 made the descent. But I do not know one for certain.' 
 
 " Solinus broke in : ' Put away this idea and do not tempt 
 your God. It would be a grievous thing if anyone were to 
 perish here. It is enough for us to carry on our researches 
 above ground.' 
 
 " ' You are quite right,' said the monk. And then, departing, 
 we bade farewell to the community whom we left behind. 
 
 "In this manner, traversing mountains, valleys, and grassy 
 plains, we met those native tribes who love hunting beyond 
 every other pursuit. 
 
 " Pearls, agates, and various metals are to be found in this 
 country, and also assassagos which have this peculiar property, 
 that when placed in the sun they form a rainbow. 
 
 "The island is about 120 miles in length, and takes its name 
 from the Hibernian Ocean." (Lib. iv. cap. xxvi.) 
 
 It is pleasant to turn from the crude literalness of the above 
 rendering to the easy flow of the fourteenth century verse. 
 
 " Similemente passammo in Irlanda, 
 
 La qual fra noi e degna di gran fama 
 Per le nobili saje che ci manda. 
 Ibernia ora qui ci aspetta e chiama, 
 E benche il navigar la sia con rischio, 
 La ragion fu qui vinta dalla brama.
 
 THE D1TTAMONDO 353 
 
 Diversi venti con mugghi e con fischio 
 Soffiavan per quel mar, anclando a piaggia, 
 Lo qual di sassi e di gran scogli e mischio. 
 Questa gente benche sembria selvaggia, 
 E per gli monti la contrada acerba, 
 Nondimeno ella e dolce a chi 1'assaggia. 
 Quivi son gran pasture piene d'erba, 
 E la terre e si buona, che Cerera 
 Niente dell' arte sua mostrar si serba. 
 Quivi par sempre come in primavera 
 Un acre temperate, che gli appaghi 
 Con chiari fonti e con bella rivera. 
 Quivi di piii nature vidi laghi, 
 
 Uno fra gli altri e che si mi contents, 
 Che ancor diletto n'han gli occhi miei vaghi. 
 Dico, se un legno vi ficchi, diventa 
 In breve ferro quanto ne sta in terra, 
 E pietra cio che 1'aqua bagna e tenta. 
 La parte, che di sopra 1'aere, serra, 
 Dalla natura sua non cambia verso, 
 Ma tal qual vi si mette se ne afferra. 
 Un altro v'e, che vidi assai diverse, 
 Che qual vi pon di corno una verghetta, 
 Frassino poi diventa, ed e converse. 
 Ancora vi trovammo un' isoletta 
 
 La dove 1'uomo mai morir non puote, 
 Ma quando in transir sta, fuor se ne getta. 
 E sonvi ancora caverne rimote, 
 
 Dove alcun corpo non corrompe mai, 
 Si temperata 1'aere vi percuote. 
 Carne e frutte diverse poi trovai, 
 
 Ch'han per lo cibo, e latte hanno per poto, 
 Del quale sanza fallo n'hanno assai. 
 Cosi cercando il paese remoto 
 
 E domandando, ci fu dato indizio 
 D'un monister molto santo e devoto. 
 La ci traemmo, e la fu il nostro ospizio, 
 Poi que' buon frati al pozzo ne menaro, 
 Lo qual da fama al beato Patrizio. 
 Quivi mi disse il mio consiglio caro : 
 Che farem noi? Vuo' tu passr qui entro, 
 Che d'ogni novita cerchi esser chiaro ? 
 Sanza il consiglio, rispos'io, non ci entro, 
 Di questi frati ; che troppo m'e scuro 
 Pensar cercav 1' Inferno fino al centre. 
 E 1'un rispose a me : Se netto e puro, 
 Costante e pien di fede non ti senti, 
 Se v' entri, del tornar non ti assecuro. 
 Ed io : Se puoi, qui fa che mi contenti ; 
 Fama di molti per lo mondo vola, 
 Che son tornati da questi tormenti. 
 
 -3
 
 354 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 Ed egli : Di Patrizio, e di Nicola 
 
 E manifesto, sanza dubbio alcuno, 
 
 Che si calo e torno per questa gola. 
 Degli altri ti so dir che di cento uno 
 
 Che porti fama di cio qui non passa ; 
 
 Ed io per certo non ne so niuno. 
 Solino disse : Questo pensier lassa, 
 
 E non volere il tuo Signor tentare ; 
 
 Tristo sarei, se alcum qui mai trapassa : 
 Basta a noi quel di sopra ricercare. 
 
 Tu dici ben, diss' egli : e qui dai frati 
 
 Preso commiato, li lassammo stare. 
 Cosi passando monti, valli e prati, 
 
 Trovammo qui le genti, che vi stanno, 
 
 Piu che ad altro lavoro, al cacciar dati. 
 Perle, gagate e assai metalli vi hanno, 
 
 E assassagos, la cui natura e propria, 
 
 Che posti al sole 1'arco del ciel fanno. 
 L'Isola per lunghezza vi si copia 
 
 Da cento venti miglia, e il nome ad essa, 
 
 Quel d'Ibernio oceano, vi si appropia." 
 
 And now, I may ask, does it occur to anyone to consider 
 whether in all this there is a tittle of evidence that Fazio degli 
 Uberti actually set foot on the Irish shore. I confess I have my 
 doubts as to his having done more than pass through the island 
 in the company of his guide and counsellor, Solinus, in the same 
 sense that Dante traversed regions of the other world under 
 the escort of Virgil. In the first place, he did not begin his 
 wanderings until late in life, as Villani points out, and as he 
 himself indicates in a passage of the Dittamondo, where he says 
 (Lib. ii. cap. xxxi.) 
 
 " E bench 'il tempo e tardo, 
 Mosso mi son per veder peregrine 
 Del mondo quant'l Sol n'ha in suo riguardo." 
 
 He cannot possibly have visited all the countries he describes 
 in his poem ; and it is improbable that he attempted the isle 
 lying at the farthest extremity of the world. Too far advanced 
 in life to undertake a pilgrimage to the Purgatory of St. Patrick 
 in the fashion of a hardy wayfarer, he certainly was not rich 
 enough to journey to the wilds of Ulster with a troop of horses 
 and attendants in the style affected by his noble compatriots. 
 Moreover, there is, in his description of the country and its 
 inhabitants, a want of those realistic touches which characterise
 
 THE DITTAMONDO 355 
 
 a picture studied from the life, and which are not wanting in 
 some other parts of the cosmography. All that he says of 
 Ireland had already been said in books accessible to students 
 of his time and nation, and certain to be consulted by so 
 diligent a reader as the author of the Dittamondo. 
 
 Solinus, 1 for example, would inform him of the dangerous 
 nature of the sea raging between Britain and Hibernia, " so 
 very few days "; would describe for him the extreme fertility 
 stormy and restless throughout the year as to be navigable on 
 of the soil, " rich to such a degree that the cattle had from time 
 to time to be driven off the pasture-lands lest they should be 
 injured by overfeeding" ; and would likewise support the asser- 
 tion that the inhabitants were rude in their habits : which 
 opinion, however, the Venerable Bede and other authorities 
 would help to modify. Bede, moreover, would satisfy him of 
 the salubrity of the climate and the abundant produce of milk, 
 fish, fowl, and venison; while Giraldus Cambrensis would give 
 him an idea of the copious water-supply of a country where 
 "pools and lakes are to be found even on the summits of lofty 
 and steep mountains." 
 
 As for the extraordinary properties of certain lakes, the 
 story of the island where no one can die, and the places 
 where no flesh corrupts, all these marvels were in wide 
 circulation long before Fazio's time. He does no more than 
 relate, in a cut-and-dry way, what earlier writers invested with 
 ampler details and more picturesque colouring under the 
 title of The Wonders of Ireland? In what he says of the 
 holy and devout monastery under whose guardianship the 
 " Island of Purgatory " was placed, he closely adheres to the 
 
 1 Caius Julius Solinus, a Roman geographer, flourished in the third 
 century of the Christian era. His Polykisior was translated into Eng- 
 lish by Arthur Golding in 1587. 
 
 - Speaking of the MIRABILIA URBIS ROM^:, Ampere says : " Une 
 classe nombreuse de livres portait ce nom (MIRABILIA) au moyen age ; 
 il y avail les Merveilles de F Orient, les Merveilles de I ' Trlande, les 
 Merveilles du Monde." And Campion, writing in the sixteenth century, 
 makes the following observation bearing on this point: "Every History 
 of Ireland that I have scene, maketh one severall title, De Mirabilibus 
 Hibernia, and therein with long processe treateth of severall Hands, 
 some full of Angels, some full of devils, some for male only, some for 
 female, some where poore may live, some where none can dye : finally, 
 such effects of waters, stones, trees, and trinkets, that a man would vveene 
 them to be but heedlesse and uncertain tales by theii complexion."
 
 356 THE DITTAMONDO 
 
 written account of the pilgrimage. So far from being 
 encouraged to penetrate into another world, penitents were 
 exhorted not to attempt so much. Leave had to be obtained 
 from the bishop of the diocese (or, as some say, from the 
 " Archbishop of Ireland "), as well as from the prior, before 
 anyone was permitted to enter the putgatorial cave. The 
 Nicholas named with Patrick as having undoubtedly re- 
 appeared after a visit to the other world, is evidently the 
 pilgrim whose experiences are related in the Golden Legend. 
 
 However, though the author of the Dittamondo tells us 
 nothing new about ourselves, his description of Ireland is 
 extremely interesting, as showing what figure we made in the 
 eyes of Europe five hundred years ago. And for my own 
 part, I must say that if, on opening the old poem, I found 
 no allusion to the famous cave in Donegal, I should have 
 been disconcerted, amazed, and racked with historic doubts.
 
 FRIENDS AT COURT 
 
 " TELL me your company, and /'// tell you what you are" is 
 merely a rough way of indicating the value which attaches to 
 chosen and avowed friendships as a test of character. No 
 doubt, accidental circumstances may lead to the formation 
 of ties both intimate and enduring, and opportunity rather 
 than election may establish relations which closely approach 
 to "a noble and a true conceit of God-like amity." Still, no 
 sooner have you learned who and what a man's dearest friends 
 and constant companions are than you apply the discovery as 
 a gauge of his judgment, a criterion of his taste, and a measure 
 of his intrinsic worth. 
 
 For my own part, I confess that when anyone interests me 
 particularly, I feel curious to know not only who are his 
 friends and familiars in the daily intercourse of life, but what 
 characters in history are his favourites, and which of all the 
 saints in the calendar claims his homage of predilection. 
 For it is not the eminently pious alone who are acquainted 
 with the saints. Readers of history are not ignorant of the 
 lives and characteristic qualities of the great and holy ones 
 of Christendom who typify an epoch or personify a cause ; 
 they have their favourites among the canonised, and can 
 discourse to you with intelligence of St. Ambrose or St. 
 Gregory, of St. Edward of England or St. Louis of France, 
 of the Angel of the Schools or the preacher of the Crusades. 
 Votaries of Fine Art have their preferences, too, for one or 
 another of the white-robed army and the glorious company of 
 the saints ; and the frequenters of picture galleries, the 
 students of Vasari, Rio, Mrs. Jameson, and the rest, will 
 
 3S7
 
 358 FRIENDS AT COURT 
 
 point out to you the objects of their admiration arrow- 
 pierced Sebastian or the mailed St. Maurice, rapt Cecilia 
 or Dorothea flower-crowned, the seraphic St. Francis or the 
 divine St. John. 
 
 Nor is this predilection for one rather than another of the 
 majestic and saintly personages portrayed in art simply a 
 poetic or aesthetic fancy. There is, I think, something more 
 in the attraction. The love for the pictured semblance 
 betrays a deeper feeling; and I have oftentimes noticed the 
 shy, half -conscious way in which the possessor of a good 
 picture of a sacred subject descants on its merits; as if the 
 subject were dearer to him than the artist's interpretation, and 
 touched more nearly "the soul's secret springs" than he might 
 be willing to acknowledge. 
 
 Catholics, of course, relegate the poetry and aesthetics of 
 the question to a secondary place. The saints are to us 
 really and dearly companionable, and the pictures in which 
 they are worthily portrayed are objects of affection as well as 
 of devotion. The great body of the faithful are, I suppose, 
 content with one heavenly protector, and invoke principally 
 their name-saint, or the guardian saint of their country, or the 
 patron of their parish, trade, order, or profession. But never- 
 theless there are many who, while paying honour to these 
 their natural protectors, so to speak, feel still more specially 
 and devoutly drawn to other blessed ones, on whom they rely 
 for the discharge of offices of friendship aid in the course of 
 life's pilgrimage, and countenance before the heavenly throne. 
 Oftentimes it is interesting to learn, or to surmise, how these 
 celestial friendships began, when the sympathetic link was 
 formed, and why this saint rather than another engaged the 
 devout affection of a poor human soul sojourning afar from 
 the eternal home. 
 
 Thus, when Cardinal Newman tells us that he loves St. 
 John Chrysostom as he loves David and St. Paul, who hears 
 those words unmoved? who stays not to consider what the 
 affinity may be between the great master of the English tongue 
 and "John of the golden mouth"; between the illustrious 
 convert of our day and the poet-king of Israel ; between 
 " Father Newman of the Oratory " and the Apostle of the 
 Gentiles, in whom intellect and love were equal forces ? 
 
 The patrons proper of St, Stanislaus Kostka were presumably
 
 FRIENDS AT COURT 359 
 
 Ignatius and Xavier. And yet it was not they who appeared 
 to him in his dying hour, welcoming him to heaven. Close to 
 the spot where he expired, the vision may be seen to this day, 
 thanks to the painter's art, delineated on the wall in front of 
 which lies the effigy of the saint sculptured in marble. The 
 beholder recognises in the heavenly group the virgin martyrs, 
 Agnes, Barbara, and Cecilia, together with the Immaculate 
 Mother and a winged escort of the celestial host. 
 
 Of these three patrons, Barbara appears to have been the 
 one most of all relied on by the youthful saint in seasons of 
 trial and difficulty. In his boyhood he had himself enrolled 
 as a member of a confraternity of the Blessed Virgin and St. 
 Barbara ; and it is recorded in the story of his life how, having 
 fallen ill at Vienna in the house of a Lutheran, who would not 
 allow a priest to enter the dwelling, Stanislaus, pining for the 
 Bread of Life, turned to the beatified martyr whose festival he 
 had kept a short time before with extraordinary devotion, and 
 besought her to aid him in his utmost need. In answer to 
 his prayer of faith, the Blessed Sacrament was brought to him 
 by two angels in presence of St. Barbara. 
 
 Catherine Burton, whose life, under the title of An English 
 Carmelite, forms an interesting volume of the Quarterly Series, 
 brought out so punctually these many years under Father 
 Coleridge's editorship, cherished a very special devotion to St. 
 Francis Xavier, and was signally befriended by him in return. 
 The Apostle of the Indies visited her in sickness, cured her, 
 comforted her, and fulfilled in her regard all the offices of 
 friendship. Surely this is as strange an association of patron 
 and client as could be named. 
 
 The late Most Rev. Dr. Dixon had an extraordinary 
 devotion to St. Catherine of Siena. The primate did not 
 choose as his friend of friends among the saints, Patrick or 
 Malachy, or Francis de Sales, or Charles Boromeo, as one 
 might expect. It is recorded of him that St. Catherine's 
 works were daily in his hands; that he could hardly preach a 
 sermon, or pay a visit, or say a few words, without mentioning 
 her. He used to say that St. Catherine did everything for 
 him. By a strange coincidence, he died on the anniversary 
 of the day when she passed to her reward ; and not only on 
 the same day of the month, but on the same day of the week, 
 and at the same hour of the day. Some years before his
 
 36o FRIENDS AT COURT 
 
 death, he asked permission to be buried, when his time should 
 come, in the little cemetery attached to the convent of the 
 Sacred Heart, Mount St. Catherine, Armagh. After his 
 death, this was found among the directions concerning his 
 funeral, which he ordered to be as simple as possible : " Some 
 kind friend will place a slab over my grave with the following 
 inscription, and nothing more 
 
 "Joseph, expectant resurrectionem farm's, 
 S. Catherina Senensis or a pro me" 
 
 In the ages of Faith, which were also the days of High Art, 
 it was not unusual for the noble and rich to commission the 
 great masters to paint votive pictures, in which the donors, 
 their families, and their patron saints, should be represented 
 as grouped round the enthroned Madonna and Infant Saviour. 
 These pictures were intended for altar-pieces; generations 
 prayed before them as they hung in the chapels of the great 
 cathedrals and churches of Italy, Germany, and Flanders. In 
 later times they are more likely to be found in public galleries 
 or in private collections ; but, wherever they are, they arrest 
 attention as examples more than commonly interesting of the 
 schools to which they belong. The association in these 
 splendid panels of the human and the divine, of youth and 
 age, of beauty, majesty, chivalry, and sanctity, forms a glorious 
 vision, and one which cannot be contemplated even at this 
 day without the deepest interest. In these pictures the saints 
 are carefully individualised, and easily distinguishable by their 
 characteristic expression and their attributes. The donors 
 have left behind them, in some instances, not only these 
 beautiful testimonies of their piety and munificence, but 
 names that are enshrined in history ; while in other cases, no 
 record of their names is anywhere to be found, save, let us 
 hope, in the Book of Life. Mrs. Jameson describes several 
 pictures of this kind in her graceful, happy manner. Here is 
 her account of one which she saw in the Museum of Rouen, 
 attributed there to Van Eyck : 
 
 " It is probably a fine work by a later master of the school, 
 perhaps Hemmelinck. In the centre the Virgin is enthroned ; 
 the Child, seated on her knee, holds a bunch of grapes, 
 symbol of the Eucharist. On the right of the Virgin is St. 
 Apollonia ; then two lovely angels in white raiment, with lutes
 
 FRIENDS AT CO UK T 361 
 
 in their hands ; and then a female head, seen looking from 
 behind, evidently a family portrait. More in front, St. Agnes, 
 splendidly dressed in green and sable, her lamb at her feet, 
 turns with a questioning air to St. Catherine, who, in queenly 
 garb of crimson and ermine, seems to consult her book. 
 Behind her, another member of the family, a man with a very 
 fine face ; and more in front, St. Dorothea, with a charming 
 expression of modesty, looks down on her basket of roses. 
 On the left of the Virgin is St. Agatha, then two angels in 
 white with viols, then St. Cecilia, and near her a female head, 
 another family portrait ; next, St. Barbara, wearing a beautiful 
 head-dress, in front of which is worked her tower, framed like 
 an ornamental jewel in gold and pearls she has a missal in 
 her lap. St. Lucia next appears, then another female portrait. 
 All the heads are about one-fourth of the size of life. I stood 
 in admiration before this picture such miraculous finish in 
 all the details, such life, such spirit, such delicacy in the heads 
 and hands, such brilliant colour in the draperies ! Of its 
 history I could learn nothing, nor what family had thus intro- 
 duced themselves into celestial companionship. The portraits 
 seemed to me to represent a father, a mother, and two 
 daughters." l 
 
 The Venetian painters were remarkable for the art with 
 which they grouped the noble forms of earth and heaven into 
 a splendid and suggestive scene ; and many were the subjects 
 of this class which they were commissioned to execute by 
 their munificent patrons the military commanders, the mer- 
 chant princes, the guilds and religious confraternities, and the 
 republic herself. The guardian saints of Venice formed a 
 numerous and a splendid host, and had the place of honour 
 in the pageants and triumphs of the State. Besides the Apostle 
 St. Mark, and the warrior-martyr Theodore, Venice counted 
 among her protectors, St. George of Cappadocia, the patron of 
 soldiers and patricians ; St. Nicholas of Myra, the protector of 
 seamen, merchants, and the citizens at large ; St. Catherine, 
 the patroness of learning and the ecclesiastical Order ; and St. 
 Justina, whose name is associated with the great day of 
 Lepanto. In commemorative pictures, painted by command 
 of the republic, contemporary celebrities are not always intro- 
 duced ; sometimes the guardian saints alone appear in presence 
 1 Legends of the Madonna,
 
 3fa FRIENDS AT COURT 
 
 of the Madonna, sometimes Venice herself is the only figure 
 divested of the aureole of sanctity which is seen in heavenly 
 company. Thus St. Justina is often placed on one side of the 
 Madonna, accompanied by St. Mark or St. Catherine; or with 
 St. Mark she presents Venice (under the form of a beautiful 
 woman, crowned and sumptuously attired) to the Virgin, as in 
 " a grand, scenic, votive picture, painted for the State by Paul 
 Veronese." l 
 
 Perhaps the last place in which one would expect to meet 
 this same beautiful St. Justina, bearing the sword of martyrdom, 
 is the arsenal. Yet there she is : within, pictured as inter- 
 ceding in heaven for the Venetians ; and without, a noble 
 sculptured form elevated on the pediment of the great gate- 
 way. But the arsenal of Venice was no ordinary storehouse 
 of the munitions of war. It included the shipbuilder's yard 
 and the artillery school. It was the pride and strength of the 
 republic, the envy and terror of her foes, the very heart of 
 Venice. If the arsenal were endangered, then might the 
 Queen of the Adriatic tremble. One night it was the i3th 
 of September 1569 the city did in truth tremble in all her 
 hundred isles. The inhabitants, roused from their sleep by an 
 awful noise and the shaking of the houses, rushed wildly out ; 
 the nobles ran to arms; all was confusion and uncertainty, 
 until the light of a conflagration revealed the nature and extent 
 of the disaster. The powder magazine had exploded, and the 
 walls and turrets of the arsenal were blown into the air. At 
 thirty miles' distance the explosion was heard. Report magni- 
 fied the extent of the devastation ; it was believed that all the 
 naval stores of Venice were destroyed ; and at Constantinople, 
 the implacable, deadly foe of Venice and of Christendom 
 rejoiced that the strength and prestige of the great maritime 
 power of the West were gone for ever. 2 But when the 
 Venetians came to compute their losses, it was found that 
 comparatively little injury was done. Few lives had been lost, 
 and only four galleys destroyed. Once more the arsenal 
 became the centre of energy and movement ; the towers and 
 walls were rebuilt, and the artillery was remounted ; and in the 
 following year Venice was ready with an effective maritime 
 force to join the League which Pope Pius v. was organising 
 for the defence of Christendom against the overwhelming 
 1 Sacred and Legendary Art. " Daru, Histoire de Venise, t. 5.
 
 FRIENDS AT COURT 363 
 
 power of the Turks. At Lepanto, the Venetian galleys, 
 mounted with heavy ordnance, served by the renowned bom- 
 bardieri of the republic, and navigated by rowers ready at a 
 moment's notice to join the men-at-arms in a hand-to-hand 
 struggle, contributed in an eminent degree to the catastrophe 
 in which the maritime glory of the Crescent set for ever. 1 
 
 The victory of Lepanto, a " victory so glorious, complete, 
 and decisive as had never before been achieved by Christen- 
 dom," 2 was gained on the 7th of October, which, in the year 
 1571, fell on a Sunday. It was the feast of St. Justina of 
 Padua, who, since the surrender to Venice of that and other 
 cities of the mainland in which she was honoured, had been 
 held in particular veneration by the republic. The tidings of 
 the defeat of the Turks had been sent after the battle to the 
 pope, but owing to contrary winds the envoys did not reach 
 Rome until messengers from Venice had already brought the 
 intelligence to his Holiness. Through the same medium, 
 likewise, Philip n. received the earliest tidings of the victory. 
 Venice, in fact, was the first to be gladdened with the glorious 
 news, the gonfalonnier Giustiniani having received orders to 
 proceed at once in his galley from the bloodstained waters of 
 the gulf and carry home the intelligence. 
 
 On the evening of the i7th of October, the galley, with the 
 banner of the angel Gabriel floating from the mast, sailed past 
 the lagoon, her crew and men-at-arms rending the air with 
 shouts of victory. As the vessel entered the Canal of St. 
 Martin, the salvos of her guns re-echoed through the city. In 
 the campanili, the brazen tongues caught up the signal ; and 
 the populace, wild with joy, ran out upon the quays and open 
 places, joining the roar of their voices to the thunder of the 
 artillery and the clangour of the bells. Presently the galley 
 nearecl the shore ; and a strange apparition she presented, 
 looming in the dusk. All the soldiers on board carried 
 Turkish banners, and the rowers were dressed out in the spoils 
 
 1 The contingent of Venice to the forces of the League far exceeded 
 that which the King of Spain contributed, or that which the rest of Italy 
 supplied. Of the 243 ships of war and other vessels brought into action, 
 121 carried the standard of the republic. Her soldiers, navymen, and 
 rowers amounted to 41,000 in a total of 86,400. See the computation of 
 the allied forces in Guglielmotti's Marcantonio Colonna alia Battaglia di 
 Lepanto, lib. ii. cap. xiv. 
 
 * Ranke.
 
 364 FRIENDS AT COURT 
 
 of the enemy. Giustiniani stepped ashore at the piazza, of St. 
 Mark, and was carried by the people to the Ducal Palace, 
 where he was introduced to the Council. Having heard the 
 intelligence of the triumph of the Christian arms, the Doge 
 and the Signory proceeded to the Church of St. Mark to 
 return thanks to Almighty God; and notwithstanding the late- 
 ness of the hour, they had a solemn Mass celebrated by a 
 foreign priest who happened to be on the spot. By this time 
 the papal legate and the ambassadors had in their turn 
 appeared on the scene. The entire population were in the 
 piazza ; and the vast multitude, with one accord raising their 
 voices, sang the Te Deuf/i. 1 
 
 Venice had her full share in the losses, as well as in the 
 glory, of Lepanto. Barberigo, their noble provveditore, was 
 mortally wounded in the fight, yet survived long enough to 
 learn that the Turks were routed, and to give God thanks that 
 he had lived to see that hour. Thirty-seven captains of 
 galleys were killed or wounded. The bombardieri, the 
 soldiers, rowers, pilots, all suffered severely. Out of 15,440 
 of the allied forces placed hors de combat on that day, between 
 9000 and 10,000 were in the Venetian ranks. 2 But none 
 should mourn for those who fell so gloriously. It was the 
 duty of all to rejoice for the deliverance of Christendom, and 
 by a public decree the yth of October was set apart to be 
 observed for ever as a national festival. 
 
 To the arsenal were borne the red and yellow standards 
 taken from the Turks, and there, even to this day, they hang 
 in limp and tattered folds. Giolamo Campagna was com- 
 
 1 See an account of the rejoicings at Venice, quoted from an inedited 
 document by M. Yriarte in his Vie d'un Patricieti de Vcnise au sieziemc 
 siecle. 
 
 - See the interesting and valuable work already quoted, Marcantonio 
 Colonna, etc. The author takes trouble to show how important a part 
 the Venetians played in the heroic drama of that day. He gives a 
 picturesque description of the battle, not more so, however, than Prescott 
 does, in his style of easy elegance, and he adds some characteristic touches 
 which I do not remember to have noticed in other pictures of the 
 momentous scene. When the combined fleets were drawn up in line of 
 battle, Don John of Austria displayed the great standard of the League 
 which the pope had blessed and sent to him, that he might unfurl it on the 
 day of conflict. At sight of the crimson banner, embroidered with the 
 image of the crucified Redeemer, all the men on board the galleys, from 
 the captain-general to the soldier lowest in rank, uncovering, bent their
 
 FRIENDS AT COURT 365 
 
 missioned to execute a figure of St. Justina to surmount the 
 gateway, as a testimonial of the triumph and gratitude of the 
 republic. This memorial, too, survives, and still meets the 
 gaze of the traveller when, having come to the arsenal to see 
 the lions of the Pirasus standing at the entrance, he lifts his 
 eyes perchance, and wonderingly inquires what heroine of 
 earth or saint of heaven has thus been raised on high. After 
 the victory of Lepanto, St. Justina was formally ranked among 
 the patrons of the republic, and a coin was struck, having on 
 the reverse a standing figure of the saint, with this legend 
 inscribed around : Memor Ero Tui, Justina Virgo. 
 
 As time rolled on, the Queen of the Adriatic lost her 
 splendour : her military glory waned, her maritime supremacy 
 was lost, her artists left no successors. Still, as long as she 
 retained the semblance of an independent existence, the 
 festival of St. Justina was celebrated with magnificence in 
 Venice. Goethe, who visited that city in October 1786, tells 
 us how picturesque and impressive was the scene on the day 
 of commemoration. Thus he describes the spectacle : 
 
 " This morning I was present at High Mass, which annually 
 on this day the Doge must attend, in the Church of St. Justina, 
 to commemorate an old victory over the Turks. When the 
 gilded barques, which carry the princes and a portion of the 
 nobility, approach the little square; when the boatmen, in 
 their rare liveries, are plying their red-painted oars ; when, 
 on the shore, the clergy and the religious fraternities are 
 standing, pushing, and moving about, and waiting with their 
 lighted torches fixed upon poles and portable silver chande- 
 liers ; then, when the gangways, covered with carpet, are placed 
 from the vessels to the shore, and first the full violet dresses 
 
 knee and confessed their sins ; while the priests on board of each galley 
 pronounced the words of sacramental absolution, and, in the name of the 
 Sovereign Pontiff, granted a plenary indulgence to all. Good food with 
 generous wine was distributed, so that all might be strengthened for the 
 approaching contest. Don John, the generalissimo of the Christian 
 armada, and Colonna, the captain-general of the pope, sailed round in 
 light vessels, animating to the heroic point the courage of those now called 
 upon to fight joyfully to the death for their faith and their country. Don 
 John then returned to his galley; and, fired with the enthusiasm of youth 
 and animated with an intense desire that all should be filled with the noble 
 frenzy of the strife, commanded the trumpets to sound, and danced the 
 gagliarda with two cavaliers on the quarter-deck (piazza d'arme) in the 
 sight of the whole fleet !
 
 366 FRIENDS AT COURT 
 
 of the savii, next the ample red robes of the senators, are un- 
 folded upon the pavement ; and lastly, when the old Doge, 
 adorned with his golden Phrygian cap, in his long golden 
 talar and his ermine cloak, steps out of the vessel when all 
 this, I say, takes place in a little square before the portal of a 
 church, one feels as if one were looking at an old worked 
 tapestry, exceedingly well designed and coloured. To me, 
 northern fugitive as I am, this ceremony gave a great deal of 
 pleasure. . . . The Doge is a well -grown and well- shaped 
 man, who perhaps suffers from ill- health, but, for dignity's 
 sake, bears himself upright under his heavy robe. . . . About 
 fifty nobili, with long, dark-red trains, were with him. For the 
 most part they were handsome men, and there was not an 
 uncouth figure among them. . . . When all had taken their 
 places in the church, and Mass began, the fraternities entered 
 by the chief door, and went out by the side door to the right, 
 after they had received holy water in couples, and made their 
 obeisance to the high altar, to the Doge, and the nobility." x 
 
 How the Church of St. Justina looks in the nineteenth 
 century, and whether any picturesque procession ever crosses 
 the little court once swept by the red trains of the nobili, I am 
 not able to say. I never saw the church ; nor should I, if I 
 found myself again in Venice, know which side to turn in 
 search of it. 
 
 1 Letters from Italy. Translated by the Rev. A. J. W. Morrison.
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 
 
 FACTS are stubborn things, they say ; but so, for that matter, 
 are fictions. One of the most obstinate of our historic inven- 
 tions is that which attributes the Anglo-Norman invasion and 
 all its woes to the light conduct of the Lady Dervorgilla, wife 
 of Tiernan O'Ruark, Prince of Breffny, The legend holds its 
 own to the present hour, although competent authorities have 
 shown that the abduction of this " degenerate daughter of 
 Erin," by Dermod Mac Murrough, King of Leinster, was 
 deficient in all the elements of romance ; would not have been, 
 in that age of the world, a sufficient cause for the catastrophes 
 that followed ; had nothing whatever to do with the landing of 
 foreign adventurers on our shores ; and was altogether a thing 
 of the past when the perpetrator of the outrage, expelled from 
 his dominions by a host of confederate foes, crossed the sea in 
 the hope of obtaining such military aid as would enable him to 
 chase his enemies beyond the frontiers of Leinster and reseat 
 himself on the provincial throne. 
 
 Moore, in the character of historian, related the occurrence 
 in language of becoming sobriety, while he animadverted with 
 a fine irony, which the Bard of Erin must have himself 
 appreciated, on the "strong tendency to prefer showy and 
 agreeable fiction to truth, which enables romance to encroach 
 upon, and even sometimes supersede, history." But Moore, 
 the poet, had already heightened sensational interest of the 
 story, and had done his best to perpetuate the imaginative 
 version which, it must be allowed, Geoffry Keating's prose had 
 long before coloured to a glow that would do credit to the 
 most florid verse. 
 
 367
 
 368 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 
 
 O'Ruark, if romance delight us, set forth on a pilgrimage to 
 St. Patrick's Purgatory, leaving his wife, the daughter of 
 O'Melachlin, King of Meath, safely secluded in the wild fast 
 nesses of Breffny. King Dermod, a former suitor of " this fair 
 and lovely lady," seizing the opportunity thus afforded, galloped 
 across the country to Connaught, attended by a party of horse, 
 seized the princess, and carried her off in all haste to his capital 
 city, Ferns. Breffny's lord, his vows fulfilled and penance per- 
 formed, left the shores of the dim lake and sought the home 
 of his affections. As he drew nigh to his castle at Dromahaire, 
 a strange presentiment clouded his spirit. The valley, indeed, 
 lay smiling before him, but no lamp from the battlements 
 burned, no sign of expectancy or welcome greeted the devoted 
 husband on his return. Within the castle all was changed. 
 Silence reigned in the festive hall ; the lute lay unstrung ; the 
 young false one, in a word, had fled ! Like wildfire spread the 
 news over the land of Erin. The virtuous princes, O'Ruark's 
 compeers, the King of Meath, the Ard-righ himself, animated 
 with righteous indignation, mustered their forces, swooped down 
 on Leinster, and forthwith hurled from his throne the perfidious 
 Mac Murrough, who, flying to England, sold his country to Henry 
 Fitz-Empress, and then immediately returned at the head of an 
 army of proud invaders, and began the battle not yet ended 
 Virtue and Erin on one side; the Saxon and Guilt on the other! 
 
 But there is a different reading of the tale. O'Ruark and 
 Mac Murrough, it appears, had long entertained a bitter ani- 
 mosity towards one another. The latter, in concert with the 
 Ard-righ, or supreme monarch of Ireland, Turloch O'Conor, 
 had entered Tiernan's patrimony, committed great ravages in 
 Breffny O'Rourk, and forcibly expelled the chief. The pious 
 pilgrim (of the poetic version) was engaged, not at Lough 
 Derg, but on a military expedition in a distant part of the 
 country, " in pursuit of kerne, thieves, and outlaws that had 
 mightily annoyed his people," when the Lady Dervorgilla, 
 who had been maltreated by her husband and was residing in 
 an island in the kingdom of Meath, was carried off by the King 
 of Leinster, probably with her own consent, and certainly with 
 the approval of her brother, Melachlin O'Melachlin, the 
 recently appointed lord of East Meath. 1 The journey can 
 
 1 Referring to this occurrence, Thomas Darcy M'Gee, in his Life atid 
 Conquest of Art Mac Mnrroitgh, observes that it seems to have been a
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 369 
 
 hardly have resembled a flight, for the princess took with her 
 to Ferns her cattle, her furniture, and the valuables which con- 
 stituted her dowry ; altogether an amount of heavy baggage 
 totally inconsistent with the circumstances usually associated 
 with an elopement. 1 So prudent an arrangement was not out 
 of keeping with her time of life, for this " Helen of Ireland " 
 was forty-four years of age when she removed with her belong- 
 ings to Leinster. Nor can her companion be described as a 
 youthful gallant. King Dermod was, by nearly twenty years, 
 the senior of the daughter of the princely house of O'Melachlin. 
 This unfortunate abduction, elopement, or what you will, took 
 place fourteen years earlier than the momentous flight of 
 Leinster's lord across the sea. Moreover, the Prince of 
 Breffny's honour had been satisfied by a monetary amende of 
 no mean value a considerable time before the fugitive king 
 entered into an alliance with the spendthrift lords and ad- 
 venturous knights of Southern Wales.'- 
 
 Discrepancies must again be encountered if we would enter 
 into the question of the later life of Dervorgilla, 3 who was 
 obliged to quit Leinster with her goods and chattels the year 
 after her removal thither. According to the Four Masters, she 
 returned to her husband ; other historians say she was brought 
 back to her relatives in Meath ; while Meredith Hanmer cuts 
 
 common usage of war in Ireland to carry off noble women, and hold them 
 to ransom again. A castle on an islet of Lough Ree has been named as 
 the place of Dervorgilla's temporary residence. 
 
 1 The Brehon laws, by which Ireland was then governed, secured to 
 married women the control over their own property. When the husband 
 and wife had each property of their own, the wife was called " the wife of 
 equal fortune." She was in all respects recognised as equal to her husband, 
 and neither party could contract without the consent of the other. 
 Walpole's Kingdom of Ireland. 
 
 - Four years before the invasion of the English, O'Ruark agreed to 
 receive 100 ounces of gold (nearly 4000 of modern currency) as eineach or 
 compensation (modern "damages") for the injury inflicted on him by Mac 
 Murrough. Historical Memoirs of the O'Briens. 
 
 3 Miss Charlotte M. Yonge, in her History of Christian Names, observes 
 that this name, properly Dearbhforghal, was a very tough one for the 
 genealogists. And they had a good deal of it, she adds, "for it was very 
 fashionable in the twelfth century both in Scotland and Ireland, and was 
 turned into Dervorgilla and Dornadilla by the much-tormented chroniclers." 
 I have seen it spelled Dearbhfhorgmll, according to a practice, prevalent 
 in ancient Erin, of scattering vowels with a lavish hand and shovelling in 
 consonants ad libitum. 
 
 24
 
 370 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 
 
 short the discussion on her subsequent career by lightly 
 suggesting that she may have made away with herself. 
 " Belike," says he, " shee hanged her selfe when shee had set 
 all the country in uprore." On the whole, the evidence seems 
 to be in favour of the return to Meath. Nor would this 
 necessarily imply that she was not received by her husband. 
 O'Ruark, in fact, had obtained not long before this date a 
 territory lying about Athboy and the Hill of Ward, in exchange 
 for a tract in his own patrimony ; and he became thenceforth 
 so involved in the commotions of that focus of disorder, Royal 
 Meath, that it seems highly probable his residence and head- 
 quarters were transferred from the wild woods and bogs of 
 Breffny O'Ruark to the region of golden harvest and rich 
 pastures watered by the Boyne and its tributaries. 1 Anyhow, 
 there can be no doubt whatever that Tiernan's wife was 
 residing in Meath, or thereabout, in the enjoyment of liberty, 
 wealth, and honour, a few years after the unfortunate expedition 
 into Leinster. 2 In 1157 her name figures with great distinc- 
 tion (as does the Prince of Breffny's also) in connection with a 
 singularly auspicious and interesting event the consecration 
 of the Abbey Church at Mellifont. 
 
 The mention of Mellifont, the first home of the Cistercians 
 in Ireland, awakens so many sacred and touching memories, 
 and withdraws the mind with so gentle a fascination from the 
 strifes and nameless confusions which make up the history of 
 those days, that leave may be taken to brighten a page or two 
 of this narrative with a sketch of tne incidents attending its 
 foundation, and connecting in indissoluble association the 
 names of St. Bernard of Clairvaux and St. Malachy O'Morgair. 
 
 Some eighteen years before the period we are concerned 
 with, that, is to say, in the year 1139, Malachy, Bishop of 
 
 1 The kingdom of Meath extended from the Shannon eastward to the 
 sea. It included the present counties of Eastmeath and Westmeath, 
 together with parts of Dublin, Kildare, King's County, and Longford. 
 The northern boundaries were Oriel (Louth) and Breffny. Breffny was 
 divided into two principalities. That of Breffny O'Ruark included Leitrim 
 and a part of Longford. 
 
 2 Antiquaries of the highest authority decline to indorse the vulgar 
 reading of Dervorgilla's story. Dr. O'Donovan, I understand, believed that 
 a conclusion more favourable to the lady was the right one to arrive at ; 
 and I know that Professor O'Curry purposed, had time been allowed him, 
 to put the matter in a truer and more creditable light.
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 371 
 
 Down, undertook a journey to Rome to visit the holy places, 
 obtain from the Sovereign Pontiff the confirmation of certain 
 reforms he had carried out in ecclesiastical matters, and solicit 
 the pallium for the episcopal Sees of Armagh and Cashel. A 
 very determined opposition had been made to the prelate's 
 departure by his flock, for they dreaded the dangers to which 
 he must be exposed on so tedious and difficult a journey, and 
 could not content themselves to be deprived for so long a time 
 of the presence of a pastor who, gentle as an angel in his ways, 
 knew nevertheless how to defend the helpless and fight the battles 
 of the poor of Christ. But in the end all opposition had been 
 overcome, and Malachy, taking with him five priests, some other 
 clerics and the necessary attendants, set forth in the style of 
 humble pilgrimage which he invariably adopted in his journeys. 
 On the way through France, the bishop and his companions 
 left the main road and diverged into the solitudes of Cham- 
 peigne to visit the monastery of Clairvaux, situated in a deep 
 gorge once called the Valley of Wormwood, from being the 
 resort of wild animals and the hiding-place of robbers and out- 
 laws, but now the peaceful home of saintly men, beautified by 
 the labour of their hands and fitly named the Happy or Bright 
 Valley Clarivallis. Abbot Bernard governed the Cistercian 
 colony there established, and his fame had gone forth to the 
 uttermost extremity of the known world, even to the land of 
 Malachy's birth and love. The pilgrim strangers received a 
 brotherly welcome, and the visit was felt to be one of no 
 common interest. Great was the edification which the pious 
 guests received in witnessing the holy and laborious life of 
 Bernard's spiritual sons, while the monks, on their part, regarded 
 it as a heavenly dispensation that the saintly bishop from the 
 AV^estern isle tarried with them for a while, and blessed them 
 with effusion as he said farewell and set his face once more 
 towards Rome. This meeting of Bernard and Malachy was the 
 beginning of one of those exquisitely holy and tender friend- 
 ships that we read of not unfrequently in the lives of saints. 
 " To me also in this life was it given to see this man," says 
 Bernard. " In his look and word I was restored, and rejoiced 
 in all manner of riches. And sinner as I was, I found grace 
 in his sight from that time forth even to his death." Of 
 Malachy it is not too much to say that he left his heart in that 
 Happy Valley. And as he neared the Alps, and climbed the
 
 37= THE LADY DERVORGILLA 
 
 mountain barriers, and passed on his weary way across the 
 Lombard plains, a longing to return to the Cistercians grew 
 more and more intense within him. He prayed God that this 
 might come to pass, and he resolved to ask the Father of the 
 Faithful, as a favour which was very near his heart, that 
 he might be allowed to resign his episcopal charge, and, with 
 the permission and blessing of his Holiness, live and die at 
 Clairvaux. 
 
 Innocent n., who then sat in the chair of Peter, received the 
 Irish prelate with even- mark of favour and consideration. 
 After many interviews and conferences with the pope, in which 
 affairs of great importance were arranged in regard to the 
 Church in Ireland, and Malachy's petition that he might end 
 his days in Bernard's monastery was not forgotten, the bishop 
 prepared to depart. In the last audience, the pope took the 
 mitre from his own head and placed it on Malachy's, bestowed 
 on him the stole and maniple which he was himself accustomed 
 to use in celebrating the Holy Sacrifice, gave him the kiss of 
 peace, and with the apostolic benediction sent him back not 
 to Bernard and Clairvaux, but to his distracted native country 
 in the capacity of papal legate. 
 
 Returning by the same route to his distant See, Bishop 
 Malachy visited Clairvaux once more, and confided to Bernard's 
 capacious heart the story of his mission to the Holy Father, 
 the hopes and fears excited by the prospect that lay before 
 him in the troubled land to which he was hastening, the pang 
 he must endure in bidding a long farewell to the Bright Valley, 
 the Cistercian brotherhood, his God-given friend the abbot. 
 Bernard, we may be sure, knew what to say. He could arouse 
 Christendom to the passion of the Crusades, he could " stay 
 up the weary with a word," he could let his speech fall like a 
 shower of soft tears on the heart of the sorrow-stricken. True, 
 Malachy must depart, he must ride the storm in the sea-girt 
 land, he must do the pope's behests. But then, are there no 
 dark defiles, no desert vales in Erin? Are there no men 
 among the Gael willing to withdraw from the turbulent scenes 
 of life, practise penance, and awaken a vainglorious, war- 
 distraught generation to a sense of the necessity and dignity of 
 labour? Would it not be possible, in a word, to found another 
 Clairvaux in Malachy's native land ? This, indeed, was some- 
 thing for the holy men to put their heads together over, to plan
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 373 
 
 and to accomplish. Saints do not usuaHy suffer happy inspira- 
 tions to fade away like sunset clouds ; and so, without letting 
 the grass grow under their feet, the bishop and the abbot took 
 the first step towards the realisation of their pious design. It 
 was settled that four of Malachy's companions should stay with 
 Bernard to learn the discipline of the monastery, take the 
 Cistercian habit in due course, and await the moment when 
 the brethren might be able to establish a colony in the Western 
 isle. 
 
 Not long after his return to Ireland, Malachy sent to Clair- 
 vaux two more postulants with a letter to Bernard, and a staff 
 (stout Irish oak, we may be sure) which he requested the abbot 
 to use as a support in his declining years. In his reply, after 
 acknowledging the consolation which the bishop's letter, the 
 gift, and the arrival of " the brothers come from a distant land 
 to serve the Lord," had given him, the abbot goes on to 
 recommend that a place should be selected and prepared for 
 the reception of the monks, when the time should come for 
 sending them back to Ireland, a place secluded from the 
 tumults of the world, and after the model of those localities 
 which his friend had seen when with the Cistercians in France. 
 Meanwhile, a site in every way suitable for the purpose was 
 given to Malachy by Donough O'Carroll, Prince of Oriel, who, 
 to the territory required for the monastery and its precincts, 
 added other endowments " for the prosperity of his soul and in 
 honour of Paul and Peter." 1 Hid away in a gentle vale 
 surrounded by low hills and watered by a rapid stream, with 
 Tredagh (Drogheda) and the sea four or five miles to the east, 
 and the Boyne flowing at less than half that distance on the 
 south, lay the tract which the brethren were to clear and 
 cultivate, beautify and sanctify. After two years' novitiate, 
 the Irishmen made their profession at Clairvaux. A certain 
 number of French monks were chosen as assistants for them in 
 the new foundation ; among them, Brother Robert, a truly 
 obedient son, whom Bernard spoke of as able to promote the 
 interests of the religious family both in building and in all 
 other necessary works. As superior of the little colony, the 
 
 1 The ancient Irish did not use the prefix "saint" when naming person- 
 ages of eminent holiness. It would have been considered disrespectful to 
 call children after the great servants of God. A compound name was 
 adopted, signifying the sen-ant or devotee of Patrick or Brigid, etc.
 
 374 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 
 
 abbot named Christian O'Conarchy "your dearly beloved 
 son," he said to Malachy, " and ours." 
 
 In 1142 the Cistercians arrived in Ireland, were put in 
 possession of the land which the bishop and the prince had 
 assigned to them, and began at once to make a clearing in 
 the woods and lay the foundation of the monastic buildings. 
 There can be no doubt that while the structures slowly rose, 
 the laborious monks lay encamped around, just as Bernard 
 and his first companions had done in the more savage scene of 
 the Valley of Wormwood, with wattle huts for a shelter, dried 
 leaves or chaff for a bed, and a rough log for a pillow ; while 
 their simple fare was supplied by the rapid growth of their 
 garden, the produce of the surrounding woods, and the yield 
 of the gentle stream. Even at this stage the community in- 
 creased, and Bernard rejoiced to hear that, in a temporal as 
 well as a spiritual sense, the settlement at Mellifont made good 
 progress. In five or six years, if some branches were not 
 actually established in other parts of the island, there was 
 every prospect of this being done before long ; for princes and 
 people were alike delighted with the Cistercian family, and 
 foundations were projected by the rulers of Meath, Leinster, 
 and Connaught. 
 
 Meanwhile, Providence was preparing another and a final 
 joy for Malachy. Just at the moment when circumstances 
 rendered it imperatively necessary that the papal legate should 
 confer with the head of the Church on important matters, 
 word was brought to him that Pope Eugenius in., who was 
 then in France, was about to visit Clairvaux, the home of his 
 early religious life. Taking the resolution, therefore, of seeking 
 the pope in Bernard's monastery, Malachy, with the consent 
 of the bishops whom he had convoked in Synod, and who the 
 more readily acquiesced in the project since the visit to Clair- 
 vaux would be more easily accomplished than a journey to 
 Rome, set out (1148) for Scotland, intending to pass rapidly 
 through England to France. Delays occurred on the way, 
 through the hostility of King Stephen, and when the legate 
 arrived in the Bright Valley, the pope had left, and was already 
 on his way to Rome. But Bernard was there the same 
 Bernard that his friend of " the pure heart and dove-like eyes " 
 had known nine years before, though he had suffered much 
 since then in sharp conflicts with the heresies of the day, and
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 375 
 
 with the spirit of wickedness seated in high places. Great was 
 the joy when the Irish wayfarers were signalled at the abbey 
 gates, and Bishop Malachy stood within the sacred precincts. 
 "He arrived amongst us," says his friend, "like an angel sent 
 by God, and we received him with the reverence due to his 
 sanctity. Though he came from the West, he was truly the 
 dayspring from on high which visited us." Several abbots 
 happened to be at the monastery just then, and a bright holi- 
 day shone upon all. 1 After a few days, however, there super- 
 vened a change. Bishop Malachy fell ill ; and presently, to 
 the grief of the Cistercians and the consternation of the clerics 
 of his company, it became evident that his earthly career was 
 drawing to a close. He himself knew it, and rejoiced that the 
 Lord in His mercy had led him to the place he sought ; that he 
 was to die where fain he would have lived. Bernard and the 
 brethren, and the abbots who had come from afar, hastened 
 to the upper chamber where the bishop lay dying, and, standing 
 round his bed, poured forth their souls in prayer. " With 
 psalms and hymns and spiritual songs," says Bernard, "we 
 followed our friend on his homeward journey. Such grace was 
 in his body, such glory in his face, as even the hand of death 
 could not wipe away. Truly he fell asleep. All eyes were 
 fixed upon him, yet none could say when the spirit left him. 
 The same brightness and serenity were ever visible. He was 
 not changed, but we." 
 
 On the shoulders of abbots the body of the saint was borne 
 to the church ; Bernard offered the Holy Sacrifice for the 
 departed; and when the sacred functions had been brought to 
 a conclusion, the Cistercians buried their beloved guest in a 
 favourite place in the oratory of the Blessed Virgin, where, five 
 years later (1153), they laid their abbot and founder beside him. 2 
 
 1 Among the holy company was St. Gilbert of Sempringham. For an 
 account of the meeting of the saints at Clairvaux, see the beautiful Life of 
 St. Gilbert, by Father Dalgairns. 
 
 2 This account of St. Malachy at Clairvaux is taken in substance from 
 Cotter Morrison's charming book, The Life and Times of St. Bernard; 
 and from Canon O'Hanlon's exhaustive Life of St. Malachy O'Morgair. 
 The latter work, long out of print, contains in full the letters addressed by 
 " Brother Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, to his most beloved father and 
 reverend lord, Malachy, by the grace of God Bishop and Legate of the 
 Holy and Apostolic See"; and also (for the first time translated into 
 English) St. Bernard's two discourses on the life, labours, and virtues of 
 St. Malachy.
 
 376 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 
 
 Before St. Bernard's death, Mellifont had already sent out 
 four important colonies. The abbey of Bective, on the Boyne, 
 was founded by the King of Meath. Baltinglass, on the 
 Slaney, was endowed by Dermod Mac Murrough ; one of the 
 O'Ferralls was the first benefactor of Shreul ; and Nenay, in 
 the county of Limerick, owed its origin to the munificence of 
 Turloch O'Brien. Other abbeys (for the Cistercian houses 
 were all abbeys) arose in quick succession, and Mellifont was 
 the parent of a numerous offspring even before the community 
 had accomplished their task in their own secluded vale, and 
 brought their abbey-church to completion. At length, how- 
 ever, in 1157, the sacred edifice was ready for consecration. 
 The event was one that called forth the generosity of the 
 princes ruling the circumjacent territories, and excited the 
 liveliest interest among the people at large. To add to the 
 solemnity of the occasion, a Synod was convoked for the same 
 date, and prelates and princes were invited to the abbey to 
 deliberate on matters affecting the general welfare of Erin. 
 Thither came Gelasius, the learned and holy Archbishop of 
 Armagh, and Christian O'Conarchy, the first abbot of Melli- 
 font, now head of all the Cistercians in Ireland, Bishop of 
 Lismore, and Legate of the Holy See. Seventeen other 
 bishops responded to the summons, attended by a large 
 following of the clergy of inferior ranks. O'Loughlin, 
 Monarch of Ireland, provincial kings, princes of high stand- 
 ing, chieftains of the Gael, all with their splendid retinue, 
 their military escort, their clansmen and retainers, did honour 
 to the auspicious day, and filled the Cistercian valley with 
 the pomp of royalty, the flash of spears, the joyous movement 
 of a festive crowd. Even the cattle had their place in the 
 processions that advanced towards the abbey, as the donors' 
 herdsmen drove them through the defile, and set them at large 
 to pasture on the well-farmed uplands. As an offering for his 
 soul to God and the monks of Mellifont, the Ard-righ pre- 
 sented on this occasion one hundred and forty oxen, sixty 
 ounces of gold (between two and three thousand pounds of 
 our currency), and a townland near Drogheda. Dermod 
 O'Melachlin, King of Meath ; O'Eochy, King of Down ; 
 Tiernan O'Ruark, Prince of Breffny, each made an offering 
 of sixty ounces of gold ; and the Lady Dervorgilla, with a 
 munificence hardly inferior to that of the monarch himself,
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 377 
 
 bestowed the same amount in gold, presented a gold chalice 
 for the altar of the Virgin, together with chalices, sacred furni- 
 ture, and vestments for the nine other altars erected in the 
 church. 
 
 Dervorgilla's resources were not exhausted by this bestowal, 
 nor was her generous hand thereafter stayed. As a benefactor 
 her name is associated with another great religious establish- 
 ment, namely, that of the Seven Churches at Clonmacnoise. 
 Among the striking group of ecclesiastical ruins overlooking 
 the wide expanse of the Shannon, antiquaries distinguish, as 
 the most beautiful relic of all, the doorway of the Gothic 
 chapel which the Princess of Breffny built for the community 
 of nuns who had their habitation within the sacred enclosure. 
 The monuments of early days, massed on the riverside, pre- 
 serve the memory of her race. One of the churches is called 
 the " Church of the Kings," for it was built by the O'Melach- 
 lins and chosen as their burial-place. Among the crosses is 
 one named after them ; and a heap of tumbled fortress-work 
 is pointed out as the site of their castle. Her husband's 
 family, if popular nomenclature may be relied on, appear to 
 have had some connection with Clonmacnoise, which, indeed, 
 was the favourite burial-place of the kings, princes, and 
 chieftains of the country. The great round tower is styled 
 O'Ruark's. 
 
 Turning to the Annals of the Four Masters for the record 
 of Dervorgilla's death, we find the following brief entry, under 
 the date A.D. 1193: Derforghaill, wife of Tiarnan O'Rourke, 
 and daughter of Murchadh O'Maoileachlainn, died in the 
 monastery of Droicheat Atha, in the eighty-fifth year of her 
 age. There can be no doubt that the " Monastery of Drog- 
 heda" signifies the abbey at Mellifont. Later compilers of 
 history, supplementing this bald statement, hazarded the 
 incredible conjecture that Dervorgilla spent the last years of 
 her life in cloistral seclusion and penitential atonement for her 
 sins in the Cistercian house ; while inquirers of a still more 
 venturous turn improved the occasion by indicating some 
 dungeon -like excavations, discovered among the monastic 
 ruins, as the probable scene of her expiatory austerities. The 
 idea of the Lady Dervorgilla, or any other woman, taking up 
 her abode within the Cistercian precincts was simply absurd, 
 especially as religious retreats for women abounded in Ireland,
 
 3?S THE LADY DERVORGILLA 
 
 and there would have been no need in that age of the world 
 to seek a cell on the monks' premises. Still, the Four Masters 
 had set down in all soberness a very strange thing, and no 
 explanation was forthcoming. Meanwhile, however, new 
 sources of historic lore turned up. The Annals of Lough Ce, 
 lately rendered accessible to other besides Celtic scholars, 
 while leaving the record of the Four Masters undisturbed 
 in its solid truth, light up the mystery in a phrase. Thus 
 writes the ancient chronicler: Derbhorcaitty daughter of 
 Murchadh O Maelsethlainn mortua est in pilgrimage in the 
 Monastery of Drouhet-atha. Furthermore, continuing our 
 search in a retrograde direction through the same body of 
 annals, we find that this pious expedition to Mellifont was not 
 the only one undertaken to the same sanctuary by the Princess 
 of Breffny. It appears that she had also made a pilgrimage to 
 the abbey in the year i 189.* 
 
 From what quarter of Erin did this aged pilgrim set forth 
 on her last journey through the land? Not, I should say, 
 from any part of the already extinct kingdom of Meath. 
 O'Melachlin's regal sway had ended in a dire convulsion. 
 The fair wide territory ruled by her father, her brother, and 
 her kinsmen of a more remote degree, had been given by 
 Henry Fitz-Empress to his liegeman, Hugh de Lacy. Mail- 
 clad foreigners rode rough-shod across the plains, held the 
 strong places, and fed on the fat of the land. From the 
 Shannon to the sea, the Lord Palatine's castles bristled on the 
 land, and bade defiance to every assertion of primeval right 
 No doubt the pilgrim's equipment would then, as in other evil 
 days, pass the devotee throughout a hostile territory; and 
 Dervorgilla with her attendants may have traversed Meath 
 without encountering molestation. But it seems highly im- 
 probable that her place of residence was in those parts. 
 
 Breffhy, on the contrary, remained intact Dermod Mac 
 Murrough, fired with the old passion of hatred and revenge, 
 had invaded the principality in conjunction with the foreigners ; 
 but the clan O'Ruark had twice routed the intruders, and a 
 chief of the name ruled the wild region without dispute. We 
 
 1 The Annals of Lough Ce, edited, with a translation, by William M. 
 Hennessy, M.R.I.A. Published by the authority of the Lords Commis- 
 sioners of Her Majesty's Treasury, under the direction of the Master of 
 the Rolls.
 
 THE LADY DERVORGILLA 379 
 
 may safely assume, therefore, that in the well-defended terri- 
 tory lying about Dromahaire, the Lady Dervorgilla had her 
 home. 
 
 Though she had already passed the term of middle age 
 when the Anglo-Norman invaders, with swift destructive 
 onslaught, seized the rich patrimonies of the Gaelic chiefs 
 and demolished the ancient State, she still lived on until all 
 the prime agents in that catastrophe had vanished in their 
 turn through the gates of death King Dermod and Earl 
 Strongbow, Fitz-Stephen and De Lacy, Henry Fitz-Empress 
 himself. Those, too, among the native princes who had 
 striven to arrest the torrent of destruction had likewise dis- 
 appeared. Her husband had been cut down at the Hill of 
 Ward by the new lords of Meath. His head, "a woeful 
 spectacle to the Irish," 1 was spiked over the northern gate 
 of Dublin, "exposed on that side of the stronghold of the 
 stranger which looks towards the pleasant plains of Meath and 
 the verdant uplands of Cavan." 2 
 
 Fortunate in the circumstances of her death, the Lady 
 Dervorgilla's last journey to the Cistercian valley brought to a 
 close the pilgrimage of her earthly life. What were the last 
 objects that greeted those failing eyes ? The gently receding 
 hills guarding the vale of rest ; the stately monastery, raised 
 stone upon stone by the sons of Malachy and Bernard ; the 
 abbey church, upon whose several altars she had laid her gifts ! 
 And what were the last echoes that fell on those life-wearied 
 ears ? The peaceful sounds of labour in the fields, the chants 
 of the choral service borne upon the breeze, the heaven- 
 appealing clangour of the bells ! 
 
 The honourable sepulture due to a friend and benefactor 
 was gratefully given to her by the monks. With a strong- 
 voiced Miserere and a whispered Requiescat^ they laid her in 
 the consecrated soil, there to mingle dust with dust, there to 
 await " the morning of the Resurrection." 
 
 1 Annals of the Four Masters. * M 'Ghee's History of Ireland.
 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 ALTHOUGH the abduction of the Lady Dervorgilla was not the 
 cause of the irruption of a host of military adventurers and the 
 dissolution of the ancient order in the Island of the Gael, the 
 audacity of the outrage, nevertheless, spread east and west a 
 sinister impression, and drew down on the perpetrator a heavy 
 chastisement. Insult being added by this act to the injuries 
 already inflicted on the Prince of Breffny by the potentate of 
 Leinster, O'Ruark's vindictive passions were naturally aroused 
 to the maddening point. Distinguished as a military chief, and 
 supported, as a matter of course, by his father-in-law the King 
 of Meath, he yet could have little hope of making Dermod 
 Mac Murrough feel the weight of his avenging arm as long as 
 Turlough O'Conor, King of Connaught and Monarch of Ireland, 
 remained indifferent to his cause or stood in array against him. 
 O'Conor had now for more than forty years occupied the 
 position of reigning sovereign of the western province ; and 
 during the last seventeen years he had been, sometimes with 
 and sometimes without opposition, paramount lord of all Ire- 
 land. He and Mac Murrough had maintained a close alliance, 
 cementing their friendship in kingly fashion. As brothers they 
 had striven together in cruel foray and in unrighteous aggres- 
 sion. Partaking of one another's crimes, they had shared the 
 plunder which their red hands had seized. In dismembering 
 Munster, in dividing Meath, in threatening Ulster, the Ard-righ 
 had had the assistance, or the countenance, of the King of 
 Leinster. About two years before this time they had marched 
 side by side at the head of a powerful armament, to desolate 
 the southern province ; and at the battle of Maonmore, Der-
 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 381 
 
 mod Mac Murrough bore a conspicuous part in routing King 
 O'Brien, and slaughtering the brave Dalcassians who, accord- 
 ing to their wont, would neither fly from the field nor ask 
 for quarter. 1 Still later, these sceptred raiders had made a 
 hostile incursion into O'Ruark's territory, defeated the chief, 
 and wrested from him a part of his inheritance. 
 
 Under these circumstances it might seem a hopeless task to 
 endeavour to detach the Ard-righ from the Leinster alliance, 
 and induce him to espouse the cause of a prince whom he had 
 himself so recently assailed. However, O'Ruark was no mean 
 hand at intrigue, as the event proved. He had the address to 
 persuade O'Conor that Mac Murrough secretly favoured the 
 pretensions of the Princes of Aileach to the sovereign authority, 
 and that when the next contest for supremacy should convulse 
 the island, King Dermod, if not sufficiently humbled mean- 
 while, would support the northern dynast, O'Loughlin, and 
 thus throw a considerable weight into the scale in opposition 
 to the Connaught claims. Turlough, though already on the 
 brink of the grave, had lost none of the ambition of his earlier 
 days. That which he could not expect to enjoy much longer 
 himself, he yet hoped to secure for his dynasty. To weaken 
 O'Loughlin, Prince of Aileach, would certainly be desirable. 
 To humble, and if possible subdue, Mac Murrough would seem 
 at this juncture to be a stroke of good policy. Moreover, the 
 King of Leinster had given cause of umbrage to the monarch 
 by undertaking, on his own account solely, this latest attack on 
 the Prince of Breffny. He had not only carried away O'Ruark's 
 wife, but he had wasted and spoiled O'Ruark's territory with a 
 thoroughness that showed how little romance had to do with 
 the expedition. 
 
 And so it turned out that when Dervorgilla's enraged father, 
 and her injured husband, appealed to the supreme authority for 
 vengeance on the abductor, the Ard-righ, " moved with honour 
 and compassion," undertook to redress the wrongs of the claim- 
 ants, made no account of his late companion in arms, and called 
 out an army to invade Leinster in conjunction with O'Ruark. 
 
 1 In this battle the army of the south lost 7000 men. Every leading 
 house in North Munster mourned the loss of either its chief or its tanist ; 
 some great families lost three, five, or seven brothers on that sanguinary 
 day. The household of Kinkora (royal residence of the O'Briens) was left 
 without an heir, and many a near kinsman's seat was vacant in its hospit- 
 able hall. M 'Gee's History of Ireland.
 
 382 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 Dermod, enthroned in his capital city, " Ferns the stately," 
 and lording it over an "extensive land of wealthy warriors," 
 might probably have defied the O'Conors and O'Ruarks in 
 coalition had he been wise enough to have secured the 
 allegiance of the subordinate princes and tributary chiefs of 
 the province. But his barbarous treatment of some, and his 
 tyrannical oppression of all, had so alienated his natural 
 supporters that they were disposed to withdraw from him in 
 his season of distress, and make common cause with his 
 enemies. He had laid a heavy hand on the Danes of Dublin 
 in revenge of their treacherous slaying of his father, and had 
 continued to grind them with excessive imposts. O'Moore, 
 Lord of Leix, with whom he was closely connected by marriage, 
 he had loaded with fetters and blinded, " against the guarantee 
 of the laiety and clergy." The Lord of Hy-Faelain (O'Byrne's 
 country), and Murrough, a chief of the O'Tooles, he had killed ; 
 and by treachery or force he had got into his power the Lord of 
 Feara Cualann (Wicklow) and a number of other chieftains, all 
 of whom he deprived of life or sight. Between him and the 
 most powerful of his tributaries, the King of Ossory, a feud of 
 the deadliest character had long existed. When, therefore, the 
 Ard-righ sent messengers to the Leinster chiefs and princes, 
 his envoys met with a favourable reception. Mac Turkill, 
 King of Dublin and Fingall; Mac Gillopadrigh, King of Ossory ; 
 and the powerful septs of the O'Byrnes of Wicklow, falling in 
 with O'Conor's plans, forthwith "turned heads upon their lord, 
 King Dermod." In the following year (1154) a strong force 
 was led into Leinster, O'Ruark took his revenge, plundering 
 both churches and territories, and the Lady Dervorgilla, with 
 her stock and valuables, was conveyed back to Meath. Fearing 
 that his stronghold at Ferns might fall into the hands of his 
 enemies, Dermod fired the city, and, in so doing, caused the 
 destruction of the abbey founded by St. Aidan six hundred 
 years before. Deserted and defeated, the King of Leinster 
 had a hard time to pass for about two years. 
 
 But then there came a change in the condition of things. In 
 1156 Turlough O'Conor was gathered to his forefathers, and laid 
 to rest near the high altar in the cathedral of Clonmacnoise. 1 
 
 1 His father, Roderick O'Conor, died in the monastery of Clonmacnoise, 
 where he resided after he had been blinded by the O'Flahertys, a powerful 
 sept of the West, who always resisted the authority of the O'Conors.
 
 383 
 
 The historians of his principality styled him Great, eulo- 
 gised his kingly qualities, and enumerated the magnificent 
 bequests which he made to different churches : gold and silver, 
 steeds and cattle, chessboards and arms, robes and cups, and 
 precious stones. Nevertheless, he was vainglorious, unscrup- 
 ulous, and on occasions treacherous. His long reign was 
 spent in strife, in sowing dissensions, and in molesting his 
 fellow - princes. [n vain the Primate Gelasius and other 
 prelates of the Church exerted their influence in behalf of 
 Murrough O'Melachlin, King of Meath, whom O'Conor seized 
 in spite of solemn guarantees, and robbed of his inheritance. 
 One of his own sons was blinded by his orders ; and another, 
 Roderick, whom he put in fetters more than once, was not 
 released from his last incarceration until the prelates, clergy, 
 and chieftains of Connaught had held a public fast at the Rath 
 of St. Brendan, and besought heaven to mollify the inexorable 
 father's heart. No idea of enlightened patriotism seems ever 
 to have crossed King Turlough's mind, nor would it appear 
 that even the mistaken notion that his crimes might benefit 
 the nation, was at any time harboured in his breast. The 
 slaying, the spoiling, the dividing, were all for the aggrandise- 
 ment of the O'Conors. 
 
 And yet the policy so unscrupulously sustained, proved 
 unsuccessful. High rose the sun at Aileach when O'Conor's 
 funeral rites were ended. With less bloodshed and contention 
 than was usual on the accession of a new monarch to the throne 
 of Ireland, the supreme power passed into O'Loughlin's hands, 
 and the O'Conors were obliged to decline for a time into a 
 provincial rank. Roderick succeeded his father as King of 
 Connaught. To make his throne secure, he began his reign by 
 imprisoning three of his brothers, one of whom he blinded ; 
 and as he did not relinquish the hope of ultimately acquiring 
 the pre-eminent position which his father had enjoyed, he 
 endeavoured by treaties, intrigues, and coalitions to strengthen 
 the O'Conor interests. There was a pacific meeting, as the 
 annalists record, between Roderick O'Conor and Tiernan 
 O'Ruark, and they took mutual oaths to. support one another 
 before sureties and relics. There were hostile meetings, too, 
 between the forces of these allies and O'Loughlin's troops. 
 For a time the west and north were in strife, but the Conna- 
 ceans got the worst of the encounter. O'Ruark in the end
 
 384 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 made peace with the conquerors, " so that his own land was 
 left to him''; and Roderick was obliged to deliver up hostages 
 to the Ard-righ. That he did not, therefore, sheath his sword, 
 he plainly showed by proceeding to throw a bridge across the 
 Shannon at Athlone, "that he might have a passage to take the 
 spoils of Meath." After a battle with the forces of Meath, 
 marched to the spot to prevent the execution of his project, he 
 succeeded in spanning the strong current of the stream. 1 
 From his vast stronghold at the head of Lough Swilly, the 
 Monarch O'Loughlin held the petty princes in awe, and 
 domineered over the provincial kings. In the later years of 
 his reign he had, it is said, the hostages of all Ireland in his 
 hands. 
 
 Among the first of the provincial princes who delivered up 
 hostages and acknowledged the supremacy of O'Loughlin, was 
 the harassed King of Leinster. His timely submission was 
 well received and promptly rewarded. An army was sent to 
 his assistance, and in a short time he found himself restored to 
 his rightful position. Together the monarch and Mac Murrough 
 made an incursion into Ossory and Leix, burning up all before 
 them, and obliging the O'Moores and Killpatricks to fly across 
 the Shannon into Connaught. Through their united efforts they 
 succeeded in expelling from Leinster the son of Mac Phealain, 
 who had been established there by O'Conor and O'Ruark. 
 Later on, the Danes of Dublin were brought to their knees, 
 forced to give Derrnod a tribute of 1200 cows, and compelled 
 to acknowledge him as lord paramount. Thus reinstated and 
 supported by the highest authority in the land, the King of 
 Leinster might very well have exercised some regal wisdom in 
 conciliating his disaffected subordinates, and obliterating in a 
 degree the memory of his earlier oppressions. At anyrate, he 
 might have established a politic peace with the neighbouring 
 rulers. But he was deficient in tact, temper, prudence ; pre- 
 datory expeditions continued to be his delight, and tyranny his 
 practice. 
 
 In this our "Age of Whitewash " more difficult things have 
 
 1 Roderick's father had likewise made a passage over this part of the 
 Shannon, and for a like purpose. These structures, according to the best 
 authorities, consisted of a rude crossing of hurdles and stems of trees carried 
 over piles of stones laid in a fordable pass of the river, and covered with 
 clay and gravel. They could easily be destroyed by a hostile party, and 
 were sometimes broken down by a cattle-spoil driven across the causeway.
 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 385 
 
 perhaps been attempted than the clearing of Dermod Mac 
 Murrough's character from sundry of the aspersions cast by 
 common consent upon it. I have no fancy to attempt such an 
 undertaking. However, I must say that I think it would be 
 no easy matter to prove that he was much worse than his con- 
 temporaries. In cold-blooded treachery he was outdone by 
 O'Loughlin. In profligacy he had more than a match in 
 Roderick O'Conor. Assuredly, he was guilty of a sacrilegious 
 and unheard-of deed when, in 1135, he forcibly took the 
 Abbess of Kildare out of her cloister, compelled her to marry 
 one of his own people, and killed 170 of the inhabitants of the 
 town and monastery who rose in defence of their abbess. 1 But 
 we have a pendant for this atrocity in Tiernan O'Ruark's 
 outrage in 1128 on the Archbishop of Armagh "an ugly, 
 ruthless, unprecedented deed, which earned the malediction of 
 the men of Erin, both lay and clerical." 2 The barbarous 
 practice of blinding was not indulged in by Dermod alone. It 
 was in those days a usual way of incapacitating a rival from 
 reigning, unfitting an opponent to command, or injuring an 
 enemy of any kind. It was common in Ireland, had prevailed 
 in England from an earlier period, and was so usual among the 
 Normans that some writers have hazarded the suggestion that 
 it was probably an invention of that chivalrous race. However 
 this may be, the princes of the Norman and Plantagenet lines 
 were experts in its use. Henry i., as everyone will remember, 
 disposed of his eldest brother's claims to the throne of England 
 by imprisoning him for life, and causing his eyes to be put out. 
 Death or blindness, says Lingard, or perpetual imprisonment, 
 were the usual portion of those who offended Beauclerc ; and 
 it is on record that he extinguished the sight of a poet who had 
 satirised him, in order that other versifiers might learn what 
 they must expect if they displeased the King of England. 3 
 Henry n., to punish the Cambrians who had risen up against 
 him, treated his numerous hostages, the children of the noblest 
 families in Wales, with shocking barbarity, causing the eyes of 
 all the males to be rooted out, " satiating himself with blood, 
 and covering himself with infamy." 4 William the Conqueror 
 doomed his fellow-creatures to blindness for lesser offences and 
 on slighter provocation. In his kingly solicitude for the pre- 
 
 1 Annals of Clonmacnoise. - Annals of Lough Ce. 
 
 3 History of England. 4 History of England. 
 
 2 5
 
 386 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 servation of the game in the large forests for the deer which he 
 made, he enacted that " whoever killed a hart or a hind should 
 be blinded." 1 The invaders of Ireland did not relinquish the 
 practice in the country they overran. A notable instance 
 occurred in 1250, when "The hostages of Connaught were 
 blinded by the English at Athlone."- 
 
 In point of fact, King Dermod of Leinster bore a family 
 resemblance to the princes of his nation, and to those of the 
 world at large, in his day. Seeing that he was so quarrelsome 
 with his fellow-magnates, and so ferocious in his enmities, 
 one cannot, perhaps, help fancying that when he was left un- 
 disturbed in his own territory, his immediate subjects must 
 have passed a terrible time under his personal sway. Not 
 quite so, however. On closer inquiry, it appears that while he 
 exasperated the tributary chieftains by his rapacious levies, he 
 was generous in his benefactions to the poor, and favoured the 
 commonalty in an unusual degree. The mass of the people 
 seem to have been attracted rather than repelled by the atti- 
 tude of barbaric strength which he maintained. His towering 
 stature, his stentorian voice, hoarse from shouting in battle, 
 his valour, and his capacity for command in war, impressed 
 them favourably ; and they observed with satisfaction that he 
 was not one of those princes who from preference victimise the 
 meaner sort of men. It must be remembered that in the Ire- 
 land of that day, as in far earlier times, the people had safe- 
 guards which protected them in a considerable degree from the 
 violence and caprice of despots ; else, indeed, how would it 
 have been possible for them to live in the midst of the incessant 
 commotion kept up by the sanguinary feuds of contentious 
 rulers, and under a political condition bordering on anarchy ? 
 The feudal system of serfdom and vassalage had not yet super- 
 seded the patriarchal state of society. The land belonged not 
 to the chief, but to the sept ; neither petty prince nor superior 
 king had any power to oust a clansman from his home or starve 
 him in his cabin. Justice between man and man was ad- 
 ministered according to the Brehon code, by judges who had 
 undergone a long and hard course of study, who were not 
 
 1 See the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. " He loved the tall stags," says the 
 annalist, "as if he were their father; and also appointed concerning the 
 hares that they should go free." 
 
 - Annals of the Four Masters.
 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 387 
 
 appointed by the will of the prince, and who could not be 
 removed at his pleasure. Again, the learned bodies the 
 ollaves or poet-philosophers, the historians and antiquaries, the 
 bards, grouped in families and occupying an elevated and in- 
 dependent position wielded a very strong power ; and while 
 enjoying a well-established immunity from legal imposts, and 
 from disturbance even in periods of civil strife, were in a 
 position to extend protection to the lowly and defenceless, 
 who, when pursued by an enemy, might claim sanctuary within 
 the demesne lands set apart for the maintenance of the literary 
 classes. Dermod of Leinster, even in his most ungovernable 
 moods, never would have dared to put out the eyes of a poet 
 of the Gael. Lastly, the religious establishments conferred the 
 greatest benefits on the people tenanting their lands, as well as 
 those living in their vicinity; they stood, someone has well 
 said, as a rampart between the oppressed and the oppressor ; 
 their precincts were held sacred by the princes who were the 
 donors of them, and even by hostile armaments invading the 
 circumjacent territory. Schools were kept open in the monas- 
 teries, to which all were welcome, the lowly and the high-born 
 standing in the same class, and singing in the same choir. In 
 seasons of scarcity, there was corn in the granaries to feed the 
 distressed. In days of warfare, an inviolable peace reigned 
 within the termons, as the demesnes of church and monastery 
 were called. The tenants on such lands enjoyed the benefit 
 of sanctuary in whatever part of the property they dwelt ; while 
 all, without distinction, even those who were not tenants on the 
 termon lands, were admitted to sanctuary within the ground im- 
 mediately surrounding the sacred edifice, and were allowed, on 
 the approach of danger, to store provisions and other property on 
 the premises. Furthermore, ecclesiastics enjoyed the privilege 
 of personal sanctuary even outside the precincts of their churches 
 and monasteries. No bloodthirsty chief or fiery kerne would 
 venture to strike down a fugitive in the arms of a priest or monk. 
 Dermod's favourite residence was at Ferns, the seat of 
 government of the Mac Murroughs of Hy-Kinselagh. 1 On an 
 
 1 Hy-Kinselagh contained a great part of the county of Wexford, and 
 some adjoining parts of Carlow, Wicklow, Kilkenny, and Queen's County. 
 It was the patrimony of Dermod's family. His full title would run thus : 
 Dermod Mac Murrough O'Cavanagh, Prince of Hy-Kinselagh, King of 
 Leinster and the Danes.
 
 388 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 eminence stood the royal fortress, with its formidable earth- 
 works, and its dun -like aspect. Close by rose the abbey, 
 which in 1161 he erected in the place of the ancient edifice 
 destroyed in the conflagration already referred to. A com- 
 munity of canons regular of St. Augustine were in possession 
 of the new monastery, and their maintenance was provided for 
 by an endowment of six extensive townlands. In the lower 
 ground rose the city, properly so-called, an assemblage of 
 wattle structures, easily consumed by fire, but also easily re- 
 built Far beyond the boundaries of Leinster, Ferns was 
 regarded with religious veneration on account of its holy well, 
 its sacred shrines, and its intimate association with saints of 
 the olden time. Here St. Aiden (or Maidoc) formed his 
 monastic establishment in the sixth century, and here he fixed 
 the seat of his bishopric. This, too, was his burial-place, 
 and that of his successor, St. Molin. 1 St. David of Menevia 
 received special honour in Ferns, as the teacher and beloved 
 friend of St. Aiden ; and constant intercourse had been kept up 
 throughout the ages between the holy men of Wales and those 
 of Ferns, in pious memory of the friendship that united the 
 patron saint of Cambria and the founder of the Metropolitan 
 See of Leinster. At one time, it is said, fifty bishops came 
 from Wales on a pilgrimage to Ferns; and we are not sur- 
 prised to learn that Lagenian devotees crossed over in crowds 
 to pay their vows at St. David's shrine. 
 
 Naturally, the Augustinians regarded King Dermod with 
 kindly feelings, and the grateful consideration due to a gene- 
 rous benefactor. Later on, the canons of Ferns Abbey, and 
 members of the ancient Order in another land, had it in their 
 power to do him good service, and did not suffer the oppor- 
 tunity to slip by unutilised. But the Augustinians were not 
 the only religious body that considered it a duty to pray for 
 Mac Murrough when the great oblation was offered on their 
 altars for the living and the dead. The Cistercians were 
 indebted to him for one of the first foundations planted from 
 Mellifont, that of the Abbey de Valle Salutis, situated on the 
 banks of the Slaney at Baltinglass. The introduction into a 
 territory of a colony of "grey monks of the Order of the 
 
 1 Among the treasures of the Royal Irish Academy are the shrine and 
 the bell of St. Aiden. In the Library of Trinity College is preserved the 
 Evangelistarium of St. Molin, with its ancient box.
 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 389 
 
 Desert," as an ancient chronicler styles the Cistercian family, 
 might well be regarded as an act worthy of a statesman, for 
 these men who sat down in waste places and beautified the 
 wilderness by their skilful toil were bright exemplars to rich 
 and poor. "Agriculture," says D'Arcy M'Gee, "seems first 
 to have been lifted into respectability by the Cistercian 
 monks." x 
 
 Whether the nunnery of St. Mary of Hoges, so-called from 
 an adjoining village, owed its establishment directly to Dermod 
 Mac Murrough, or was simply indebted to him for considerable 
 endowments, I cannot say. Probably one of his immediate 
 predecessors in the sovereignty was the actual founder. The 
 nunnery grounds, the gift of the kings of Leinster, lay near the 
 Danish city of Dublin, covering the area between the present 
 College Green and St. Stephen's Green, and running eastward 
 alongside of our College Park. Near the site now covered by 
 the Protestant Church of St. Andrew stood the buildings 
 occupied by the nuns, canonesses of the Order of St. Augus- 
 tine, who formed a community composed " not of the younger 
 sort, but of elderlike persons who desired to live single after the 
 death or separation of their husbands." 2 As a dependent cell 
 to St. Mary's, Dermod Mac Murrough founded, in 1151, the 
 nunnery, sometimes called De Bello Portu, on the west side of 
 the river Suir, opposite the King's Tower in Waterford. An- 
 other dependency of the same establishment, situated in the 
 county of Carlow, is also named as having been founded by 
 him about the same time. 
 
 But the religious house with which the King of Leinster's 
 name is more frequently associated, and the one that was the 
 last to receive a founder's endowments from him, was the priory 
 of All-Hallows, situated near Dublin, and in the same quarter 
 as the nunnery of St. Mary. According to the Annals of 
 Leinster, Dermod Mac Murrough having become ill during a visit 
 to Dublin in 1166, called all his priests about him and made a 
 
 1 Life of Art Mac Murrough. 
 
 2 See Haliday's Scandinavian Kingdom of Dublin, edited by John P. 
 Prendergast. The author remarks that the statement quoted above, from a 
 manuscript in the British Museum, "respecting the class of females inhabit- 
 ing the nunnery, is supported by the fact that the ground on which the 
 nunnery stood is called 'Mynechens Mantle,' and its possessions Munchens 
 fields, thereby making it the residence not of young nuns, but of those 
 elderly nuns of the superior class, termed Mynechens by Du Cange."
 
 390 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 vow, if he recovered, to build a religious house on the spot 
 where he lay sick. 1 The king recovered ; and soon after, 
 having succeeded in taking hostages from O'Carroll, Prince of 
 Uriel (Louth), he endowed a monastery on the specified site 
 for canons of St. Augustine brought thither from some part of 
 O'Carroll's territory. The monastic buildings were erected on 
 the place where Trinity College now stands. The grounds 
 extended to the Anna Liffey, and ran eastward between the 
 river and the demesne of St. Mary's nunnery. By the founda- 
 tion charter, 2 the King of Leinster, for the love of God and his 
 soul's salvation, "grants to his spiritual father and confessor, 
 Edan, Bishop of Louth," for the use of the canons, the lands 
 of Baldoyle, with their serfs and descendants, their issue and 
 offspring, present and future ; and commands all Leinster and 
 Dublin men quietly to secure to the same bishop and his 
 canons, and their successors, the aforesaid lands, to be held 
 and possessed for ever, etc. Among the witnesses to this 
 charter were St. Laurence O'Toole (Laurentio Dublin); the 
 Abbot of Glendalough (Benigno Abbate de Glendolacha), and 
 the king's son (Enna figlio meo). Additional grants were soon 
 after conferred on the priory of All-Hallows, including the 
 townlands of Clonturk (Drumcondra) and Donnycarney near 
 Dublin, and other more remotely situated possessions, towns 
 and granges, with their oblations, tithes in woods, pastures, 
 wells, waters, fisheries, and so forth. The bishop, whom 
 Dermot in his charter styles his spiritual father and confessor, 
 was Edan O'Kelly, a very distinguished ecclesiastic, the 
 successor in the See of Louth (Clogher) of Christian 
 O'Morgair, the brother of St. Malachy. He was consecrated 
 in 1139, by the saint whose scholar he had been. The Four 
 Masters, in recording the death of Bishop Edan, under the 
 date 1182, call him the Chief Canon of Ireland. From this, 
 and from the fact that the new religious house of All-Hallows 
 was given to him, we must suppose that he was head of the 
 Augustinians in Ireland. 3 
 
 1 Quoted by Haliday. 
 
 2 See Dugdale's Monasticon Anglicanum, vol. vi. 
 
 3 King Henry n. confirmed the grants made by Dermod Mac Murrough 
 to the priory of All-Hallows. At the dissolution of monasteries in the 
 reign of Henry vin., these possessions were handed over to the Mayor and 
 citizens of Dublin, in compensation for the losses sustained in the rebellion 
 of Lord Thomas Fitzgerald. Later, Adam Ix>ftus, by the grace of Queen
 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 391 
 
 Thus, bountiful to people of low degree, and munificent in 
 his gifts to religious establishments, Dermod Mac Murrough 
 had secured the goodwill of two powerful bodies in the State 
 the mass of the population and the ecclesiastical fraternity. 
 There remained another extremely influential party, namely, 
 the Bardic order, including the professors in each branch of 
 learning ; and the king had won over this important class, we 
 must conclude, by an enlightened patronage, for no trace can 
 be discovered of his having provoked the enmity of the poet- 
 satirists, or incurred the displeasure of the savans of his day. 
 A most interesting example of the literary work of that period, 
 and a memorial of Dermod's appreciation of the labours of the 
 learned, has come down to us in the Book of Leinster, one of 
 the treasures in the rich store of Irish literature preserved in 
 Trinity College. This precious volume is not one of "the 
 countless hosts of the illuminated books of Erin." It is an 
 unadorned compilation of historical and topographical tracts, 
 genealogies, calendars of saints, and Irish versions of mediaeval 
 writings. It contains poems in great number, amongst them 
 compositions of every date, from Duvach, royal poet of the 
 Monarch of Ireland and St. Patrick's first convert at Tara, 
 down to O'Dunn, chief poet of Leinster in Dermod's reign. 
 Altogether, this " heirloom of history " forms, according to the 
 highest authority, " the largest and perhaps the most valuable 
 collection surviving, both in prose and verse, of ancient Gaelic 
 literature." l 
 
 The Book of Leinster was compiled for Dermod Mac 
 Murrough under the superintendence of his tutor, Hugh Mac 
 Crimthan, the chief historian of Leinster, by Finn Mac Gorman, 
 afterwards Bishop of Kildare. On the top margin of one of the 
 pages is a memorandum written in a strange but ancient hand 
 
 Elizabeth Archbishop of Dublin, prevailed on the Corporation to bestow 
 the monastery of All--Hallows and all its precincts on the College of the 
 Holy and Undivided Trinity founded by Her Majesty. The Corporation 
 are still the chief proprietors of the fee of the parishes of Baldoyle, Donny- 
 carney, and Cloniurk or Drumcondra. The great Missionary College of 
 All- Hallows links the apostolic work of Catholic Ireland in our own day with 
 the religious foundation of the tw elfth century. The institution stands on 
 ground given to the priory by Dermod Mac Murrough; and this ground 
 was obtained on lease from the Corporation, through the influence of 
 Daniel O'Connell, the first Catholic Lord Mayor of Dublin after 
 Emancipation. 
 1 Dr. J. T. Gilbert's Facsimiles of Ancient Irish Manuscripts.
 
 392 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 an apostrophe addressed to the Virgin Mary concerning " a 
 great deed that has been done in Erin this day, the kalends of 
 August " : Dermod, King of Leinster and of the Danes, " has 
 been banished over the sea eastwards by the men of Erin." l 
 About three years ago the poetic contents of this "time- 
 blackened volume " were brought under the notice of students 
 in a striking way. Professor Atkinson, in the course of a 
 Lecture on the Metrical Laws of Irish Poetry, the first of a 
 course on Celtic Philology delivered in Trinity College, declared 
 it to be his belief that Irish verse was the most perfectly 
 harmonious combination of sound the world has ever known, 
 that, in fact, he knew nothing in the world's literature like it ; 
 and having gone on to show what was the Irish equivalent for 
 rhyme, " Something infinitely more varied, that lends itself to 
 a far richer series of harmonies than mere rhyme can present," 
 proceeded to delight his audience with alliteration, assonance, 
 and versification taken from poems preserved in the Book of 
 Leinster. 
 
 Little, comparatively speaking, is known of Dermod Mac 
 Murrough's domestic relations. Authorities agree that his first 
 wife was Cacht, the daughter of O'Moore, Prince of Leix. It 
 would appear that he married, secondly, Mor O'Toole, whose 
 father, Murchertach, chief of Hy-Murray, the southern half of 
 Kildare, was married to a daughter of O'Byrne, a neighbouring 
 chieftain. The Lady Moi^s brother, Lorchan (or Laurence), 
 the distinguished Abbot of Glendalough, who at a later period 
 was taken from his monastic seclusion in the Wicklow moun- 
 tains and installed, as the old writers have it, " Archbishop of 
 the Danes and of Leinster," had suffered much in his youth 
 from Dermod ; for the king having got the chieftain's son into 
 his hands, treated the boy with great cruelty, sending him to 
 dwell in a desert place, where he was half-starved and ill-clothed 
 during a captivity of two years. If the Lady Mor resembled her 
 brother, St. Laurence, in manner and in person, she must have 
 been sweet and gracious, dignified and handsome. However, 
 her married life was not happy. Dermod, it is said, deserted 
 her, and proceeded to negotiate a marriage with the daughter 
 of O'Carroll, Prince of Oriel. Under these circumstances she 
 disappeared one night ; and it was not known where she lay 
 concealed until many years later, when, on coming out of the 
 1 O'Curry, Lectures on the MS. Materials of Ancient Irish History,
 
 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 393 
 
 nunnery of St. Mary to attend a Requiem Office for her 
 brother the archbishop, who had closed his earthly pilgrimage 
 some time before at Eu in Normandy, she was seen and 
 recognised. 1 
 
 Dermod Mac Murrough had several sons whom he recog- 
 nised. Enna, Conor, Art, and Donald Cavanagh are men- 
 tioned. According to Dr. O' Donovan, Conor was the only 
 son born in wedlock, while other authorities claim this 
 distinction for Enna, the ancestor of the Kinsellas and some 
 branches of the Mac Kennas. This prince was elected tanist, 
 or heir-apparent to the throne of Leinster, and continued to 
 occupy that rank until he was blinded by Mac Gillopadrigh, 
 King of Ossory, in 1 166. Art is named by certain historians as 
 having been among the hostages of Leinster slain at Athlone 
 in 1170 by Roderick O'Conor. Undoubtedly, the most 
 distinguished of the above - named princes was Donald 
 Cavanagh, sometimes surnamed the Handsome. He was a 
 gallant warrior and a trusty lieutenant of the king, standing 
 faithfully by his father in seasons of trouble, and fighting man- 
 fully by his side or in his cause when armies were in the field. 
 From him directly descend the Kavanaghs of Leinster 
 Arthur Mac Murrough Kavanagh of Borris being now chief 
 of the name. 
 
 The only daughter of King Dermod was Aife or Eva, the 
 
 1 Haliday, Scandinavian Kingdom of Dublin. The ancient authority 
 quoted in this work says that Mor O'Toole had taken with her in her flight 
 a quantity of valuable property. The insinuation is, that the property was 
 the king's. We should rather suppose that in this case, as in that of the 
 Lady Dervorgilla, the fugitive took only what was her own by the law of 
 the Brehons. The Requiem Office which the nun of St. Mary's came out 
 to attend, took place no doubt either in the priory of All-Hallows, close to 
 the nunnery, or in the cathedral church of the Holy Trinity (now Christ 
 Church), within the walls of Dublin. Wherever performed, the celebration 
 must have been of the most solemn and affecting character ; for the choral 
 service in the cathedral and in the priory had been greatly improved by 
 St. Laurence, who, "being a pious and devout man, constant in divine 
 offices, and a lover of beauty in God's house," had left nothing undone to 
 give dignity to the celebrations. We are told that "he caused Regulars 
 to stand as singers around the altar to praise the name of the Lord," and 
 would have " melodious modes to be used in the choir-singing." For these 
 particulars and others in connection with the discipline introduced by St. 
 Laurence O'Toole, see an interesting series of articles on "The Priory of 
 All-Saints, or All-Hallows, Dublin, contributed to the Irish Ecclesiastical 
 Gazette, in 1881, by the Rev. L. Studdert.
 
 394 DERMOD OF THE FOREIGNERS 
 
 child of his first wife, Cacht O'Moore, of Leix, and the destined 
 bride of Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke. Her five grand- 
 daughters were given in marriage to scions of the noblest 
 houses in England, and had for their dowry respectively, the 
 countiesof Carlow, Wexford, Kilkenny, Kildare, and Dunamase, 
 comprising the greater part of Leix, now Queen's County. The 
 Lady Eva's descendants form a long line, in which appears at 
 our day no less conspicuous a personage than VICTORIA, Queen 
 regnant in these realms. - e-i <--<?U'
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 THE lordly mansions which, in the streets of Dublin, raise a 
 proud front amidst more humble structures, not unfrequently 
 rivet the astonished gaze of the stranger, who, in the one breath, 
 is told the historic names by which these dwellings once were 
 designated, and the uses to which they are in latter days 
 designed. Various, indeed, has been the fortune of stately 
 houses, the home of the brilliant or the powerful, and the 
 resort of all that was distinguished in the political and social 
 life of Ireland before the Union was carried and the imperial 
 standard hoisted on Dublin Castle. In some instances their 
 altered destiny simply marks the descent from pre-eminence 
 to a low estate, and typifies the changed condition of a dis- 
 mantled capital; while, in other cases, the way in which the 
 halls, deserted by their princely owners, are turned to account, 
 has oftentimes a strange significance. 
 
 Fortune was hardly pitiful in transforming the good Lord 
 Moira's once brilliant residence into a refuge for mendicants ; 
 or in converting the edifice so intimately associated with the 
 memory of the noble earl who headed the volunteers, into a 
 range of offices for Civil Service clerks ; or, again, in turning 
 the corridors and reception-rooms of Lord Powerscourt's town 
 mansion into the goods stores of wholesale warehousemen. 
 One cannot say that Leinster House was appropriated to any 
 ignoble use when assigned for the location of the society incor- 
 porated for the improvement of husbandry and other useful arts in 
 Ireland ; and yet the sights and sounds attendant on cattle shows 
 and agricultural exhibitions are not precisely those that fall in best 
 with the remembrance of these Geraldines I these Gcraldines ! 
 
 395
 
 396 OLD. HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 But there is something of the irony of fate, if not of the 
 spirit of retribution, in the destiny that has in two or three 
 instances overtaken the mansions of such aristocrats as the 
 Brabazons, the De la Peers, the Beresfords. In the Earl of 
 Meath's luxurious dwelling, the Sisters of Charity now keep 
 house for the sick and hurt, who are carried up the elegant 
 staircase, laid beneath the richly-stuccoed ceilings, and made 
 as much of as if they were the very heirs of the vanished 
 lords. Tyrone House is the central office of commissioners 
 whose business it is to allocate some five or six hundred thou- 
 sand a year for the education of the people whose religion the 
 former residents traduced, and whose existence they did their 
 best to ignore. A certain high and wide red house, the scene 
 in bygone times of splendid hospitalities, is now a hospital 
 for children for the children, in the fourth generation, of the 
 Croppies whom the munificent host had in the days of '98 
 tortured with pitch-caps, hung up at triangles, and scourged 
 in the riding-school. 
 
 So striking a vicissitude in the destiny of historic houses 
 does not pass unnoticed. It signalises to the popular mind 
 the consequences of changed political conditions, and marks 
 the progress of the social revolution which began with Eman- 
 cipation, passed since through many phases, and has not yet 
 approached its term. When one of the spacious mansions of 
 pre-Union date, dishonoured by neglect and fast mouldering 
 into ruin, suddenly assumes a grimly renovated air and 
 becomes the bureau of a public department ; or when a 
 titled house is turned into a vast mercantile concern, or leased 
 to a tenant whose fortune is, perhaps, hardly large enough to 
 keep the mansion in repair, though his family goes far towards 
 peopling its apartments, the occurrence may provoke a remark 
 touching an absentee gentry and anti-Irish aristocracy ; but 
 when, on the other hand, one of these relics of the past falls 
 into the possession of a religious body, and is made the 
 centre of a Catholic organisation, the public voice not merely 
 acquiesces in the transfer, but is jubilant over it. And 
 naturally it is so. In Ireland, religion and nationality are fast 
 bound together. The Catholic Church and the Gaelic race 
 shared the same afflictions and survived through the same 
 length of intolerable years. Each new token of inextinguish- 
 able life in the one notes an advance in the onward career
 
 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 397 
 
 of the other; on this soil, at least, they are a common 
 cause. 
 
 If, like archaeologists of a certain school, we took our data 
 from stone monuments, we should find it easy to trace the 
 history of Dublin during the last one hundred and fifty years. 
 At the very outset, one is struck by the shortness of the period 
 during which the city maintained in any degree the character 
 of a splendid capital. Nearly all the noble buildings which 
 adorn its streets were erected within a period of fifty or sixty 
 years. The Parliament House, commenced in 1729, was 
 finished, according to the original design, ten years later; 
 but the eastern front of the House of Lords, with its fine 
 surmounting statues, and the western front in Foster Place, 
 were not erected until the century was drawing to a close. 
 Between 1741 and 1796, the Exchange, the Custom House, 
 the Four Courts, the King's Inns, and Carlisle Bridge, were 
 built. Tyrone House, Leinster House, Lord Powerscourt's 
 mansion, and the residence so creditable to the Earl of 
 Charlemont's taste, are of the same date. From the era of 
 the volunteers to the enactment of the Union, private specu- 
 lation as well as private enterprise were actively engaged in 
 making Dublin a handsome city. The loss of legislative 
 independence, one of the first consequences of which was 
 the withdrawal of nearly all the nobility and gentry from the 
 chief city, gave a check to the erection of public buildings, 
 and put an end to the opening of new streets. Isolated blocks 
 of houses, standing about on the north side of Dublin, still 
 indicate the lines by which it had been designed to extend the 
 city towards the then fashionable outlets of Glasnevin and 
 Drumcondra. 
 
 It should not be forgotten that Dublin owes a great deal of 
 its beauty to one man, a member of the Beresford family, 
 whose personal and political influence enabled him to carry 
 out undertakings which his good taste and his public spirit 
 made him feel to be desirable and expedient 
 
 The Beresfords were the most powerful section of the 
 oligarchy that misruled Ireland all through the eighteenth 
 century. The family first obtained a footing in a vast field 
 for social and political ambition when Tristram Beresford 
 came over, in the reign of James I., as manager of the Society 
 of the New Plantation of Ulster. This gentleman settled at
 
 398 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 
 
 Coleraine, managed well for the Corporation of Londoners 
 who had become possessed of the fair territories of the ban- 
 ished and despoiled native chiefs, and turned to the best 
 account the opportunity which his position afforded of push- 
 ing on the fortunes of the family. They prospered immensely. 
 Tristram's son was created a baronet ; his descendants formed 
 alliances with noble families. 1 The fourth baronet having 
 married the Baroness De la Poer, daughter and heiress of the 
 Earl of Tyrone, was advanced to the peerage as Baron Beres- 
 ford and Viscount Tyrone, and created Earl of Tyrone. His 
 son inherited the barony of De la Poer on the demise of his 
 mother, and was created Marquess of Waterford in 1789. 
 
 The Beresfords had long families, and were a long-lived 
 race ; and they excelled all the birds of foreign plumage that 
 ever swooped down on the plains of Leinster, or alighted on 
 the wooded slopes of Ulster, in the art of feathering their own 
 nest. Vast territorial possessions, accumulated wealth, and a 
 strong principle of clanship, secured them a prominent and 
 powerful position in Ireland at a period when the people were 
 held in worse than Egyptian bondage, and the parliamentary 
 government was carried on by means of, or, as the case might 
 be, in spite of, the fierce rivalry of faction, and a system of 
 almost unexampled corruption. Having in their hands most 
 of the Government patronage in three of the provinces, and to 
 a great degree in the fourth, where, however, Lord Shannon 
 disputed their sway, they were able to secure lucrative posts 
 for themselves, and to provide for their friends, retainers, and 
 electors. 
 
 The Church rivalled the State in promoting the interests ot 
 the Beresfords. Benefices, like pocket-boroughs, were at the 
 service of the hosts of younger brothers ; while rich episcopal 
 Sees were looked upon as the heritage of their elders blessed 
 with a vocation for the pastoral office. At one time there 
 were three Beresfords together on the bench of bishops. A 
 son was seen to succeed to a mitre which his father had worn 
 before him. Young Beresford bishops were promoted from 
 See to See until they had advanced to archiepiscopal dignity, 
 or happily reached primatial eminence. William Beresford, 
 
 1 Sir Tristram Beresford, the third baronet, married a daughter of Lord 
 Glenawley. He is mentioned in the Book of Days, in connection with 
 "an uncommonly fascinating ghost story."
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 399 
 
 brother of the first Marquess of Waterford, was successively 
 Bishop of Dromore, Bishop of Ossory, and Archbishop ot 
 Tuam ; and then, as if to give a tonic temporal flavour to the 
 full cup of purely spiritual honours, his Grace was raised 
 to the peerage and created Baron Decies. Thrice within a 
 century the primatial throne of Armagh has been filled by 
 a member of this truly episcopal family ; for the Church 
 remained faithful to the Beresfords long after the State had 
 ceased to hold them in exorbitant esteem ; and in our own 
 time, on the death of the Most Reverend John George, who 
 had ascended to Armagh by Cork, Raphoe, Clogher, and 
 Dublin, and had ruled the primatial See for forty years, the 
 vacated dignity and its enormous revenues were conferred on 
 his cousin, Marcus Gervais, the then Archbishop of Dublin. 1 
 
 From first to last, while power remained in their hands, 
 the Beresfords strenuously discountenanced all recognition of 
 popular feeling, and opposed to the utmost every concession 
 to Catholic claims. Protestant ascendency, the rule of an 
 oligarchy, and the interests of the family, were inextricably 
 bound together. And yet, bigoted and domineering, and 
 insatiable in pursuit of the good things of the world, as they 
 proved themselves to be, they were not held in such dread 
 detestation as some men of lesser mark among their com- 
 patriots most certainly were. One thing counted in their 
 favour : they were a handsome race and of stately stature, 
 and the populace have ever shown a disposition to forgive 
 much to tyrants who really look like kings of men ; and then 
 there was occasionally a breadth and even magnificence in 
 their ideas which carried them beyond the mere concerns of 
 family aggrandisement. There have been just landlords and 
 good employers among them ; and they did not always carry 
 into the details of private life that odious intolerance which, 
 displayed on the theatre of public life, aggravated the evils 
 that scourged the land, and led up to the tragic end of many 
 a story. 
 
 The man to whom, as \ve have said, Dublin owes so much 
 of its beauty, was the Right Hon. John Beresford, second son 
 
 1 In the Freeman 's Journal "Church Commission Correspondence, 
 1867-1868," since reprinted in book form, will be found an excellent 
 sketch of the Beresford churchmen, and some details of the vast incomes 
 enjoyed by the bishops and archbishops of the family.
 
 400 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 
 
 of the Earl of Tyrone, brother of the Marquess of Waterford, 
 a member of the Privy Councils of Great Britain and Ireland, 
 representative in Parliament of the county of Waterford during 
 forty-four years, and Commissioner of the Revenues in Ireland 
 for more than thirty. Able, energetic, indomitable, and backed 
 by the overwhelming family interest, Mr. Beresford enjoyed 
 more actual power than any man in Ireland. It was said of 
 him that he had the law, the army, the revenue, and a great 
 deal of the Church in his possession, and that he might be 
 considered the king of Ireland. 
 
 With the British viceroys and there were as many as eleven 
 chief governors at the Castle in the space of twenty years he 
 generally maintained excellent relations. A most remarkable 
 exception, however, was in the case of Earl Fitzwilliam, whose 
 coming to Ireland, with the avowed purpose of bringing peace 
 to the distracted land and preparing the way for Catholic 
 emancipation, was the cause of exceeding joy, but whose recall, 
 after a few months, dashed to the ground the nation's newly- 
 awakened hope. The new viceroy was of opinion that it 
 would be impossible to effect any good in Ireland until the 
 power of the Beresfords had been destroyed ; and one of his 
 first acts was to deprive the Chief Commissioner of His Majesty's 
 Revenues of the important and lucrative post he had held for 
 many years, and to exclude him from his seat in the Privy 
 Council. The earl's recall to England anticipated by a few 
 weeks the reinstalment of Mr. Beresford at the Board and in 
 the Council. The family influence remained unimpaired, and 
 the commissioner continued to be reputed fortunate in his 
 public career and happy in his private relations. 1 
 
 Mr. Beresford had large ideas with regard to the improve- 
 ment of Dublin, and was determined to carry out works calcu- 
 lated to add considerably to the public convenience, and 
 greatly beautify the then very irregular city. 
 
 1 Left a widower with eight young children by the death of his first wife, 
 the daughter of General Count de Ligondes, Mr. Beresford obtained, two 
 or three years later, the hand of Barbara, the second daughter of Sir 
 William Montgomery, Bart. This lady was one of the three beautiful 
 sisters who were the originals of Sir Joshua Reynold's picture, The 
 Graces. Another of the lovely trio became Marchioness of Townshend ; 
 and the third married Mr. Gardiner, afterwards Lord Mountjoy, who was 
 killed by the rebels in '98 at the battle of New Ross. By his second mar- 
 riage Mr. Beresford had seven children.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 401 
 
 Gradually, after the power of the Wicklow septs had been 
 so completely crushed that the marauding descents of the 
 Irish of the mountains were no longer to be dreaded, the city 
 had begun to extend, though in a very straggling way, outside 
 the fortified walls. The old town long remained compact on 
 the high south bank of the river, under shelter of the Castle, 
 and clustered round St. Patrick's and Christ Church. But 
 streetways had, in course of time, been opened beyond the 
 Parliament House and the College, St. Stephen's Green had 
 been enclosed towards the end of the seventeenth century, 
 and the erection of houses in Merrion Square had been com- 
 menced about ninety years later ; while on the north bank a new 
 quarter had recently sprung up many of the nobility occupied 
 houses in Rutland Square and Sackville Street, and a great 
 number of aristocratic families resided in the adjacent streets. 
 
 At the time that Mr. Beresford began to form plans for the 
 improvement of the city, direct communication between the 
 Sackville Street quarter and the neighbourhood of the Parlia- 
 ment House was carried on by boats; gentle and simple 
 wanting to cross the river at that point should alike be ferried 
 over ; the bridge nearest the sea was Essex Bridge, which had 
 been rebuilt about the middle of the century. On the east 
 side of the bridge stood the Custom House, and not far off, 
 the noble Exchange was fast approaching completion. The 
 government and municipal offices were in the same locality, as 
 well as the theatres, and the warehouses and residences of the 
 merchants and traders. From Essex Bridge to the sea the 
 river followed its course, for some distance confined by walls, 
 and then casting up brackish waters on the irregular banks in 
 places reduced to a swamp by long neglect and tidal inroads. 
 
 Mr. Beresford's design was to widen and extend the quays, 
 and to open an uninterrupted line from the site of the old 
 friary of St. Saviour near which it was already contemplated 
 to raise a magnificent pile of buildings for the Law Courts to 
 the low-lying waste that stretched seawards beyond the point 
 where Sackville Street was lost in lanes straggling down to the 
 riverside. To throw a bridge across the water at this point, 
 and to lay out a handsome street between it and the Parlia- 
 ment House, was a part of the design ; as was also the erection 
 of a new Custom House fully half an Irish mile nearer the sea 
 than the edifice at Essex Bridge. Whatever the public may 
 26
 
 402 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 have thought of the improvement of the quays, the opening of 
 new streets, and the building of another bridge, one part of 
 the project provoked the most determined opposition, namely, 
 the erection of a new Custom House in a swamp, and at so 
 inconvenient a distance from the business centre. 
 
 All that the First Commissioner wanted, however, was an 
 order from the Treasury at Whitehall to build a Custom House, 
 and an architect with genius to furnish him with a noble 
 design, and with capacity to aid him in carrying on the works. 
 Such a man he found in James Gandon, the grandson of a 
 French Huguenot settled in London. Gandon, whose enthusi- 
 astic devotion to his profession had already brought him into 
 considerable notice, gave a plan which met with the First Com- 
 missioner's highest approval. 
 
 In January 1781, Mr. Beresford wrote to him that he had at 
 length obtained an order from Government for the building of 
 a new Custom House with all expedition, and had proceeded 
 to take possession of a large lot in a low situation. The 
 business must, he said, be kept a profound secret; for the 
 Corporation and a great number of the merchants, together 
 with what was considered the most desperate of the mob, were 
 violently opposed to the undertaking, while certain persons of 
 influence on the other side of the channel would make every 
 exertion to prevent the design being carried out. It appeared 
 that interested persons affected to regard the change as 
 injurious to the commerce of the city; a clamour was raised 
 that there would not be sufficient room for shipping ; and it 
 was considered folly to attempt the erection of such a structure 
 on a morass. 
 
 According to the instructions received, Gandon hastened to 
 Dublin, where, however, he did not find affairs in such a con- 
 dition that the works could be commenced with the expedition 
 Mr. Beresford had imagined possible. At the last moment 
 great obstacles were placed in the way, and exorbitant de- 
 mands were made for the lots of ground. 1 The architect's 
 
 1 This district was in former times a part of the immediate demesne of the 
 Cistercians of St. Mary's Abbey, and had been given to them with the 
 grange of Clonlifie by Strongbow. The abbots enjoyed rights of fishery 
 and customs in this neighbourhood, and had hake nets on the North Strand. 
 The people had been for generations in the habit of holding public games, 
 tilting, and archery meetings, etc., on these grounds. See Introduction to 
 Dalton's History of Drogheda.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 403 
 
 position was anything but comfortable ; he had to remain in a 
 sort of imprisonment, unable to present his letters of introduc- 
 tion or to visit the friends he already knew, while he was tor- 
 mented with the apprehension that his abrupt departure from 
 London might injure his character, and his visit to Ireland 
 prove after all unsuccessful. The only pleasant time he 
 appears to have enjoyed was due to the kindness of the Right 
 Hon. Burton Conyngham, who carried him to his princely 
 residence at Slane, where, though still in privacy, he enjoyed 
 for several days the splendid hospitalities of his good-natured 
 host On returning to town, the architect ventured at very 
 early hours in the morning to walk over the grounds pro- 
 cured for the site of the Custom House, not without alarm 
 when considering the difficulties of having the foundation 
 laid. 
 
 Finally, after three months' delay, the purchase was com- 
 pleted, and Gandon received orders to commence forthwith 
 the opening of the grounds; for nothing but uncommon 
 activity in the commencement would prevent the violent 
 opposition of a formidable party making every effort to stimu- 
 late the mob, and procure petitions. He was, furthermore, 
 desired to send to London for clerks and assistants. He 
 greatly regretted this hurry ; but having held a meeting of the 
 principal Dublin artificers, he found he could rely on them, 
 and he began the work with a better heart 
 
 The Sunday after the trenches were dug, many hundreds of 
 the people assembled on the grounds, and it was apprehended 
 that they would proceed to fill up the excavations. However, 
 their inclinations took a less mischievous turn, and they 
 amused themselves swimming in the trenches. The first stone 
 was soon after laid by Mr. Beresford without any formality, 
 lest a riot might be got up; and the Corporation ceased all 
 opposition, thinking it impossible the structure could ever be 
 raised. 
 
 When, however, it was seen that the foundations were going 
 on, the High Sheriff and an influential member of the Cor- 
 poration, followed by a rabble with shovels and saws, came in 
 a body on the grounds and levelled a portion of the fence. 
 This news was brought to Mr. Beresford on a Saturday, and he 
 immediately wrote to Gandon to replace the enclosure instantly, 
 to make the holes next day and set his poles, to put it up as
 
 404 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 fast as it was pulled down : " Prevent all opposition," he 
 said in conclusion, "and laugh at the extreme folly of the 
 people." 
 
 Other vexatious interruptions occurred, the works proceeding 
 nevertheless. The architect having now fully made up his 
 mind to settle in Ireland, went to London to make the neces- 
 sary arrangements, and on his return to Dublin took a house 
 in Mecklenburgh Street, that he might be near Mr. Beresford's 
 residence in Marlborough Street. 1 
 
 His choice of Ireland was the more remarkable from the 
 fact that about the same time he had received an invitation to 
 settle at St. Petersburg, from no less a personage than the 
 Princess Dashkoff, who promised him, in case he should 
 emigrate to the Czarina's dominions, advancement in his 
 profession and military rank. This lady had been for some 
 time sojourning in London, and was a pupil of Gandon's 
 friend, Sandby, the water-colour artist She had judgment 
 enough to recognise Gandon's genius and appreciate his 
 character. That she would have made good her words there 
 can be no doubt, for, having shortly afterwards returned to 
 Russia, she was appointed Director of the St. Petersburg 
 Academy of Arts and Sciences, and President of the Russian 
 Academy. 
 
 Gandon had no reason to regret his choice. He had a great 
 admiration for the country of his adoption, found honourable 
 employment in Ireland, and made many friends. The Dublin 
 artificers, who, as a body, had pleased him so much on their 
 first introduction to him, did not deceive his expectations ; his 
 praise of them remains on record. 
 
 While the Custom House was in course of erection, Edward 
 Smith, a young man then occupying a very obscure position, 
 happened to come under the notice of Gandon, who was not 
 long in discovering in the stone-carver a talent that needed 
 only a favourable opportunity to distinguish its possessor. The 
 sculptured ornaments of the Custom House, and the statue of 
 Hope surmounting the cupola, were intrusted to the young 
 man. So fully was Gandon satisfied with his protege's work, 
 that he made it a condition on subsequent occasions that 
 Edward Smith should be employed whenever there was room 
 
 1 For the above and other interesting details relating to the building of 
 the Custom House, see Mulvany's Life of Gandon.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 405 
 
 for the display of the sculptor's art on the public buildings 
 which he was himself engaged to erect. 1 
 
 In 1791 the new Custom House was opened for public 
 business, and in the same year the foundations of Carlisle 
 Bridge were laid by Mr. Beresford. In the following years the 
 Commissioners of Wide Streets directed their attention to the 
 opening of passages from Sackville Street and Carlisle Bridge, 
 and the laying-out of squares, streets, and places to the east- 
 ward. By Act of Parliament, a portion of St. Mary's parish 
 was severed, and constituted the parish of St. Thomas. Before 
 Mr. Beresford's death, in 1805, he had seen almost fully 
 realised the city-view which, when first presented to his mind's 
 eye, was graced with all the "glory and the freshness of a dream." 
 If the man who imagined and accomplished so much is not, 
 despite his political errors, remembered with sufficient gratitude 
 by the city he thus adorned, it is owing in a great degree, 
 perhaps, to the special odium the name incurred in the era 
 of '98, through the cruel zeal in stamping out rebellion dis- 
 played by his son, John Claudius Beresford. 
 
 John Claudius Beresford, the third son of the First Commis- 
 sioner of the Revenue, had no more cause to complain of the 
 ill-usage of fortune than any of the host of brothers, uncles, 
 cousins, and connections who grew up and prospered in the 
 sunshine of the family patronage. Nothing came amiss to him 
 that brought an increase of power, pay, or importance. In 
 Parliament he represented, successively, the borough of Swords, 
 the city of Dublin, and the county of Waterford. He was a 
 Privy Councillor in Ireland, Inspector-General of Exports and 
 Imports, secretary to the Grand Lodge of Orangemen, captain 
 commandant of a corps of yeomanry, a Commissioner of Wide 
 Streets, one of the Corporation for Improving the Port of 
 Dublin, agent to the Honourable the Irish Society over their 
 estates in Deny; a banker, an alderman, governor of the 
 aldermen of Skinner's Alley, a trustee of the linen manufacture, 
 and once in a way Lord Mayor of Dublin. 
 
 In 1790, being then about twenty-four years of age, he 
 
 1 Smith's best works are, perhaps, the noble figures of Justice, Fortitude, 
 and Liberty, surmounting the eastern front of the Bank of Ireland ; and 
 the colossal statues, so full of dignity and grace, of Moses, Justice, Mercy, 
 Wisdom, and Eloquence, over the portico of the Four Courts. The 
 portrait statue of Lucas, in the City Hall, is also by Smith.
 
 406 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 entered the Irish Parliament as member for Swords a borough 
 described as notorious in the annals of bribery and corruption, 
 the franchise being then exercised by the Protestant inhabitants 
 who had been six months resident in the town previous to the 
 election. A writer, quoted in Dalton's History of the County of 
 Dublin^ gives, in reference to this election, a curious sketch of 
 the way in which such matters were managed in times gone by. 
 "General Massey," says this authority, "some time since cast 
 a longing eye on this borough, which he considered as a 
 common open to any occupant ; and, to secure the command 
 of it to himself, he began to take and build tenements within 
 its precincts, in which he placed many veteran soldiers, who, 
 having served under him in war, were firmly attached to their 
 ancient leader. Mr. Beresford, the First Commissioner of the 
 Revenue, who has a sharp lookout for vacant places, had 
 formed the same scheme with the general for securing the 
 borough to himself, and a deluge of revenue-officers was poured 
 forth from the Custom House to overflow the place, as all the 
 artificers of the new Custom House had before been exported 
 in the potato-boats of Dungarvan to storm that borough. The 
 wary general took the alarm, and threatened his competitor 
 that for every revenue-officer appearing there he would intro- 
 duce two old soldiers, which somewhat cooled the First Com- 
 missioner's ardour. Thus the matter rests at present; but 
 whether the legions of the army or the locusts of the revenue 
 will finally remain masters of the field, or whether the rival 
 chiefs, from an impossibility of effecting all they wish, will be 
 content to go off, like the two kings of Brentford, smelling at 
 one rose, or whether Mr. Hatche's interest will preponderate in 
 the scale, time alone can clearly ascertain." As a matter of 
 history, we may add that the gallant general and the First 
 Commissioner's son did pass off the stage in the aforesaid 
 kingly fashion. 
 
 Having represented this very independent constituency for 
 six years, Mr. John Claudius Beresford stood for the metro- 
 politan city, and was returned in 1797. During this part of his 
 career he distinguished himself by speaking and voting against 
 the Union, thereby certainly representing the electors of 
 Dublin, while going in direct opposition to the chiefs of his 
 house, whose support no unimportant aid, since it was calcu- 
 lated that they exercised a more or less direct influence over
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 407 
 
 about four-and-twenty seats was relied on by the English 
 ministry. His father was, at the same time, lending very im- 
 portant assistance in carrying the measure ; his grandfather, 
 the Earl of Tyrone, a staunch, though not by any means a 
 brilliant, supporter of the Government, proposed the Union in 
 a speech written in the crown of his hat ; and his uncle, Lord 
 Clare, was earning, by his strenuous advocacy of the cause, the 
 sobriquet of " Union Jack." The patriotic Beresford does not 
 appear to have got much credit for sincerity. However, we 
 learn from the Cornwallis correspondence that his conduct at 
 some of the Dublin meetings was so very hostile to the Union 
 measure, that it became a question whether he should not be 
 dismissed from his situation as Inspector-General of Exports 
 and Imports ; and, as a matter of fact, he did resign this agree- 
 able sinecure post of ^400 a year. " Mr. John Claudius 
 Beresford this morning resigned his office," writes Lord 
 Cornwallis to the Duke of Portland, "very liberally express- 
 ing his wish to relieve the Administration from all difficulties 
 on his account, and desirous that the support which he in- 
 tends to afford the Government on all other questions might 
 not be attributed in any degree to his wish to retain his 
 situation." 
 
 Unfortunately, this energetic anti-Unionist displayed more 
 than equal zeal in a worse cause. His ultra-loyal energy in 
 putting down insurrection found expression in very unmeasured 
 language. A contemporary accuses him of having expressed 
 a wish for the rebellion, in order to have an opportunity of 
 showing the world that it might be quelled in two days. But, 
 whether he did or did not use these words, he showed un- 
 bounded satisfaction when the Government proposed to adopt 
 the most vigorous measures of repression in the month of May 
 1798. Oratory was not among the gifts of the well-endowed 
 Beresfords, and on this occasion John Claudius appears to 
 have particularly lamented his want of eloquence. Words 
 failed him, he told the House of Commons, to express what he 
 felt. He was glad that the Government of the country at last 
 thought fit to adopt these vigorous measures. Leniency had 
 failed. He was for the exertion of still greater vigour. He 
 was for proclaiming military law at once for trying before a 
 military tribunal every traitor found with arms in his hands 
 against the State, and hanging them up at once upon convic-
 
 4 o8 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 
 
 tion. He highly lauded the good policy of crushing rebellion 
 in the bud. 
 
 He made, however, a much more remarkable figure at the 
 head of his yeomanry corps than in his seat in the Irish Parlia- 
 ment. The feelings which he could not adequately express in 
 a speech he gave full vent to when he led his light horse into 
 action. It will be remembered that in the reign of terror that 
 preceded the outbreak of '98, and during the days of slaughter 
 that followed, the military, the militia, and the yeomanry were 
 employed in exciting the people to revolt, in seizing and 
 torturing suspected rebels, and in slaying insurgents in the 
 field. The British troops and the German mercenaries, let 
 loose over the country, were active agents in carrying out the 
 measures which Lord Castlereagh admitted were taken by 
 Government in order to cause the premature explosion of the 
 insurrection. Murder, according to Lord Cornwallis, was the 
 favourite pastime of the militia ; while the Orange yeomanry, 
 fully equal in ferocity to the Ancient Britons, the Homsperg 
 Dragoons, the Dumbarton Fencibles, and the North Cork and 
 Armagh regiments, 1 had, owing to their intimate acquaintance 
 with the people, still greater opportunities of destroying the 
 innocent. Whom they would they declared suspected, and 
 private enmities as well as party animosities could alike be 
 gratified by the consequences horrible torturing or disgraceful 
 death sure to follow such a denunciation. 
 
 The captain commandant of " Beresford's corps" took con- 
 siderable pride in the efficiency of his troop. At the Sunday 
 parades in Stephen's Green and the reviews in the Phcenix 
 Park, their martial appearance was calculated to attract the 
 admiration of the crowds that gathered on these occasions ; 
 for, the country being in danger, Sabbath decorum was con- 
 stantly disturbed by military displays in the streets and public 
 places. For the better training of his men, he built a riding- 
 school in the grounds of Tyrone House. Talbot Street had no 
 existence at that date, and the large wooden building was 
 raised on the site now occupied by Mr. Quan's coach factory 
 
 1 The Highland regiments serving at that time in Ireland were a credit- 
 able contrast in their conduct to the other troops. These regiments, says 
 Mr. A. M. Sullivan, in the Story of Ireland, p. 538, "behaved with the 
 greatest humanity and, where possible, kindliness towards the Irish 
 peasantry."
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 409 
 
 and the National Education Model School. On one side the 
 riding-house faced Marlborough Green, then a place of fashion- 
 able promenade, and on the other looked into the well-planted 
 lawn of the Marquess of Waterford's residence, which, on the 
 Marlborough Street side, was protected by a high wall that 
 served to screen it from the pile over the way, once Lord 
 Annesley's dwelling, but then, and until it made room for the 
 Metropolitan Church, a barrack. 
 
 By and by, the times not improving, and the zeal of excited 
 loyalty waxing still hotter, the commandant supplemented his 
 force by the addition of a battalion of spies, the yeomen were 
 otherwise employed than in equestrian exercise, and the riding- 
 house was turned to the same account as the Shelbourne 
 Barracks in Stephen's Green, the old Custom House at Essex 
 Bridge, and the yard of the Royal Exchange. Denounced by 
 the spies, and hunted down by the Orange yeomen, suspected 
 rebels were driven into the riding-house, suspended from a 
 triangle, and flogged until they made " confession," true or false, 
 or fainted away in their agony ; while there stood by, like an 
 incorrigible Saul, the captain of the rebel-hunting troop of in- 
 formers and light cavalry thenceforth known as " Beresford's 
 Bloodhounds." 
 
 The exploits of this corps of the loyal Dublin horse were 
 somehow or another not remarkable in the field. We hear of 
 them in a miserable affray at Rathfarnham, when the leader of 
 a party of rebels was killed and four of his men hanged in the 
 street ; and they appear again in history, scouring the neigh- 
 bourhood of Artane, and, attended by a detachment of the 
 Coolock cavalry, triumphantly entering Dublin with their prize, 
 a number of pikes and fireams, which they proceeded to 
 lodge in the barracks. Their gallantry, no doubt, was equal to 
 that of their comrades in arms, which was so often " difficult to 
 restrain within prudent bounds " ; possibly, like the rest, they 
 "distinguished themselves in a high style" on different occa- 
 sions, and earned, one way or another, a share of the extrava- 
 gant eulogy bestowed on all His Majesty's forces on duty in 
 Ireland by all the Government officers, civil and military. 
 There was a good deal of work for soldiers of this kind in the 
 city itself when the yeomanry went into permanent duty, and 
 patrols were established through every street Numbers of 
 prisoners were being brought in daily, and had to be hanged,
 
 410 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 
 
 pour encotirager les autres^ on the bridges, with the gallant 
 yeomanry in attendance. Captain John Claudius did not 
 shirk his duty in this sphere of action. He made no difficulty 
 about assisting at the executions with his highly-effective force. 
 The new bridge at the end of Sackville Street (there was no 
 sign of Westmoreland Street at that date) was desecrated by 
 such scenes as these. The scaffolding, still erect, afforded 
 facilities for the execution of the dreadful work. There suffered 
 the prisoners taken at Santry by Lord Roden and his dragoons, 
 called, from the fine horses they rode, the " Foxhunters " ; and 
 there was also put to a disgraceful death, on a bright summer 
 afternoon, Dr. Esmond, of the old Catholic family of that 
 name, who had been engaged in the tragic affair at Prosperous. 
 
 No achievement of the Bloodhounds and their master made 
 so strong an impression on the public mind as their treatment 
 of a master chimney-sweeper named Horish, concerning whom 
 that indefatigable gleaner in the fields of history, Mr. W. J. 
 Fitzpatrick, has collected some curious particulars. Horish, it 
 would appear, was a well-known citizen. He lived in a good 
 house, which he himself, or his father, had built on Redmond's 
 Hill ; employed a number of climbing boys, whom he treated 
 remarkably well, and had the best business in his line in 
 Dublin, having a contract for sweeping the chimneys of all the 
 public offices, including those of the Castle. Although held in 
 good repute, he had enemies who gave out that he was a 
 member of the United Irish Society, and was to lend his aid 
 in conveying some infernal machine into the Castle for the 
 purpose of blowing up the building. 1 This was enough. The 
 unfortunate man was seized forthwith, carried to the riding- 
 house in Marlborough Green, and flogged unmercifully in the 
 presence of the commandant. 2 
 
 In strange ways did the populace give expression to the rage 
 enkindled in their hearts by such transactions as these. One 
 night a signboard was affixed to the door of the riding-house, 
 with the inscription : " Mangling done here by Beresford & 
 Co." Some, in their blind fury, destroyed the banker's notes 
 whenever they could lay hands on them ; and Mr. Fitzpatrick 
 
 1 Ireland before the Union, ch. ix. 
 
 - Horish, according to a humorous writer, was punished for " assuming 
 the title of Earl of Charlemont, making pikes, introducing the French, and 
 intending to s.eparate us," etc.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 411 
 
 refers to instances in which a man was seen lighting his pipe, 
 and a rebel was discovered wadding his gun, with waste paper 
 of the same quality. 
 
 When, in 1802, an attempt was made to break the Beresford 
 party, and Sir Jonah Barrington and Mr. Latouche contested 
 the city of Dublin with the Orange candidates, Horish again 
 appeared upon the scene, and in a very unexpected and effective 
 way confronted his late tormentor at the hustings. All the 
 chimney-sweepers in Dublin, and they were many, who had 
 votes, polled for the Counsellor, as Sir Jonah was popularly 
 called. " I lost the election," says the latter, " but I polled to 
 the end of the fifteen days, and had the gratification of thinking 
 that I broke the knot of a virulent ascendency, was the means 
 of Mr. Latouche's success, and likewise of Mr. Grattan's sub- 
 sequent return." 1 Many years afterwards, at elections in other 
 parts of Ireland, triangles were set up in the streets, for the 
 purpose of exciting the people against a candidate whose claims 
 to the support of a tenantry enjoying peace and plenty under a 
 just landlord of the house of Beresford were forgotten in the 
 detestation attaching to the name of the master of the riding- 
 house. 
 
 But the mistakes and misdeeds of this man might have 
 had a chance of dropping into comparative oblivion, or be- 
 coming confounded with the wrongdoings of other parties, if 
 the attention of " an able editor," with a viciously sharp pen, 
 had not been concentrated on the remarkable figure of John 
 Claudius Beresford. The vengeance thus taken was pro- 
 longed and deadly. He was tracked through every path of 
 his subsequent life, picketed on the merciless pen, triangled in 
 every possible position, lashed with envenomed words, and 
 gibbeted for posterity. In one of the now very scarce 
 magazines of seventy years ago, this retributive war was carried 
 on ; and the result is that, whenever the word Beresford is 
 mentioned in the hearing of the people, John Claudius, with 
 his Bloodhounds and his riding-house, start up as if there never 
 had been another of his patronymic met with in the pages of 
 history or the walks of life. As was remarked by a worthy 
 man who, himself an Irishman of the truest blood and feeling, 
 had, while serving in the employment of the Waterford family, 
 many opportunities of observing the high spirit, generosity, 
 1 Personal Sketches and Recollections of his Own Times.
 
 412 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 and other good qualities of the race " John Claudius ruined 
 the Beresfords ! " l 
 
 Alderman John Claudius was an active member of the old 
 Corporation. He diligently and efficiently attended to public 
 business, without, however, letting slip any opportunity of im- 
 proving his own position. He rented some of the tolls, then 
 levied off agricultural produce conveyed into Dublin for 
 supply of the inhabitants. How much of these were rented 
 by him cannot at this moment be stated, but he certainly 
 rented the tolls collected in Dorset Street. A gentleman, who 
 then wrote remonstrances against levying the tolls, while the 
 city was taxed, house by house, for the purposes to which the 
 tolls were alleged to be applied, raised so strong a feeling 
 against the exaction, that the country people at length re- 
 solved to drive the vehicles conveying their produce through 
 the collectors by force ; and the legality of the tolls having 
 been generally disputed, the collection was abandoned. The 
 alderman also rented the ferries, and the tolls collected on the 
 bridges which had been built where ferry boats once had 
 plied. For many years after Carlisle Bridge was opened, 
 there stood a toll-house at either end, and the last remnant of 
 the old system still survives in the metal bridge, which useful 
 and really graceful object we owe to the much-abused toll- 
 farmer. In conjunction with his partner, a Mr. Walsh, he 
 threw a wooden structure across the ferry station at the 
 Bachelor's Walk. This bridge, having been carried away by a 
 flood, the metal bridge was cast to take its place. The alder- 
 
 1 If we were asked to name a member of the same family as a striking 
 set-off against John Claudius, we would name his cousin, the late John 
 George Beresford, Protestant Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of 
 Ireland. No one who had once seen him could ever forget his handsome 
 face and truly noble appearance. He was a man of discerning mind and 
 generous feeling, and showed these qualities in the way in which he ruled his 
 See, and in his relations with his clergy. The large revenue he derived from 
 the Church he employed chiefly in its service. He contented himself with 
 his private fortune, and died not rich. On his cathedral choir he spent 
 .700 a year ; the expenses incurred by the publication of a valuable 
 antiquarian work were defrayed by him ; and he built, at a cost of \ 1,000, 
 the Campanile in the grand square of Trinity College. Our late venerated 
 primate, the Most Rev. Dr. Dixon, had thesincerest esteem for Archbishop 
 Beresford ; and on one occasion, when speaking of him, he said : " He is 
 a large-hearted, large-minded man, and each night in prayer I ask God 
 to preserve his life, and to prolong the terra of his benevolence and 
 charity."
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 413 
 
 man's or, more properly, as he was then chief magistrate, the 
 Lord Mayor's relentless pursuer with the envenomed pen 
 made great fun out of the occasion, in a paragraph headed 
 " Hanging a Bridge," and in other witty half-pages. " A neat 
 iron bridge," we are thus informed, "being ready to be placed 
 across the river, John Claudius Beresford, who farms the ferries 
 as he does the tolls, is to hang his bridge : no man fitter," 
 etc. An apple woman, who is represented to have lost her 
 whole stock-in-trade when her standing was carried off by 
 the fall of the bridge, said that it ought to be called Beres- 
 ford's bridge ; and being asked the reason, replies : Because it 
 whipt away all she possessed. " The twentieth of July," we 
 are elsewhere told, " being the birthday of his long lordship, 
 as well as the second day of the shooting term, the same will 
 be observed with the usual demonstrations of joy. The 
 Beresford standard l will be hoisted on each boat of the ferry 
 fleet ; twenty-one rounds will be fired from each of the toll- 
 houses, and the riding- house colours in crimson will be 
 displayed." 
 
 For some years Mr. John Claudius Beresford's town resi- 
 dence was at No. 2 Beresford Place, where the business of 
 the banking firm in which he was a partner was carried on. 
 There was an inconvenient run on the bank not for gold, 
 however, but for window smashing on the day Lord Camden 
 arrived in Dublin as Viceroy of Ireland. The mob, well 
 knowing the party that was answerable for the sudden recall 
 of Earl Fitzwilliam, having attacked the Chancellor (Lord 
 Clare), and nearly demolished his magnificent equipage, 
 rushed to the Custom House, broke the windows of that part 
 of the building in which the First Commissioner resided, and 
 then attacked the bank ; but the military, soon afterwards 
 arriving on the spot, dispersed the crowd, without, as the 
 report says, any more mischief occurring. It seemed hardly 
 worth while to put on record that one man was killed, and 
 two or three were wounded, by shots fired from the Custom 
 House. 
 
 During the period in which Mr. John Claudius Beresford 
 represented the county of Waterford in the Imperial Parlia- 
 ment, he resided, when in town, in the handsome house now so 
 well known as the Children's Hospital, Buckingham Street. 
 1 A stag's head, with a crucifix between the horns.
 
 4 U OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 The mansion stood, not as now in the centre of a row, but 
 as the end house of a block, with waste grounds in the offing, 
 and a wide space extending between it and the palatial edifice 
 built about the middle of the last century, at the cost of 
 ^"40,000, by the Earl of Aldborough. Not long before the 
 rebellion broke out, the eccentric earl and the future resident 
 in the Buckingham Street mansion came into collision about 
 certain lots of ground in the neighbourhood. A suit at law 
 was the consequence, and the case having been brought into 
 the Court of Chancery, Lord Clare's decision was given in 
 favour of his nephew. In an appeal carried to the House of 
 Lords, the same chancellor being on the woolsack, the noble- 
 man was again defeated. Thus, left without legal means of 
 obtaining what he considered justice, the earl wrote a book 
 attacking the Lord Chancellor. Thereupon he was cited to 
 defend himself before his peers ; but, not succeeding in doing 
 so, he was voted guilty of a high breach of privilege and a 
 libel on the Lord Chancellor, as chairman of the House. The 
 end of the matter was that the earl was sent to Newgate, 
 where he remained for some months; until, having obtained 
 by memorial a remission of his sentence of imprisonment, he 
 was liberated on payment of ^1000. 
 
 Buckingham Street was one of the new lines laid out during 
 the building of the Custom House. There was not even a 
 roadway between the Strand line and Summer Hill until 1790. 
 We find the street mentioned in Ireland Ninety Years Ago, 1 in 
 the narrative of a gentleman who described to the writer of 
 that book the way in which he had passed the night of the 
 23rd of May 1798. " On the morning of that day," he says, 
 " I received a pressing invitation from my sister, who then 
 lived in Buckingham Street, to join her family, that we might, 
 as she said, 'all die together.' I set out in the evening for her 
 house. The streets were silent and deserted ; no sound was 
 heard but the measured tread of the yeomanry corps taking up 
 their appointed stations." He met an acquaintance who 
 wanted him to go home and pass the night with him, as it was 
 dangerous to be out. This, however, he declined to do. 
 " While we were talking." he continues, " we heard the sound 
 of approaching steps, and saw the attorney's corps, with solemn 
 tread, marching towards us. My companion disappeared 
 
 1 Ch. xii.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 415 
 
 down a lane, and I walked up to meet them, and when they 
 passed me, proceeded on my way. When I reached my sister's 
 house in Buckingham Street, I found a neighbour had called 
 there, and given to my brother-in-law, who was a clergyman, a 
 handful of ball-cartridges, bidding him defend his life as well 
 as he could. So great was their alarm, they had, on parting, 
 taken a solemn leave of each other, as people who never 
 hoped to meet again. The only weapon of defence in the 
 house was a fowling-piece, which I charged with powder, but 
 found the balls in the cartridges too large for the calibre. The 
 family were persuaded to go to bed, leaving me to keep guard; 
 and with the fowling-piece on my shoulder and the large ball 
 stuck in the muzzle, I marched up and down until sunrise in 
 the morning. Meetings of the disaffected were held that 
 night in the Barley Fields (as the neighbourhood of George's 
 Church was then called) and on the strand of Clontarf. 
 More than once, in the still, calm night, I thought I heard the 
 undulating buzz and sound of a crowd, and the regular tread 
 of a mass of men marching, but all else was awfully still." 
 
 The mansion, which a few years afterwards became the 
 residence of Alderman Beresford, M.P., commanded, as it 
 still commands, magnificent prospects from its upper apart- 
 ments. To the north opens a view of great extent over the 
 Clontarf estuary, the country from Glasnevin and Santry to 
 Howth, and the Bay of Dublin east of the Poolbeg Lighthouse. 
 Southward are seen the rounded outline of the Dublin moun- 
 tains, Bray Head, with its tufted knobs, and the peaked 
 summits of the Wicklow range ; while immediately in the fore- 
 ground, backed by the graceful line of those heights, the city 
 is spread out like a map, showing conspicuously the church 
 steeples and towers, the green dome of the Four Courts, the 
 cupola of the King's Inns, and the Custom House amidst the 
 shipping in the river and the docks. 
 
 The style of living which was adopted when Alderman 
 Beresford, with his Scottish wife and troop of handsome 
 children, removed to Buckingham Street, was "the same sort 
 of singing, dancing, and dinnering life " so much in vogue in 
 Dublin at that time. The master of the house, though in 
 personal habits simple and plain enough, was generous in 
 expenditure and magnificent in hospitality. Tall and some- 
 what gaunt in figure, he was not, at least at this period of his life,
 
 416 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 without a touch of the family grace about him. He had some 
 good features, and his manners were agreeable and unpre- 
 tentious. Truth to say, he was amiable and good-natured in 
 private life, bore an excellent character as a family man, made 
 no distinction in society or in the household between Protes- 
 tants and Catholics, and was not without friends and well- 
 wishers. 1 Indeed, if he had not possessed the goodwill of 
 many of his fellow-citizens, he never could have held his 
 ground after the transactions of '98. 
 
 Beauty and fashion were in the right place passing up and 
 down the wide staircase, and sweeping through the fine 
 drawing-rooms of the Buckingham Street mansion ; while the 
 alderman and banker's city friends, patrician relatives, and 
 country supporters, had abundant reason to laud his cordiality 
 and praise the cuisine. During his occupancy, a Dublin 
 architect executed for him a great improvement by removing 
 the old basement storey, laying foundations at a greater depth, 
 which he faced with hammered limestone, vaulting the cellars 
 and storerooms, and extending the culinary accommodations. 
 The neighbours, unused to such architectural feats, were 
 amazed to see the alderman's big house, supported on uprights, 
 standing without its fandamental storey. This change being 
 effected, there was nothing wanting to the comfort and con- 
 venience of the house, which had been built, we believe, by 
 the First Commissioner of the Revenue. 
 
 When Mr. Beresford held hospitalities in the high and wide 
 red house that overtops Dublin and commands splendid pro- 
 spects, there were usually among his guests Sir John Stevenson 
 and his beautiful daughters, Anna and Olivia. The composer 
 was just then engaged in arranging the Irish airs, for which 
 Moore was writing the immortal words. The early numbers 
 of the Melodies were being published by Mr. Power, of Dame 
 Street ; the musical world of professors and amateurs were kept 
 on the qni vive, in a state of alternate expectation and delight ; 
 and so irresistible was the charm of music and verse, that Erin 
 and her sorrows became the favourite theme in circles com- 
 
 1 Dr. R. R. Madden, in his Lives oj the United Irishmen, says that John 
 Claudius Beresford lived, ' ' when he waxed old, on decent terms with Roman 
 Catholics, nay, even went out of his way to promote the interests of some 
 men who had suffered much in purse and person in 1798," vol. i. p. 356, 
 2nd ed.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 417 
 
 posed of the betrayers of her honour, and the slayers of her 
 sons. 1 Weep on, sang the poet to the mourning children of 
 the nation survivors of the day of disaster and disgrace 
 
 " Weep on perhaps in after days 
 
 They'll learn to love your name ; 
 When many a deed shall wake in praise 
 
 That now must sleep in blame ! 
 And when they tread the ruin'd aisle, 
 
 Where rest, at length, the lord and slave, 
 They'll wondering ask how hands so vile 
 
 Could conquer hearts so brave." 
 
 Sir John Stevenson, who enjoyed as much as any man the 
 convivial meetings in Mr. Beresford's great dining-room, was 
 also quite at home among the evening guests, who talked and 
 sang beneath a blaze of wax lights in the drawing-room. He 
 was of middle height and slight figure, handsome, and invari- 
 ably well dressed. At times, when he had his company 
 manners on, he was a little pompous, but more frequently he 
 lapsed into those boyish and paradoxical ways, which Moore 
 tells us used to make the matter-of-fact English people stare 
 whenever he visited the sister island. Under the influence of 
 lyric inspiration, as in the hour he sang "Give me the Harp of 
 Epic Song," or touched the tender chords that sighed o'er 
 " Faithless Emma," or set the anthems for the choirs of St. 
 Patrick's and Christ Church, he cast the spell of poetry on all 
 around him. His voice was full of charm ; and the violin, his 
 favourite instrument, responded under his hand to the soul of 
 music within him. Both his daughters had the gift of beauty, 
 
 1 " Les Irlandais aiment a faire de la patrie un etre reel qu'on aime et 
 qui nous aime ; ils aiment a lui parler sans prononcer son nom, et a con- 
 fondre 1'amour qu' ils lui vouent, cet amour austere et perilleux, avec ce 
 qu' il y a de plus doux et de plus fortune parmi les affections du cceur. II 
 semble que, sous le voile de ces illusions agreables, ils veuillent deguiser a 
 leur ame la realite des dangers auxquels s'expose le patriote, et s'entre- 
 tenir d'idees gracieuses, en attendant Pheure du combat ; comme ces 
 Spartiates qui se couronnaient de fleurs, sur le point de perir aux Ther- 
 mopyles. . . . C'est un grand litre a la reconnaissance d'une nation 
 que d'avoir su chanter, en vers capables d'etre populaires, sa liberte 
 presente ou passe'c, ses droits garantis ou violes. Celui qui ferait pour la 
 France ce que M. Moore a fait pour 1'Irlande serait recompense au-dela 
 de ses peines par 1'estime du public et par la conscience d'avoir rendu 
 service a la plus sainte de toutes les causes. " Augustin Thierry, Dix A/is 
 cC Etudes Historiqiies, 
 27
 
 41 8 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 but one, Olivia, likewise possessed pre-eminently the gift of 
 song. No one better understood the spirit of Moore's songs. 
 It used to flatter the poet greatly when, apropos of one of his 
 new lyrics, Stevenson would exclaim, " How finely Olivia would 
 sing that ! " Destined to become the wife of a nobleman, she 
 had just then to receive the addresses of humbler suitors. 
 One of these became enamoured at the parties in Buckingham 
 Street, and, full of youthful confidence, made a proposal for 
 the hand of the fair Olivia. However, as he had no particular 
 prospects in life, save a vague expectation that his father would 
 do something for him, his suit was peremptorily rejected by 
 her father. Possibly Sir John preferred for a son-in-law one 
 who had more music in his soul than this not very engaging 
 youth, as well as a more substantial income to begin life with ; 
 and possibly, too, the lady's fancy inclined the same way. At 
 anyrate, she soon after married Mr. Edward Tuite Dalton, a 
 gentleman of acknowledged taste, connected with the amateur 
 musical societies of Dublin, and promoter of a glee club 
 patronised by the Duke of Leinster and the Earl of Meath, 
 for which Moore, an honorary member, wrote a charter glee, 
 set to music by Stevenson. Mr. Dalton held some post in the 
 Custom House, and was, therefore, in a rather better position 
 than the rejected suitor, who, however, in after years found 
 himself in more independent circumstances than his early rival. 
 Moore, who counted Mr. Dalton among his dearest friends, 
 dedicated to him his "Sacred Songs," many of which were set 
 to music by Sir John Stevenson. In the poet's journals and 
 correspondence one frequently notes the affectionate terms in 
 which he speaks of the Daltons ; and in the " Rhymes on the 
 Road " there is a burst of loving recollection, quite touching to 
 read even now. The bard is in Italy in places which should 
 be " thrilling alive with melody." Yet he has heard no music 
 
 " not a note 
 
 Of such sweet native airs as float, 
 In my own land, among the throng, 
 And speak our nation's soul for song." 
 
 Nor even in higher walks, where art makes richer the gifts 
 that are scattered by the wayside, does any taste win his 
 perfect praise like his dear friend Dalton's, or any voice charm 
 his ear like Olivia's,
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 419 
 
 "She, always beautiful, and growing 
 
 Still more so every note she sings 
 Like an inspir'd young sibyl, glowing 
 
 With her own bright imaginings ! 
 And thou, most worthy to be tied 
 
 In music to her, as in love, 
 Breathing that language by her side, 
 
 All other language far above." 
 
 And then his thoughts revert to the days when her father 
 led their evening choir, and Time itself seemed changed to 
 music, and they lived in song ! How graceful is the tribute to 
 Stevenson 
 
 " He who, if aught of grace there be 
 In the wild notes I write or sing, 
 First smooth'd their links to harmony, 
 
 And lent them charms they did not bring." 
 
 Lord Byron knew the Daltons, and used to meet them at 
 London parties. On one occasion, writing to Moore, he tells 
 him that Mrs. Dalton sang one of his (Moore's) best songs so 
 well that, only for the appearance of affectation, he could have 
 cried. Moore wonders what was the song ; was it, " Couldst 
 thou look?" Mr. Dalton died of a lingering and painful 
 disease, and, after two years of widowhood, Olivia, still young 
 and beautiful, became Countess of Bective. This event gave 
 occasion to an impromptu " attributed " to the facetious Lord 
 Norbury, who, having heard of the marriage, is reported to 
 have answered 
 
 "Yes Stevenson always was good at a glee, 
 But the daughter excels at a catch ! " 
 
 Moore still continued to keep up cordial relations with the 
 countess, as well as with her sister Anna, who was married to 
 Mr. Lambert of Beaupark. We find in his journals such 
 entries as this : " Sang with Lady Bective and her daughter 
 some of the songs she and I sang together before that daughter 
 existed, I believe." And again : " Lady Bective's daughter 
 Adelaide sang some Italian things with the true hereditary 
 taste and feeling." 1 In due course the Earl of Bective 
 
 1 It is, of course, the daughter of Mr. Dalton who is here referred to. 
 The countess's second family were not, however, without a share of the 
 gift of song. Charles Dickens, writing from Lausanne, in September 1846,
 
 420 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 
 
 succeeded to his father's title, and his charming wife became 
 Marchioness of Headford. To her, under her new title, Moore 
 dedicated the tenth number of the Irish Melodies, recalling 
 once more the happy circle that met to sing the earlier 
 numbers together under her father's roof. Stevenson had 
 gone to another world at that date ; but, with true and faithful 
 feeling, the poet made the last of all the Irish Melodies a song 
 of sorrow for the friend who first suggested to him the work in 
 which their names are indissolubly associated, and which has 
 done so much to "preserve to their country the only grace or 
 ornament left to her out of the wreck of all her liberties 
 and hopes." 
 
 "Silence is in our festal halls 
 
 Sweet son of song ! thy course is o'er ; 
 In vain on thee sad Erin calls, 
 
 Her minstrel's voice responds no more: 
 All silent, as th' /Eolian shell 
 
 Sleeps at the close of some bright day, 
 When the sweet breeze, that waked its swell 
 
 At sunny morn, hath died away. 
 
 " Yet, at our feasts, thy spirit, long, 
 
 Awaked by music's spell, shall rise ; 
 For name so link'd with deathless song 
 
 Partakes its charm and never dies : 
 And ev'n within the holy fane, 
 
 When music wafts the soul to heaven, 
 One thought of him, whose earliest strain 
 
 Was echoed there, shall long be given. 
 
 " But, where is now the cheerful day, 
 
 The social night, when, by thy side, 
 He, who now weaves this parting lay, 
 
 His skilless voice with thine allied ; 
 And sung those songs whose every tone, 
 
 When bard and minstrel long have past, 
 Shall still in sweetness all their own, 
 
 Embalm'd by fame, undying last? 
 
 tells his correspondent that a most agreeable addition to their own special 
 circle were two nice girls, the Ladies Taylor, daughters of Lord Headford. 
 They were of the party that visited the convent of the Great St. Bernard. 
 'Their mother was daughter (I think) of Sir John Stevenson, and 
 Moore dedicated one part of the ' Irish Melodies ' to her. They in- 
 herit the musical taste, and sing very well." Foster's Life of Dickens, 
 vol. ii.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 421 
 
 " Yes, Erin, thine alone the fame 
 
 Or, if thy bard have shared the crown, 
 From thee the borrow'd glory came, 
 
 And at thy feet is now laid down. 
 Enough, if Freedom still inspire 
 
 His latest song, and still there be, 
 As evening closes round his lyre, 
 
 One ray upon its chords from thee." 
 
 But the singing and dinnering life was destined to come to 
 a sudden termination in Buckingham Street. Mr. Beresford, 
 though so many resources were open to him, 1 some way or 
 another did not manage his affairs well. He became an 
 insolvent, his name disappeared from the banking firm with 
 which he was connected, his seat in Parliament was left vacant, 
 and his effects, including his valuable library, were brought to 
 the hammer. 2 A grimly fantastic turn was given to this day 
 of distress by the appearance once more upon the scene of 
 Horish's fraternity. The sweeps purchased the alderman's 
 carriage, and in their sooty livery drove the elegant equipage 
 up and down the streets of Dublin. It was not, however, to 
 be supposed that a member of so powerful a house could be 
 irretrievably ruined by one stroke of ill-fortune. Though no 
 longer a banker or a county member, he still held his place in 
 the Corporation. He gave up his town residence, but only to 
 retire to a splendid retreat. He removed with his family to 
 Drumcondra House, a stately mansion in Portland stone, 
 erected about the middle of the last century by the Earl of 
 Charleville, on the estate of his wife, the only daughter and 
 heir of James Coghill, LL.D., of the Yorkshire family of that 
 name. 
 
 The new resident's editorial tormentor affected to take a 
 great interest in the Drumcondra establishment, making 
 
 1 His numerous offices and pursuits were thus burlesqued: "Mr. 
 Beresford has been a banker, a brickmaker, a limebumer, a distiller, 
 miller, and a lamplighter, but became insolvent." 
 
 - The library contained all the British classics, from Chaucer to Gibbon 
 and Johnson, and a beautiful collection of French books. There were 
 also in it valuable artistic works, foreign galleries, etc. Well chosen as 
 this library was, it still could not compare with that of the Right Hon. 
 John Beresford, which was sold after the death of its owner. The collec- 
 tion of engravings sold with the books was choice indeed, and did honour 
 to the fine taste of the First Commissioner of the Revenue. The catalogues 
 of these two sales are in the library of Trinity College.
 
 422 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 observations on the way in which the pleasure-walks were 
 being laid out, and suggesting that it might suitably be named 
 Mount Horish, in compliment to a friend who had once held 
 a triangle situation under the proprietor in the riding-house. 
 The singing-hall, it was ascertained, had been tried by the 
 vocal powers of Mr. Spray, who declared the echo would be 
 unparalleled as soon as the croppy skulls were inserted in the 
 walls. But stories to the effect that the stucco ornaments 
 of the breakfast and supper rooms were to be designed in 
 triangular and whip-cord patterns were pronounced to be 
 malicious fabrications, for it was known the proprietor was 
 determined that no visible marks of such materials of Irish 
 history should be introduced, either to gratify the whipping 
 visitors or frighten the whipped ones. 
 
 There could hardly be a nicer house for a family to grow 
 up in than this. The rooms, not too vast or splendid for 
 comfort, were panelled in brown oak, and opened five en 
 suite ; the ceilings were good, and the chimney-pieces of 
 beautiful design ; while the large, deeply-recessed windows 
 looked out on well-planted, well-kept grounds. A door in 
 the boundary wall, which on one side ran near to the house, 
 gave admission to the enclosure of the parish church, and a 
 pathway across the graveyard l afforded the family easy access to 
 their place of worship. Mr. Beresford's children, treading their 
 way along the path, and taking their places in the pew belonging 
 to the owner of Drumcondra House, used to be as familiar a 
 sight to the congregation as was the minister in the pulpit. 2 
 
 1 Drumcondra churchyard is, even to the present day, the burial-place 
 of some Dublin families. It is the last resting-place of the poet, Thomas 
 Furlong. Francis Grose, the antiquary, is buried here ; and in the same 
 vault lie the remains of his friend, James Gandon. There appears a very 
 strange inscription on the tablet erected to the memory of the writer, 
 whose unfinished work on the Antiquities of Ireland is, perhaps, like a 
 broken column, his best monument on Irish soil. Not a line marks the 
 resting-place of Gandon. His name, indeed, might fitly be inscribed, 
 although he needs no "pompous epitaph upon his marble" as long as 
 those noble buildings shall remain, in perfect beauty or in picturesque 
 decay, upon the riverside. 
 
 - Some years later on, another troop of children, for whom the public 
 (at least those outside the church) had more welcome, used to trip along 
 the same path and sit in the same pew. These were the grandchildren of 
 Lord Edward Fitzgerald. Major-General Sir Guy Campbell, Bart., who 
 was married to the younger Pamela, resided for some years at Drumcondra 
 House.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 423 
 
 The stables, a remarkable block, with groined roof supported 
 on stone pillars, stood at right angles to the house front, and 
 in very unusual proximity to the dwelling, from which, how- 
 ever, it was screened by a row of trees. More than once it 
 has been asserted that these stables were built for "Beres- 
 ford's Bloodhounds " ; certain spots are indicated as the scene 
 of tragic incidents ; and one of the fine old trees is pointed 
 out as the gibbet on which rebels were hanged by order of 
 the master of the house. We are, however, bound to say that 
 we can find no trace in history of any such proceedings. The 
 stables, which are, to all appearance, of an older date than 
 the era of the rebellion, may possibly have sheltered some 
 yeomanry corps at the time when the royal troops were 
 stationed in the village to protect the northern route. It is 
 not impossible that some private hanging may have been 
 accomplished in the neighbourhood while military law was 
 the only law of the land. By the Drumcondra Road, no 
 doubt, Lord Roden's Foxhunters brought into town the 
 miserable rebels taken in the affray at Santry, and afterwards 
 hanged on the bridges. One thing, however, is certain, 
 namely, that Mr. Beresford did not live at Drumcondra 
 House until fourteen or fifteen years after the rebellion. Nor 
 do we believe that anything more remarkable occurred in the 
 house and premises during Mr. Beresford's occupancy than 
 the brilliant illumination of the establishment, in rejoicing for 
 some victory won by British arms in the Peninsula a victory 
 in which we may be sure Marshal Lord Beresford, a greatly 
 distinguished general and a close connection of the Waterford 
 family, had had a creditable share. 
 
 Alderman Beresford was residing here when, in 1814, he 
 was elected Lord Mayor of Dublin, an office which, by the 
 way, he appears to have filled to the complete satisfaction of 
 the citizens. When his equipage, as newly-installed chief 
 magistrate, appeared in the streets, the crowd looked in 
 wonder at the crest painted on the doors, presenting between 
 a stag's horns the image of the crucified Redeemer, with the 
 motto, Nil nisi crtice. " Beresford," said a contemporary, 
 " wore on his coach more Christianity than he would allow in 
 his parish church." 
 
 The present condition and character of the fine town house 
 and the handsome country residence of Mr. John Claudius
 
 424 OLD HOUSES RE-STORIED 
 
 Beresford afford as striking an example of the vicissitudes of 
 fortune as any of the instances already cited. The Bucking- 
 ham Street mansion, we need hardly repeat, is the locale of 
 the Children's Hospital. In the upper storeys with the 
 beautiful prospects, dwell the sisters of the community to 
 which the institution belongs. The bright drawing-rooms are 
 considered the best possible place for the sick children, who 
 lie there in their pretty white cots, to have their temporary 
 ailments cured and their crooked limbs made straight ; or, if 
 death have already cast its shadow across their little span of 
 life, to have the passage smoothed for them to the heaven 
 peopled with the saints of the Isle of Destiny and the martyrs 
 of the Gaelic race. Above the mantelpiece, in the front room, 
 hangs suspended a large sculptured crucifix, signifying there 
 something very different from the crest of La Poer. The 
 lofty lower rooms that once re-echoed with convivial laughter, 
 the clinking of glasses, and " the glorious, pious, and immortal 
 memory," drunk with three-times-three, are now respectively 
 the reception-room of the convent, and the chapel wherein 
 reigns the reverential silence that befits the sacramental 
 presence of the Saviour of men. 
 
 Drumcondra House and Park became, in 1842, the property 
 of the Missionary College of All -Hallows, having been 
 purchased from the Corporation during the mayoralty of 
 Daniel O'Connell. The mansion remains unaltered in ex- 
 ternal appearance. Over the doorway is still conspicuous the 
 Coghill crest, a cock with wings expanded. Handsome as the 
 house is, with its surmounting balustrade, the originally im- 
 posing elevation is considerably dwarfed by the high-pitched 
 roof and the square tower of the new collegiate buildings. 1 
 The stables, deprived of their leafy screen, fitted with glazed 
 windows and a clock dial, look like nothing so much as just 
 what they are a distinct, though integral, part of the educa- 
 tional establishment, in which are the class-rooms and the 
 chapel of the junior students. 
 
 From out the postern door no phantom Bloodhound horses 
 issue forth with mailed hoofs to stamp out insurrectionary 
 pride. Through the wicket no one cares now to pass into 
 
 1 See the Rev. John O'Hanlon's Lives of the Irish Saints, vol. i. p. 348, 
 for an excellent view of All-Hallows, including the old mansion, the 
 chapel, and the new college.
 
 OLD HOUSES RE- STORIED 425 
 
 the pathway to the church. But, year after year, through 
 wide open gates, marches out a chosen army of the Lord, to 
 plant on eastern plains and western shores the standard of the 
 holy cross, and turn upon arid soil the streams of living water 
 from founts that never yet ran dry in the land of faith and 
 sorrow.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE 
 ROTUNDA 
 
 SHOULD the muse of history, when embodying, some eighteen 
 or twenty years hence, the record of our much-vexed era, 
 find herself obliged to say or sing that the hundredth anniver- 
 sary of the Convention of Dungannon passed over without 
 any worthy commemoration, what a shame it would be for 
 Ireland ! 
 
 Certain it is that no adequate memorial of the volunteers 
 signalised the year of grace just passed away. Neither was 
 there very much said during that term in allusion to an event 
 which one hundred years ago aroused the spirit of long- 
 suffering nationality, and shook the land from sea to sea. 
 
 And yet we doubt whether so ominous a blank will mar the 
 page that must ere long be written. History concerns herself 
 hardly at all with motives, intentions, and omissions ; she takes 
 up the pen to narrate facts mainly ; and it is quite possible that 
 posterity, glancing through the chapter for which we in Ireland 
 are now enacting the scenes, will simply take it for granted 
 that the exhibition opened at the Rotunda last autumn l was 
 designed to be, and was in fact, an expression of the nation's 
 sympathy with, and undying memory of, the men of '82. 
 
 Unquestionably there were circumstances connected with 
 the planning, the inauguration, and the conduct of that ex- 
 hibition which forcibly recall transactions of the earlier period, 
 and tend to show that the spirit of the volunteers arose once 
 more to quicken not a section merely of the population, but 
 
 1 This article was written in 1883. 
 426
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 427 
 
 the mass of men who are in fact the nation. This impression 
 is scarcely lessened by the reflection that certain analogies 
 between recent and remote occurrences were at the moment 
 unobserved, while certain no less significant contrasts likewise 
 passed without a comment. 
 
 That the National Exhibition created so vivid an interest 
 and proved so complete a success, sufficiently indicates that 
 the motive of the enterprise must have been something very 
 different from that which commonly prompts the getting up 
 of a glass palace crammed with raw materials, wrought fabrics, 
 objects of art, and relics of antiquity. The world, indeed, 
 is pretty well tired of manufacture exhibitions, pure and 
 simple. 
 
 Although the circumstances are still fresh in the memory of 
 our readers, we may be allowed, nevertheless, to refer in a 
 passing way to one or two points in the history of the recent 
 exhibition. 
 
 At a moment of great political excitement and serious dis- 
 ruption of the status quo, it was a happy idea, certainly, to 
 divert men's minds into the ways of peace, to bring under 
 general notice the stores of natural products possessed by 
 Ireland, to collect specimens of manufacturing skill and suc- 
 cessful handicraft produced in the country, to show by 
 examples in what paths of high art Irishmen have acquired 
 renown, and to excite that spirit of trade enterprise which 
 unfortunately for many years past has lain dormant in this 
 island. As originally planned in the autumn of 1881, the 
 enterprise promised well. Personages of distinction in Church 
 and State lent their countenance to the undertaking ; corpora- 
 tions and merchants of high standing expressed a readiness to 
 assist in a practical way ; a suitable building was placed at the 
 disposal of the committee; and a guarantee fund of ^25,000 
 was readily subscribed. 
 
 However, before a month had elapsed, the hopes thus 
 excited were dashed to the ground. The promoters of the 
 arts of peace quarrelled over a question of patronage and 
 ceremonial. One party, standing out for a strict adherence to 
 forms hitherto observed, and insisting that royal favour should 
 be besought, was encountered by another party which regarded 
 such a proceeding as a piece of useless flunkeyism, and 
 firmly declined to solicit the countenance of the head of the
 
 428 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 realm, or that of any other personage royal orviceroyal. Both 
 parties turning out irreconcilable, disruption ensued. Those 
 who dreaded even the faintest suspicion of disloyalty, whose 
 interests might seem imperilled, or whose respectability ran 
 any risk of being sullied, forthwith retreated. The aristocracy 
 vanished, the merchant princes strode away, one important 
 body of men refused to contribute either in money or in kind, 
 a host of guarantors of various gradations of solvency and 
 standing hastened to relinquish all participation in the pos- 
 sible glory and the certain risk of carrying the enterprise to 
 completion. 
 
 At the very moment when the movement seemed virtually 
 abandoned, a few gentlemen, inspired by genuine patriotism, 
 set to work to kindle from the ashes of the extinguished pro- 
 ject a spark of life and hope. Their energy and confidence 
 happily proved contagious, and their appeal to the nation met 
 with a generous response. A limited liability company was 
 speedily formed, and a Board of Directors appointed. Shares 
 to the amount of nearly ^30,000 were taken, and every part 
 of the country proffered aid and encouragement. In fact, a 
 truly national movement was set on foot, and the promoters 
 announced that an Exhibition of Irish Manufactures would 
 open on the i5th of August 1882, the day fixed for the un- 
 veiling of the O'Connell monument. 
 
 Still, all difficulties had not been vanquished by the resolu- 
 tion to dare and do. A new embarrassment presented itself 
 when it was made known that the old exhibition building in 
 Earlsfort Terrace would neither be let nor lent to the new 
 company. At all hazards, then, a site must be procured and 
 an edifice erected. One effort after another to obtain a con- 
 veniently-situated plot of ground on the south side of the city 
 having failed, an arrangement was made with the governors of 
 the Rotunda Hospital, by the terms of which they consented, 
 on payment of ^1500, to permit the erection of a temporary 
 building in the garden of Rutland Square, and to allow the 
 historic Rotunda and the adjoining public rooms to be used 
 for the purposes of the Exhibition. 
 
 From the nth of May, when the first sod was turned and 
 the builders' work commenced, to the date fixed for the 
 opening ceremony, there remained but eighty-three working 
 days for the erection of the new edifice, the renovation of the
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 429 
 
 Rotunda rooms, and the allotment to intending exhibitors of 
 100,000 square feet of space. 
 
 From whatever source hitches or hindrances may have 
 arisen, and in minor matters they failed not to crop up as the 
 work proceeded, the artisans engaged on the building could 
 not be accused of creating obstruction. The conduct of the 
 workmen all through was singularly creditable. From the 
 outset they put their heart into the work, laboured early and 
 late, cheered and encouraged one another, and, as each part 
 neared completion, talked of the achievement as of something 
 in which they were themselves personally and proudly con- 
 cerned. The first authority in this matter, the Board of 
 Directors, has in a graceful manner placed on record its 
 testimony to the energy and skill of the tradesmen employed 
 on the works, as well as to the untiring zeal of the professional 
 and official staff. 1 
 
 According, therefore, as the summer days hastened on, the 
 green sod swarmed with busy, spirited " hands," the architect's 
 design took form, and the shimmer of glass walls and roof 
 began to show among the giant elms of the square. 
 
 Disadvantages there were, no doubt, in the configuration of 
 the ground. Architectural skill was severely taxed in over- 
 coming the obstacles presented by the inequality of the sur- 
 face. It detracted from the dignity of the new structure that 
 it should be approached by a descent from the circumjacent 
 roadway. Moreover, it was not possible to connect the glass 
 building with the Rotundo rooms in an effective and har- 
 monious way. But these and other disadvantages were more 
 than counterbalanced by the appropriateness of the situation ; 
 for the spot on which the company devoted to the cause of 
 Irish Arts and Industries flew its flag and set up its trophies, 
 is historic ground, and can boast of associations which no 
 other place, spoken of as suitable for the National Exhibition, 
 can claim. 
 
 About the middle of the eighteenth century, the area now 
 occupied by the hospital, the Rotunda and adjoining buildings, 
 and the garden of the square, was a piece of waste ground 
 with a pool in the hollow, and a few cabins on the slope. 
 Great Britain Street, a space on the north side of which this 
 plot is appropriated, passed over the head of Sackville Street, 
 1 Introduction to the Complete Official Guide,
 
 430 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 and stretched its length as far as the church of St. George, 
 that is to say, the old pile now standing derelict in Lower 
 Temple Street. Beyond lay a suburban region remarkable 
 for its lovely view and salubrious air, and having detached 
 residences embowered in trees, and tenanted by people of 
 fortune. Orchards flourished on the site of Cumberland 
 Street and Mecklenburgh Street. Immediately north and 
 east of the present Rutland Square, nothing was to be seen 
 but open country. Dorset Street properly so-called extended 
 not so much farther than the spot on which the Bethesda 
 stands, and then the line of road assumed the name of Dorset 
 Lane until it merged into the completely rural Drumcondra 
 Lane. But that the city had some notion of spreading itself 
 northward might be assumed from the fact that a row of 
 mansions already proceeded up the hill almost in a straight 
 line from Sackville Street, and, although having no better fore- 
 ground than the waste plot already described, took the aristo- 
 cratic name of Cavendish Street. Sackville Street, inhabited 
 exclusively by families of high rank, extended no farther than 
 Henry Street, and had in the centre a space, enclosed within 
 a low wall, planted with trees, frequented as a promenade, 
 and designated the Mall. In Marlborough Street, Henry 
 Street, and Mary Street, very distinguished families resided. 
 Henrietta Street was one of the most fashionable quarters of 
 the town, and Dominick Street held the same rank, with its 
 mansions and large gardens ranged on one side only of the 
 roadway. 
 
 Altogether, this part of Dublin had an aristocratic air 
 perfectly in keeping with the quality of its inhabitants. There 
 was no crowding. Green openings and full-grown trees held 
 their ground, and all the houses had gardens in the rear. 
 The wretched masses of the population kept to their native 
 lanes on the other side of the river. It was- only now and 
 then that daring scouts of the standing army of 2000 beggars 
 advanced as far as the patrician quarters at the north side of 
 the city. Capel Street was the most public part of the town 
 thereabout, forming, as it did, the main line of communication 
 with the thoroughfares in which stood His Majesty's Castle, 
 the Houses of Parliament, the tholsel, and the cathedrals. 
 Essex Bridge, the nearest bridge to the sea in those days, and 
 a tumble-down, unsightly structure, was about to be rebuilt in
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 431 
 
 a style suitable to its importance as the chief pass between the 
 two great divisions of the city. 
 
 Meanwhile, the piece of unoccupied ground skirting Great 
 Britain Street, and facing Sackville Street, had attracted the 
 attention of a citizen who coveted its possession with a not 
 unholy greed, imagined a splendid structure rising on its 
 front, and beheld, in his mind's eye, the desert background 
 blossoming as a rose. The worthy individual who set his 
 heart on this vineyard, and yet thereby endangered no man's 
 peace, was Dr. Mosse, a physician practising in Dublin, and 
 enjoying high esteem for his professional ability and singularly 
 benevolent disposition. 
 
 Bartholomew Mosse, a native of Maryborough, in the 
 Queen's County, was born in the year 1712. Having studied 
 medicine and devoted himself to obstetrics, he settled early 
 in life in the Irish capital. His active charity brought him 
 into daily contact with the impoverished and suffering classes 
 of the population ; his compassion became strongly excited by 
 the wretched condition of poor women when the time of their 
 confinement approached, and they found themselves without 
 medical aid or any kindly succour ; and he resolved to do all 
 in his power to have an hospital established, in which the 
 relief and nursing they stood in need of should be gratuitously 
 supplied. When, therefore, at the outset of his career, he 
 visited England, and travelled into France, Holland, and 
 other parts of Europe, with a view of perfecting his studies in 
 surgery and midwifery, he laid himself out particularly to 
 inquire into and observe the hospitals of the different countries 
 he sojourned in. 
 
 On his return to Dublin, being determined to begin his 
 benevolent work on a small scale, he took a house in St. 
 George's Lane, 1 furnished it with twenty-four beds, and in 
 1745 opened there the first hospital of the kind ever estab- 
 lished, it is said, in the British dominions. In the first 
 instance, it would appear that he did not receive much assist- 
 ance from fellow-members of the medical faculty, but was left 
 
 1 The present South Great George's Street. On that line in former 
 days were the mansions and parks of wealthy and distinguished people. 
 The house taken by Dr. Mosse stood opposite Fade Street, and was 
 occupied not long before by Madame Violante, the celebrated panto- 
 mimist,
 
 432 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 almost unaided in his attendance on the poor women who 
 gratefully availed themselves of his charity. The expenses 
 of the undertaking were defrayed by his own purse chiefly, 
 and by the proceeds of lotteries, plays, concerts, and oratorios. 
 
 Dublin was exceedingly musical in those days, and as 
 charitable then as it is even in our own generation; and a 
 great part of the funds spent on the hospitals and other 
 charitable institutions of the city were provided through the 
 exertions of the several " Charitable Musical Societies " then 
 existing. It will be remembered that shortly before this date 
 Handel had been invited over, and that under his superin- 
 tendence a public performance of the Messiah the first 
 ever given of the great oratorio, as is now generally admitted 
 took place in the Fishamble Street Music Hall, for the 
 benefit of Mercer's Hospital, the Charitable Infirmary, and 
 Imprisoned Debtors. 1 
 
 Foreign vocalists and instrumentalists often crossed the sea 
 to perform in the Irish capital, and some of the number took 
 up their abode permanently among the music-loving citizens. 
 It therefore surprised no one that Dr. Mosse should take much 
 trouble in getting up concerts and oratorios, or that he should 
 bring over the Italian Castruccio as an attraction at perform- 
 ances got up for the benefit of his work of predilection.' 2 
 
 1 The visit to Dublin of this renowned composer had more than a 
 transitory effect. "It became the custom to perform his oratorios and 
 cantatas, for the benefit not only of the charitable institutions already 
 existing, but also of several medical charities, which, about this time, 
 were established in the Irish metropolis. This custom was kept up for 
 many years. Besides Mercer's Hospital and Infirmary, the Lying-in 
 Hospital and the Hospital for Incurables derived repeated benefit from 
 frequent performances of his music. Perhaps the works of no other 
 composer have so largely contributed to the relief of human suffering as 
 those of this illustrious musician." Account of Handel's Visit to Dublin, 
 by Horatio Townsend. 
 
 - Castruccio remained in Dublin, but for some reason or another sank 
 into penury and oblivion. He was often seen gathering sticks to make 
 his fire, dressed in the suit of black velvet which he usually wore when he 
 appeared in public. His poverty was not known to those who could re- 
 lieve him, and he died in 1752. It adds to the pathos of the story that his 
 funeral was superb, and was graced with the presence of some of the first 
 characters in the nation. The procession formed a fine concert, vocal and 
 instrumental, through the streets. So great was the concourse of people in 
 St. Mary's Churchyard (Jervis Street), where the interment of the musician 
 took place, that the parish beadle was crushed to death. See Walker's 
 History of the Irish Bards, and Recollections of the Life of John O'A'eeffe.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 433 
 
 Wider sympathy was enlisted by the publication of annual 
 reports giving statistical and other details; the institution 
 attracted attention ; and Dr. Mosse had not been three years 
 carrying on his charitable work when he received from London 
 an application for the plan and regulations of his hospital. 
 This inquiry was preparatory to the establishment of a kindred 
 institution in the English metropolis in 1748. A couple of 
 years later, two other hospitals of the same kind were opened 
 in that city. 
 
 George's Lane house was, by this time, quite unable to 
 accommodate the numbers seeking admission, and Dr. Mosse 
 revolved in his mind one scheme after another for raising 
 money to purchase a site and build an hospital. Just at this 
 juncture he cast his eyes on the piece of waste ground in 
 Great Britain Street. A better site for the handsome and 
 capacious building which he longed to see erected could 
 hardly be hoped for. There was a greater area, no doubt, 
 than was wanted for building purposes ; but then the ground 
 might be turned to account, and made to produce a quota of 
 the much-needed funds. At anyrate, on the 25th of August 
 1748, he took the plot, consisting of 4 acres 19 perches, on a 
 lease of lives renewable for ever, at the yearly rent of IQ ; 
 and immediately began, at a cost of about ^2000 of his own 
 income, to lay out a garden, which he hoped would become 
 an attractive place of promenade and recreation for the nobility 
 and gentry residing in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Shrubberies were planted, ornamental walks laid out, 
 pavilions and a coffee-room erected, fountains and waterworks 
 set going. Statues and coloured lamps adorned the walks, 
 and an orchestra, expensively decorated, graced the upper part 
 of the enclosure. Animation being imparted to the scene by 
 the performance of a band of music, nothing seemed wanting 
 to the attraction of the New Gardens. The earls and the 
 countesses, the viscounts and the barons, the right honour- 
 ables and honourables, with the crowd of gentry residing in 
 Dublin, began at once to take advantage of the enjoyment 
 offered to them, assembled on summer evenings in the 
 pleasure-ground prepared for their patrician presence, and, by 
 the very fact, made the speculation a complete success. A 
 constant resort of company during the season kept up the 
 fashion and the charm, and the charity obtained through that 
 28
 
 434 
 
 source alone profits to the amount of several hundred pounds 
 annually. 
 
 So delighted was the doctor with the beauty of the garden, 
 that he employed M. Grezoni to paint a picture of the scene, 
 introducing the company, the musicians, and every available 
 accessary. He paid one hundred pounds for this picture, 
 which was considered a masterpiece, and he intended to have 
 an engraving of it executed, which would sell for three half- 
 crowns each copy. The work was sent to France to be 
 engraved, but, unfortunately, it was seized on being landed 
 there, and never was recovered. 
 
 Meanwhile, Dr. Mosse had little leisure for contemplating 
 the beauty of the New Gardens. The question of ways and 
 means had become engrossing. George's Lane house must be 
 supported, the building of the new hospital had to be provided 
 for, serious schemes carefully elaborated did not always prove 
 successful, and, as a matter of course, the philanthropist met 
 with contradictions from some who could not enter into the 
 feelings which animated his own charitable heart. However, 
 he had reason to count on the aid of a few influential friends ; 
 and a promise of popular support might seem to be indicated 
 by the fact that a number of persons of different occupations 
 subscribed four shillings and fourpence a year, paid quarterly, 
 for the erection of the new hospital. Timber and other materials 
 were collected ; a noble design was obtained from Mr. Cassels, 
 the architect ; * and with about ^500 in his hands and a great 
 hope in his heart, Dr. Mosse resolved at all hazards to set the 
 builders at work. 
 
 As the hospital was mainly intended for the relief of the 
 poor of the city, the doctor considered it only proper to give 
 the Lord Mayor the honour of laying the foundation-stone. 
 Accordingly, the chief magistrate was invited to perform the 
 ceremony. On the 4th of June 1751 he rode to the New 
 Gardens with his attendants, went through the prescribed forms, 
 and subsequently partook, in the parlance of the period, of a 
 "genteel and liberal entertainment" provided by the founder. 
 
 1 See a curious account of the German architect who made Ireland his 
 home, in Whitelaw's History of Dublin. His principal designs were the 
 town and country mansions of the Duke of Leinster, Viscount Powers- 
 court's residence in the county of Wicklow, Tyrone House, and Dr. 
 Mosse's Hospital.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 435 
 
 Many persons, understanding that the new edifice would 
 cost about ^20,000, and knowing that funds were not lodged 
 for that purpose, looked on Dr. Mosse as a madman, or a 
 builder of castles in the air. It does not, however, appear 
 that anyone questioned his right to set up his hospital in the 
 company of lordly mansions. No one begged leave to remark 
 that property would suffer deterioration, and the fitness of 
 things be infringed, by the erection of an eleemosynary 
 institution right in the face of Sackville Street. The aristocracy 
 of the land displayed no such illiberality in a matter concerned 
 with the interests of the poor, as the aristocracy of the desk 
 has manifested in days nearer to our own. Neither the fashion 
 of the locality nor the prestige of the New Gardens was likely to 
 be at all affected by the presence of Mr. Cassels' elegant structure. 
 
 As far as the funds permitted, the work was carried on with 
 vigour. The doctor expended his whole personal fortune on 
 the undertaking, mortgaged his estate, and raised all the money 
 he could on his own credit. Up to the end of 1755 ne had 
 procured or collected ^11,694, chiefly by means of plays, 
 oratorios, and lotteries, for the support of the George's Lane 
 house, and the building of the new hospital. Now, however, 
 the failure of one of his schemes brought on embarrassment, 
 his resources were quite exhausted, and he was in hourly 
 danger of arrest and imprisonment. At this juncture, some 
 persons of high rank, to whom he had communicated his 
 situation, encouraged him to make an application to the House 
 of Commons, and pray their aid to pay off the debts he had 
 contracted on account of the hospital, and to enable him to 
 finish the undertaking. Accordingly, a petition, with full 
 statement of accounts and a report of the condition of the 
 hospital, was presented to the Irish Parliament on the 23rd of 
 March 1756. In response to this application, a grant of 
 ;6ooo was voted for the specified purposes. 
 
 Later in the same year, a charter was obtained to incorporate 
 a number of noblemen and gentlemen as governors and 
 guardians of the hospital ; and, before another twelve months 
 had elapsed, the governors and guardians having again 
 petitioned Parliament, the honourable House granted, on 
 the nth November 1757, a further sum of ^6000 for the 
 building, together with ^2000 to Dr. Mosse in recognition of 
 his exertions in the cause of humanity.
 
 436 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 By this time the hospital was nearly finished, the upper 
 floor was furnished with fifty beds, and the founder wished no 
 longer to delay the opening of the institution. As the head of 
 the municipality had been invited to lay the first stone of the 
 edifice, so now the representative of royalty was requested to 
 perform the concluding ceremony. The Duke of Bedford, 
 Viceroy of Ireland, his duchess, and a great number of the 
 nobility and gentry, assembled at the hospital on the 8th 
 of December 1757, and, the institution having been thrown 
 open with all due form, were entertained at breakfast by the 
 now joyous founder. Music, as was customary and proper, 
 lent a charm to the proceedings, and during the repast the 
 distinguished company were delighted with a concert of vocal 
 and instrumental music. 
 
 The institution being now established on a permanent basis, 
 countenanced by the legislature, and befriended by the 
 aristocracy of the land, Dr. Mosse proceeded to add to the 
 splendid edifice he had raised such details as would ensure its 
 being in every way worthy of the spirit of philanthropy to 
 which it owed its origin, and a credit to the capital of Ireland. 
 
 He was determined, for example, that the chapel should be 
 as beautiful as money and art could make it, having the 
 intention, it is said, that it should excel anything of the size in 
 Europe. At great expense he had the stucco figures and other 
 ornaments of the ceiling executed by M. Cramillion, an artist 
 living at that time in Dublin. In the centre compartment and 
 the four shields he purposed having religious subjects 
 delineated, and with this view entered into a correspondence 
 with M. Cipriani, who was then in London, about designs. 
 For the centre, a representation of the Nativity of our Lord 
 was deemed most appropriate ; and for the shields it was 
 considered that such scenes should be selected as the Daughter 
 of Pharaoh taking Moses out of the Bulrushes, Christ blessing 
 little Children, Hagar weeping over her expiring Child and 
 calling on God for Relief, and the Midwives before the King of 
 Egypt. Difficulties, which naturally arise when Art and 
 Protestantism essay to work in concert, did not fail to present 
 themselves in the course of the correspondence, and Dr. Mosse 
 takes care to make M. Cipriani understand that his brush must 
 keep clear of Catholic reminiscences. "As this chapel," 
 writes the good doctor, "is intended only for Protestant
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 437 
 
 worship, I would have the painting entirely free from any 
 superstition or Popish representation." Unfortunately, the 
 doctor died before the negotiations with the painter had been 
 brought to a conclusion, and his successors appear to have 
 thought it unnecessary to undertake the expense of painting 
 the ceiling. An organ ordered for the chapel was not finished 
 in the founder's lifetime ; and afterwards, being considered too 
 large and loud for its destined position, was erected in the 
 new music-room or large Rotunda. 
 
 The doctor also ordered a chiming clock and a peal of bells 
 for the steeple of the hospital ; but it stands recorded that 
 some ladies who lived in the neighbourhood insisted that 
 neither bells nor clock should be fixed there, lest the sound 
 should disturb them on mornings. He also intended to fit 
 out an observatory in the tower, and had provided a telescope 
 for it. 
 
 Nor did this worthy man confine his cares to the perfecting 
 of the material structure. His mind was occupied with plans 
 for increasing the resources of the institution, and extending 
 its influence for good. Thus the Grand Jury and gentlemen 
 of the Queen's County having, at an assize, made a collection 
 towards erecting and supporting a bed in the hospital out of 
 compliment to the founder, whom they considered an honour 
 to that part of the country, it occurred to him that it might be 
 well to apply to the other counties in the kingdom, and 
 endeavour to induce each of them to support a bed. Again, 
 he conceived the idea of having nursed, clothed, and main- 
 tained, all the children who should be born in the hospital 
 whom their parents should consent to intrust tohiscare. A school 
 was to be opened, provided with Protestant masters, and the 
 children were to be instructed in useful trades and manufac- 
 tures. As a beginning of this comprehensive scheme, he, at 
 his own expense, put out some children to be nursed. 
 
 All this time the gardens were not neglected, but were 
 further beautified, and rendered still more productive as a 
 source of revenue. Van Nost, a native of Dublin, though of 
 foreign extraction, and a sculptor of repute, was commissioned 
 to execute figures in marble and metal for the gardens, as well 
 as for the interior of the building and the pavilion in front. 
 On gala days, illuminations were got up with great splendour ; 
 and as for music, nothing was left undone to provide the
 
 438 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 best. In one year, ^1240 were expended on payments to 
 musicians. 
 
 According to the original plan, the hospital was now solidly 
 established, and destined, in all human probability, to go on 
 and prosper for many a generation. It was not granted, how- 
 ever, to the kind-hearted founder to witness for long the happy 
 results of his disinterested labours. Intense study and appli- 
 cation of mind, close attention to the business of the hospital, 
 and the fatigue of frequent journeys to London to forward his 
 lottery schemes and other pecuniary matters, seriously impaired 
 his health. In the beginning of the winter of 1758 he grew 
 very ill; and in February 1759 he died, literally in the height 
 of his work and in the midst of his days "poor as to wealth, 
 but rich in the blessings of the needy, and of those who were 
 ready to perish." 
 
 We have condensed the foregoing sketch of the life-work of 
 Bartholomew Mosse, occasionally adopting the very words of 
 the narrative, from a remarkably interesting paper contributed, 
 in 1846, to the Dublin Quarterly Journal of Medical Science. 
 Turning now to other sources of information, we shall see 
 the world of rank and fashion gathering round the hospital, 
 and observe how the more it pleased folks of quality to amuse 
 themselves, the better it turned out for the funds of the 
 institution, which, as it so happened, became the promoter of 
 a great deal of the gala life that distinguished Dublin before 
 the Union. 
 
 No better proof could be given of the solid character of the 
 institution planned, founded, and developed by Dr. Mosse 
 than the fact that his death brought about neither a collapse 
 nor an interruption of the work. His appointment as Master 
 of the Hospital for life had seemed, in so far as human 
 prevision could effect, to ensure him an opportunity of per- 
 fecting the organisation he had formed for the relief of suffering 
 humanity, the advancement of medical science, and the support 
 of an expensive and important establishment. But his early 
 death deprived the institution at a critical moment of the wise 
 control and generous self-devotion of its founder, and threw a 
 heavy responsibility on the shoulders of his successors, whose 
 term of office in each case must necessarily be limited to a 
 very few years' duration. Still, his spirit survived ; and all that 
 governors, guardians, and masters have accomplished from
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 439 
 
 that day to this may be summed up in the phrase, that they 
 maintained or extended, according to circumstances, the high 
 character and the beneficent operation of the institute which it 
 was his noble ambition to make comprehensive and enduring. 1 
 
 In regard to the important question of funds, the governors 
 and guardians had to see that the best means were taken to 
 induce the public to keep the treasury supplied. Fortunately, 
 fashion displayed, for once, a timely readiness to further a good 
 cause ; and it would have been a sin against common-sense 
 not to take the tide at the flow and afford the arbiter of the 
 gay world every opportunity of doing a good action. Perpetual 
 May cannot be looked for in any clime, least of all in Ireland, 
 and the governors soon saw the wisdom of seriously con- 
 sidering how the company frequenting the gardens might be 
 sheltered and amused on wet evenings in summer, and lured 
 to the vicinity even after winter had set in. Various expedients 
 were resorted to, with more or less success ; but at length, in 
 1763, the erection was commenced of a circular building in 
 connection with the hospital, eminently suited for concerts, 
 balls, and promenades, and capable of containing 2000 persons. 
 Exteriorly, the design was plain enough, displaying no orna- 
 mentation save some emblematic entablatures, and a curious 
 frieze in Wcdgewood representing heads of oxen and festoons 
 of drapery. The interior, however, had much that was pleasing 
 to offer to the eye. Unlike other large halls of the same con- 
 figuration, this Rotunda had no support for the roof in the 
 centre. Fluted Corinthian pilasters, enriched windows, a taste- 
 fully decorated ceiling, a splendid orchestra, and all the effects 
 of toned colour and brilliant lighting, combined to make this 
 one of the most magnificent public rooms that could anywhere 
 be seen. 
 
 Owing to its excellent acoustic properties, the Rotunda 
 
 1 This hospital is the largest chartered Clinical School of Midwifery in 
 the United Kingdom, and is in high repute all over the world. The 
 charter provides that the Master of the Hospital for the time being shall l>e 
 always some experienced practitioner ; and that he shall have two assis- 
 tants, to be proposed by him and approved of by the governors. Dr. 
 Lombe Atthill is the present master, and the assistant physicians are Dr. 
 Alex. Duke and Dr. Andrew J. Home. Among the students attending 
 the classes are, we understand, a Spaniard, a Portuguese, a Swede, and 
 six Americans. The hospital has always been largely frequented by 
 English students.
 
 440 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 became a favourite place for musical performances. The 
 governors of the hospital, men of the first rank and the highest 
 cultivation, 1 showed liberality, enterprise, and judgment in 
 providing enjoyment for the nobility, gentry, and citizens of 
 music-loving Dublin. The best performers of the day who 
 came to England were brought over to Dublin to sing or play, 
 as the case might be, at the Rotunda. Invariably the audience 
 appeared in full dress at these concerts, and, consequently, the 
 scene was as brilliant as the entertainment was delightful. 
 
 From the beginning the gardens had been thrown open to 
 the public on Sunday evenings ; and, although music was not 
 provided for the Sabbath promenade, the crowded attendance 
 showed that the worthy governors, in offering a harmless recrea- 
 tion on the day of rest, had struck on a profitable vein. As 
 soon as the Rotunda was built and decorated, its brilliant area 
 (80 feet in diameter) was included in the promenade ; while, 
 tea and coffee being provided in the recesses, the company 
 could enjoy their mild refreshment beneath the splendid 
 chandeliers. Some criticism, no doubt, the governors had to 
 sustain on the head of this Sunday dissipation ; but they met 
 the objection by quietly suggesting, in the style of the period, 
 that as a considerable Maintenance had been derived by the 
 laying open the Gardens and Public Rooms on the evenings of 
 Sundays, the Hand that would repress the latter should hold 
 out an Equivalent ! In fact, the Sunday promenade cost 
 little, and eventually realised a clear profit to the charity of 
 about ;iooo a year. 2 
 
 The Rotunda, when not otherwise engaged, was likewise 
 thrown open on the week-day evenings dedicated to garden 
 amusements. A striking and agreeable feature of the evening 
 
 1 The Royal Charter nominated as governors, the Lord -Lieutenant for 
 the time being, the Primate, the Lord Chancellor, the Speaker of the 
 House of Commons of Ireland, the Lord Mayor of the City of Dublin, the 
 Archbishop of Dublin, the Commander-in-Cbief of the Forces, the Earls of 
 Kildare for ever, and a number of others, distinguished by their rank in 
 Church and State. 
 
 2 Dr. Campbell (Historical Survey, Letter III.), speaking of the Sunday 
 promenade, does not undertake to determine whether this entertainment is 
 strictly defensible in a religious point of view ; but he wonders how it is 
 that London, so fond of amusement, and so ready to adopt new fashions of 
 dissipation, has not struck out something similar for passing those hours 
 which on some people sit so heavy, and which may, after all, be spent in a 
 much worse manner.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 441 
 
 recreations was the harmonious mingling of classes in the pro- 
 menade. In those days the aristocracy dined early and had a 
 long evening to dispose of. Staying at home did not suit their 
 taste. They were social, loved movement, and shrank not at 
 all from the admiring gaze and near contact of a crowd. 
 Possibly, also, they may have flattered themselves that their 
 condescension conferred a public benefit, and that by their 
 presence they "awed into propriety" the meaner multitude. 
 On the other hand, the citizens highly enjoyed the sight of the 
 titled notabilities and their following of landed and official 
 gentry ; and here, in the gardens and the Rotunda, they were 
 free to gratify their curiosity at a very trifling cost. The 
 admission, on open evenings, was the fivepenny coin of the 
 realm. All, therefore, who occupied a commonly decent 
 position, could afford themselves the enjoyment of the music, 
 the gapeseed, and the novelty of the promenade. Reminis- 
 cences of foreign civilisation must have struck those visitors 
 who were acquainted with the habits of continental life and 
 dwelt with an observant eye on the scene. Anyhow, an air of 
 graciousness and freedom prevailed, and lent a charm to these 
 gatherings of the high and mighty, the simple and the un- 
 renowned. 
 
 And, undoubtedly, the fashionable and distinguished com- 
 pany were worth looking at. If we could see them as they then 
 appeared, we should fancy that they had issued forth from the 
 theatres rather than the lordly mansions of the town, such 
 were their airs and graces, such the splendour and variety of 
 their costume. Fashions, of course, changed from time to 
 time, but considerable freedom was enjoyed throughout the 
 eighteenth century. People chose the colours and adopted the 
 style that satisfied their taste, or suited their figure and com- 
 plexion. This was particularly the case with men of noble 
 birth or otherwise distinguished. They might be recognised 
 in a crowd by their garb alone. A portly figure, dressed in 
 scarlet, with full-powdered wig and black velvet hunting-cap, 
 could be no other than Lord Trimbleston ; a suit of light blue 
 announced Lord Gormanston ; and Mr. Coote (afterwards 
 Earl of Belmont) made himself conspicuous by his silk coat, 
 satin shoes with red heels, and elegant feathered hat. Even in 
 his old age, Lord Taaffe preferred to wear a whole suit of 
 dove-coloured silk ; while Lord Molesworth dressed in groom
 
 442 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 style, with coloured silk kerchief; and Lord Clanricarde in- 
 variably donned his regimentals. Macklin, the actor, adhering 
 to the fashion of 1720, appeared with stockings rolled over his 
 knees, long flaps to his waistcoat, enormous cuffs, and so forth ; 
 but Geminiani, the musician, attired himself in blue velvet, 
 richly embroidered with gold. 1 
 
 In the matter of hairdressing, too, some personages took 
 extraordinary liberties. At a time when everybody else 
 powdered and frizzled very much, Mr. Conolly of Castletown 
 wore his long hair combed down and without powder ; and 
 Lord Harcourt, the Viceroy, looked particularly venerable with 
 his grey locks all about his shoulders. Even ladies showed at 
 times a daring spirit of innovation in this capital affair. 
 Beautiful Anne Cately took a fancy to wear her hair plain 
 over her forehead, in an even line almost to her eyebrows, 
 and the Dublin ladies, following her example, had their hair 
 Cately fied.- 
 
 Masquerades became the fashion not very long after the 
 Rotunda was built ; and the governors lost no time in arranging 
 so that these brilliant entertainments might take place within 
 their precincts. The Fishamble Street Music Hall was suffi- 
 ciently well adapted for such festivities ; but the Rotunda had 
 the advantage of an easier approach and greater space, and 
 consequently became a favourite scene of revelry. On mas- 
 querade nights the neighbourhood, and indeed the whole city 
 north and south, was in a state of commotion from seven 
 o'clock in the evening. It was customary on these occasions 
 
 1 Macklin was well known, off as well as on the stage, in Dublin. He 
 had a residence in Drumcondra Lane. Geminiani, of whom there is an 
 interesting account in Hawkins' History of Music, was offered the post of 
 Master and Composer of State Music in Ireland, but declined from con- 
 scientious motives, as the situation could not be held by a Catholic. He 
 died in Dublin. 
 
 2 Miss Cately obtained an engagement at the Dublin theatre at .40 a 
 night, and remained a considerable time in Dublin, living with her mother 
 in the same neighbourhood as Macklin. O'Keeffe, in his Recolletlioits, 
 gives some highly amusing traits of Macklin and Miss Cately during their 
 abode in Dublin. A dramatist by profession and something of an artist by 
 taste and training, O'Keeffe had acquired the good habit of using his eyes 
 intelligently and noting the little incidents and traits that bring out or in- 
 dicate character. He seldom omits in his description of men of eminence, 
 an accurate sketch of the style of dress they affected. We are indebted to 
 him for the costumes in the text
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 443 
 
 for the various characters to visit and walk through the state 
 apartments of the mansions of the principal nobility and 
 gentry in the city, which were thrown open for their reception 
 and entertainment 1 Humbler folks were thus afforded an 
 opportunity of feasting their eyes and passing their comments 
 on the masqueraders, descending from their coaches, or carried 
 past in their sedans on their round of preliminary calls. 
 About midnight the company came crowding into the Rotunda, 
 and for hours the merriment knew no check. 
 
 By this time it was quite plain that the hospital, with its 
 circular annexe and lovely gardens, had made the fortune of 
 the circumjacent district Fine houses in a stately line had 
 risen up on the north and west sides of the enclosure; 
 and these, like the mansions in Cavendish Street, were 
 greatly in request as residences for the nobility and gentry. 
 Lord Charlemont, resolving to build a town house in a 
 better situation than that occupied by the family mansion 
 in the immediate vicinity of St Mary's Churchyard, could 
 fancy no position more desirable than a site adjacent to 
 Cassels* stately fabric. Accordingly, he purchased a plot 
 north of the grounds, and commanding a full view of the 
 garden front (or, as we have seen it designated, the back- 
 front) of the building.- Charlemont House, finished in 1773, 
 was designed by the noble owner, who had a singularly correct 
 taste in architecture, and was much admired for its simple and 
 effective style. Speaking of the lately completed mansion, a 
 writer of the time remarks, that nothing could be more elegant 
 than the structure or more delightful than the situation, on a 
 little eminence exactly fronting Mosse's Hospital, with those 
 beautiful gardens lying between, where the genteel company 
 
 1 See Dr. Gilbert's History of Dublin. 
 
 - Inadvertently, a description of the structure was omitted from the first 
 pan of this paper. An outline-sketch may be thus supplied : The central 
 building, constituting the body of the hospital, is a handsome fabric, 125 
 feet in length by 82 in depth. The principal front is composed of mountain 
 granite. The centre, decorated with four Doric columns on a rude base- 
 ment, and supporting a beautiful entablature and pediment, the whole 
 crowned with a domed steeple, has a truly elegant eflect. Ornamented 
 colonnades communicate with the wings, which have also Doric columns 
 and rases at top that to the east serving as an entrance to the Rotunda 
 and new rooms. The front towards the gardens is also of mountain 
 granite, but is judiciously devoid of ornament Cromwell's Excursions 
 through Ireland^ 1820 ; Brewer's Beauties of Ireland, 1825.
 
 444 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 walk in summer evenings, and have concerts of vocal and 
 instrumental music thrice a week. 1 
 
 In course of time the Rotunda was found worthy of being 
 something more than a scene of revelry, a concert hall, and 
 "a polite place of public resort on Sunday evenings." It was 
 destined to receive the prouder title of " The Forum of Ireland." 
 Undoubtedly, the most striking scene that ever took place 
 within its walls was that enacted on the loth of November 1 783, 
 when the delegates of the volunteer corps of the four provinces 
 assembled to inaugurate the congress known in history as the 
 Rotunda Convention. 
 
 At noon on that day the delegates met, as prearranged, in 
 the Royal Exchange ; and, having elected the Earl of Charle- 
 mont president, and John Talbot Ashenhurst and Captain 
 Uawson, secretaries, adjourned to the Rotunda, as a building 
 better adapted for the accommodation of a very large delibera- 
 tive assembly. Truly imposing was the procession which took its 
 way forthwith across the city amidst the booming of artillery 
 and the clangour of regimental bands. Corps of the volunteer 
 army lined the streets, arms presented and colours flying, 
 while other detachments of the same force took part in the 
 procession. Among those moving in the line of march were 
 a troop of the Rathdown Carbineers, headed by Colonel 
 Edwards of Oldcourt ; the Liberty Brigade of Artillery, under 
 the command of Napper Tandy ; a company of the Barristers' 
 Grenadiers, with a national standard ; another brigade of 
 artillery commanded by Counsellor Calbeck, and escorted by 
 the Barristers' Corps in scarlet and gold ; and the cavalry corps 
 of the Cullenagh Rangers, attending the delegates as a guard of 
 honour, and led on by young Jonah Barrington. The chaplains, 
 in their cassocks, walked with their respective corps. Lord 
 Charlemont, accompanied by a squadron of horse, advanced 
 at the head of the delegates, who walked two-and-two, each in 
 the uniform of his respective corps, carrying his side-arms, and 
 having a broad green riband across his shoulders. The rear 
 was brought up by the Lord Bishop of Derry (Earl of Bristol), 
 in an open carriage drawn by six splendidly caparisoned horses, 
 and escorted by a bodyguard of light dragoons, raised by his 
 nephew, George Robert Fitzgerald. An enthusiastic crowd 
 occupied the streets, filled the windows, and covered the house- 
 1 Dr. Campbell, Philosophical Survey,
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 445 
 
 tops, cheering the delegates and showering green ribands on 
 them as they passed. 
 
 According as the troops of the national army arrived at the 
 Rotunda, they took up their position within view of the build- 
 ing. Presently the firing of cannon announced the approach of 
 the delegates, and the doors flew open to receive the represen- 
 tatives of 100,000 volunteers. Each man as he entered doffed 
 his helmet or his hat, while the multitude without filled the air 
 with their joyous acclaim. 
 
 Within the scene was brilliant. The great circular room had 
 been arranged for the assembly ; seats in the manner of an 
 amphitheatre were ranged round the chair, and the orchestra 
 was filled with ladies. One hundred and sixty delegates took 
 their seats, their escorts massed around them. But on such 
 a day of intoxicating excitement, formal deliberation was out 
 of the question. A resolution was passed affirming the funda- 
 mental principle of the Dungannon Convention ; all business 
 was adjourned till the morrow ; and the evening closed with 
 illuminations, music, and high conviviality. 1 
 
 During three weeks the Convention held its session : the 
 Rotunda daily embracing within its ample circumference an 
 assembly of citizen-soldiers which formed, in a scenic sense, 
 hardly less motley and picturesque a gathering than the 
 masquerading gentry who had. lately quit the stage. Invariably 
 the delegates appeared in their respective uniforms. No two 
 men were dressed or armed alike. Cavalry, infantry, grena- 
 diers, and artillery were mingled together; generals and sergeants, 
 colonels and privates, sat side by side. The greater number 
 were men of rank and fortune, many were members of Parlia- 
 ment, Lords and Commons ; but some of inferior position 
 debated with the rest. Individually, men figured in that scene 
 at one and the same time in different characters. Lord Charle- 
 mont was at once president of a deliberative assembly and 
 commander-in-chief of the volunteer army. Flood thundered 
 forth his senate-house eloquence in the scarlet uniform, with 
 green facings, of the Dublin Independent Volunteers, of which 
 the parliamentary leader was lieutenant -colonel. Richard 
 Lovel Edgeworth, the man of letters from Longford County, 
 
 1 See the account of the day's proceedings in MacNevin's History of the 
 Volunteers ; but more particularly in Barrington's fiise and Fall of the 
 Irish Nation, from which we borrow freely.
 
 446 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 had to support the character of aid-de-camp to the generalis- 
 simo. The Bishop of Deny (Earl of Bristol), and delegate of 
 the county of Deny, figured first and before all things as a 
 princely democrat. Of course, he donned no uniform, but the 
 elegance and singularity of his dress distinguished him in the 
 assembly. He robed himself entirely in purple, wearing dia- 
 mond knee and shoe-buckles, and white gloves with gold fringe 
 and tassels. 1 He was eccentric; he was magnificent; he 
 cherished the wildest ideas. One of the wildest of all was the 
 idea that the Catholics of Ireland might safely be intrusted 
 with the elective franchise, and ought forthwith to have that 
 right conceded to them ! This was more than the renowned 
 patriots Charlemont and Flood could conceive or countenance. 
 
 One day there came to the Convention not as a delegate, 
 but as a visitor a tall, thin man, dressed in a complete suit of 
 brown, with white stock and powdered wig. As he entered 
 the building, the volunteer guard turned out and received him 
 with a full salute of rested arms. The whole assembly rose 
 when he appeared, and he marched up the hall amidst the 
 deafening cheers of the delegates. This was the honorary 
 chaplain of the Irish Brigade (Volunteer Corps), the gifted 
 Capuchin, "the great Romanist priest," Father O'Leary. 
 
 Meanwhile the town was a scene of excitement, festivity, 
 and military parade. Detachments of country corps had come 
 up with the delegates. Serving without pay, self-clothed and 
 armed, these patriot-soldiers had supplied themselves with 
 new dresses and accoutrements for the pacific campaign in 
 Dublin. A great proportion of the cavalry were mounted on 
 hunters, the Bishop of Derry's escort being provided with the 
 finest chargers that could be procured. The duty of the 
 volunteer force seemed to consist in escorting the delegates 
 and careering about in all directions. Grenadiers were ordered 
 to mount an officer's guard at Charlemont House ; the magni- 
 ficent bishop had a guard of horse in front of his residence ; 
 and dragroons patrolled the entire city. Open -house was 
 kept for the gallant visitors by the hospitable citizens. In a 
 word, the volunteer uniforms were to be seen in the private 
 
 1 The bishop rode to the Convention in regal state, "displaying the 
 self-complacency of a favourite marshal of France, on his way to Versailles, 
 rather than the grave deportment of a prelate of the Church of England." 
 Hardy's Life of Charlemotit, vol. ii.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 447 
 
 houses, in the streets, everywhere. This military occupation 
 of the capital, contemporaneous with the sittings of the Con- 
 vention, was long remembered in the domestic annals of 
 Dublin, and undoubtedly had a considerable effect in develop- 
 ing the taste for lavish expenditure and unrestrained conviviality 
 for which the citizens were already becoming remarkable. 
 
 While the pride of life was thus mastering the thoughtless 
 crowd, conflicting passions were agitating the centres of political 
 and governmental action. The Convention, sitting at the 
 Rotunda, pledged to digest and publish a plan of parliamentary 
 reform, and to pursue such measures as might appear to them 
 most likely to render it effectual, considered and debated, 
 voted and contended, throughout the anxious three weeks' 
 session. The Parliament sitting in College Green, watching 
 with jealous eyes the doings of the Congress on the other side 
 of the river, and fully determined not to reform itself, prepared 
 for the inevitable conflict. The Lord-Lieutenant and Council, 
 sitting in His Majesty's Castle, distracted by the perils of the 
 hour, hardly knew what to do or what to expect. 
 
 At length, the Reform Bill, drawn up at the Rotunda, was 
 ready. In the afternoon of Saturday, the 29th of November, 
 it was ordered that Henry Flood, accompanied by such Mem- 
 bers of Parliament as were also members of the Convention, 
 should immediately go down to the House of Commons and 
 move for leave to bring in a Bill, the facsimile of the one just 
 approved of, the Convention at the same time declaring its 
 sittings permanent until the fate of the Bill should be decided. 
 
 Extraordinary was the sensation created in the House, where 
 several of the minority and all the delegates who had come 
 from the Convention appeared in their uniforms. A tempes- 
 tuous debate ensued, waxing wilder as the hours rolled by ; until 
 at last, as day began to break, the calm of a settled resolution 
 succeeded to the rush of oratory and the storm of contention. 
 Parliament denounced the idea of a Bill introduced at the 
 point of the bayonet ; repudiated the dictation of a body of 
 armed men " sitting in all the parade and in the mockery of 
 parliament in that pantheon of divinities, the Rotunda"; and 
 affirmed its fixed determination to maintain its privileges and 
 rights against any encroachments whatsoever. Flood's motion 
 was lost on a division of 157 to 77. 
 
 In the Rotunda, meanwhile, wore on the silent hours. Vainly
 
 448 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 awaiting the herald of victory, exhausted and desponding, the 
 Convention at length relinquished the vigil. Slowly and sadly 
 the members withdrew. 
 
 Next day, Sunday, a large number of the president's par- 
 ticular friends met him at Charlemont House, and a plan of 
 action, or rather an attitude of inaction, was agreed to. Dif- 
 ferent accounts are given of what took place at the Rotunda 
 on Monday, the ist of December. One thing, however, is 
 certain : the Convention there and then adjourned sine die. 
 
 The defeat of the Rotunda Convention, in its contest with 
 the Parliament sitting in College Green, was a fatal blow to the 
 volunteers. Their prestige vanished. For some years, no 
 doubt, they maintained their organisation unbroken, and 
 continued on every available occasion to display their martial 
 pageants, and to hold their jovial meetings. But Government 
 ceased to regard the patriot-soldiers with serious alarm, and 
 the Nationalists of that day relinquished the high hopes they 
 had founded on the military character assumed by the civic 
 ranks. 
 
 In fact, the volunteers had failed in strategy by attempting 
 with undue precipitation to follow up the successes they 
 obtained in 1782. They had talked and vaunted and 
 attempted too much, and their imprudence seems only to have 
 furnished their wary adversary with motives for a sinister and 
 far-reaching plan of operations, designed for the subversion of 
 the structure so proudly raised by the men of '82. 
 
 The author of a curious book, entitled The Irish Abroad 
 and at Home, writing about fifty years ago, says that, on a 
 hundred occasions, he has heard contemporaries of the men who 
 freed the foreign trade and achieved the legislative independ- 
 ence of Ireland, maintain that the patriots, instead of proclaim- 
 ing their success, should have dissembled their estimate of it ; 
 instead of announcing projects for further steps towards com- 
 plete independence of the sister kingdom, should have 
 assumed an attitude of content, and used every possible 
 means for removing from England and her Government all 
 sense of soreness from the concessions torn from her ; and, 
 instead of revelling in the interval succeeding the fortunate 
 struggle, should have applied all their sagacity and energy to 
 ensuring, at least, the undisturbed enjoyment of the fruits of it. 
 "There would appear," he continues, "to have been suggested
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 449 
 
 to England, by the declaration of Irish Independence, and by 
 the conduct of the popular party subsequently, fear for the 
 connection : an impression which determined, I have always 
 heard, a defensive attitude in the first instance, and ultimately 
 measures for the recovery of British domination in Ireland, 
 and then for securing its permanency." And furthermore, he 
 refers to a startling, though not, he thinks, an unjustifiable 
 surmise, that the Duke of Rutland, who was appointed Lord- 
 Lieutenant of Ireland immediately after the adjournment of 
 the Rotunda Convention, was sent " with a view to the 
 demoralisation of its patriotic aristocracy," and for the 
 purpose of "diverting the public mind from grave concerns," 
 so as to " render the resumption of British power practicable 
 and facile." 1 
 
 It seems monstrous to attribute motives so malign to Mr. 
 Pitt, the youthful statesman, who, on becoming First Minister 
 of the Crown, desired that the Duke of Rutland should under- 
 take the government of Ireland. We are not called upon just 
 now to enter into the question, but the fact must nevertheless 
 be emphasised, that with the break-up of the Rotunda Con- 
 vention the era of the volunteers virtually ended, and "The 
 Rutland reign " began. 
 
 Although some five years older than the Premier, His Grace 
 of Rutland was not yet thirty years of age. Between them a 
 warm attachment had long subsisted ; to the influence of the 
 duke, Lord Chatham's son was indebted for his first seat in 
 the House of Commons; and when it became known that 
 young Pitt was to have the seals, rumour added that the rich 
 and handsome peer was to have Ireland. In the month ot 
 February 1784, the duke set out for his government, accom- 
 panied by Mr. Thomas Orde (afterwards Lord Bolton), an 
 excellent man of business, according to repute, and well 
 qualified to hold the post of Chief Secretary to the Lord- 
 Lieutenant at that juncture in the affairs of the sister kingdom. 
 
 1 The full title of the book, now not easily procurable, runs thus : The 
 Irish Abroad and at Home ; at the Court and in the Camp. With 
 Souvenirs o/ (( The Briga<ie" Reminiscences of an Emigrant Milesian. 
 It was published in New York in 1856. The " Emigrant Milesian " thinly 
 veiled the personality of the well-known Paris correspondent of the Times, 
 Mr. Andrew O'Reilly, in whose rambling chapters will be found a great 
 deal of matter highly interesting even to the present generation of Irish- 
 men in every quarter of the globe, 
 29
 
 450 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 His Grace's itinerary would give a fair idea of the pleasures 
 of a journey to Ireland one hundred years ago. We get a 
 glimpse of the viceregal party en route, in a letter written by 
 the Hon. John Beresford, also on his way to Dublin, and 
 dated Chester, February 22, 1784. The duke, it seems, had 
 an ugly accident in riding from Belvoir. His horse fell, 
 crushing the rider's leg. The hurt was serious, and the 
 surgeon, dreading mortification, endeavoured to prevail on the 
 traveller to remain quietly for a day, at least, in Chester. 
 Advice, however, was thrown away. The duke would not 
 tarry on the road, neither would he take the surgeon with him. 
 Having arrived in Chester at six o'clock on the morning of 
 February 20, he set forward again in the afternoon of the 
 same day, though obliged to be carried into a chaise. Mr. 
 Orde followed in a couple of hours. Mr. Beresford tarried 
 behind, wondering how the viceregal party could possibly get 
 through ; for it was snowing as if heaven and earth would 
 come together, and they would want above twenty horses 
 enough to exhaust the whole stock on the road. Moreover, 
 the coach, just arrived at Chester, brought word that there was 
 neither packet-boat nor yacht at Holyhead. His Majesty's 
 yacht, which left Dublin at the same time as the packet, had 
 been blown out of her course, God knows where. When the 
 last of the distinguished travellers arrived at Holyhead, on the 
 22nd, they found the duke very lame, the wind very high, and 
 no sign of the yacht. However, the packet had come into 
 harbour, and, going on board, the viceroy, with his friends 
 and suite, sailed for the shores of Erin. 1 
 
 Early in the afternoon of the 24th, the vessel arrived at her 
 moorings in Poolbeg. The duke went on board the Ringsend 
 barge, and was safely landed on Rogerson's Quay, where he, 
 with his whole suite, stayed to breakfast, dress, and refresh 
 themselves, for upwards of three hours, at the Royal Marine 
 Hotel. 2 
 
 Young and handsome, with a well-knit powerful frame ; of 
 noble bearing, yet affable withal ; a lover of the arts, and a 
 generous dispenser of a princely fortune, the Duke of Rutland 
 would seem to have been the beau-ideal of an Irish viceroy. 
 Though not without ability and the power of applying himself 
 to business when necessary, he left the burden of affairs to his 
 
 1 Beresford Correspondent, vol. i. 2 Jjibernian Magazitie, 1784.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 451 
 
 Secretary, made the amenities of social life his study, and 
 devoted his energies to the task of " drinking the Irish into 
 good humour." Mr. Orde, indeed, to do him justice, was no 
 way deficient in practising the art of pleasing ; and when we 
 remember what were the gifts and graces of the Duchess of 
 Rutland, we can understand that the new Lord-Lieutenant was 
 not badly supported in his role (supposing it to have been 
 assumed) of diverting Ireland from her grievances. 
 
 Mary Isabella, Duchess of Rutland, was amiable and gay, 
 fond of magnificent surroundings, and elegant in all her tastes. 
 She was singularly beautiful. In Ireland, she was allowed to 
 be one of the handsomest women in the Green Isle. Else- 
 where, it was said, she was one of the loveliest, perhaps, in 
 Europe. The Court over which she presided was certain, 
 therefore, to be splendid in no ordinary degree, and quite free 
 from any tinge of gloom in its grandeur. 
 
 No time was lost in inaugurating the new regime. The 
 duke made it his business to be present at a grand review of 
 the volunteer corps of the city and its vicinity ; he received a 
 deputation from the Roman Catholics, and graciously replied 
 to their address ; and St. Patrick's festival recurring soon after 
 his arrival, he celebrated the occasion with quite unexampled 
 splendour ; in fact, " with that respect and magnificence," to 
 quote a print of the day, " that we would expect to see in the 
 Court of an independent kingdom rising to its proper rank 
 among the other nations of the earth." A banquet, at which 
 the Knights of St. Patrick were entertained, opened the 
 programme of the evening's festivities ; a ball followed, in 
 which the company appeared in fancy characters and dresses ; 
 and a supper was served consisting of "every curiosity that art 
 could procure, imagination suggest, or the season furnish." 
 
 Unfortunately, the citizens of Dublin were not, during the 
 early part of the duke's viceroyalty, in a mood to be easily 
 cajoled. They were chagrined by the rejection of the Volun- 
 teers' Reform Bill, still further excited by the ill-success of 
 another measure of reform subsequently framed by Henry 
 Flood, and exasperated by the injurious condition of the 
 trading relations between England and Ireland. 1 Though the 
 
 1 The trade grievance of that day is succinctly stated in Mr. Walpole's 
 lately-published and admirable Short History of the Kingdom of Ireland, 
 chap. ix. An extremely interesting account of the great debate in the
 
 452 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 Lord-Lieutenant was not personally responsible for the evils 
 which weighed on the community, the populace did not hesitate 
 to visit him with their displeasure. On the first occasion 
 when he appeared at the theatre, he was hooted and insulted, 
 the " Volunteers' March " was struck up, a general uproar 
 ensued, and the entertainments of the evening were brought to 
 a summary conclusion. Things came to a worse pass in the 
 summer of 1785, when much distress existed, and the city 
 was a scene of tumult and disorder. Military were posted in 
 different parts of the town, and the garrison was kept in con- 
 stant readiness for action. The duke, "beholding open 
 violence, and suspecting secret conspiracy," wrote to the 
 Prime Minister that Dublin was, in a great measure, 
 under the dominion and tyranny of the mob, and that he 
 was by no means sure the corps of volunteers in the 
 neighbourhood were not countenancing the outrages com- 
 mitted. 1 
 
 However, it does not appear that, after the tumultuous scene 
 in the theatre, the chief governor was again in danger from the 
 personal violence of the irreconcilables. His Excellency was 
 not wanting in courage, and this, together with the jovial strain 
 in his patrician constitution, counted in his favour with the 
 men he had ostensibly to govern. He was in a fair way to 
 overcome, in the long run, the rougher element in the State. 
 As for the more respectable body of Dublin traders, they 
 discovered before long how blessed they were in a Lord- 
 Lieutenant who spent so freely, made the capital city so 
 attractive, and formed so successful a school of profitable 
 gentry, rack-renting the country to enrich the town. And as 
 for the gay and brilliant aristocracy, they were only too well 
 content to sail a-down the stream of time in the same boat with 
 His Excellency Youth at the prow and Pleasure at the helm. 
 If only this delightful regime were lenthened out, what might 
 not be expected in the interests of the metropolis and the 
 nation ! 
 
 Meanwhile the governors, guardians, and trustees of the 
 
 Irish Parliament on the trade question will be found in a letter from Mr. 
 Woodfall, the first parliamentary reporter, to Mr. Eden, dated Dublin, 
 Aug. 16, 1785, and given in the first volume of The Journal and Corres- 
 pondence of William Lord Auckland. 
 1 Stanhope's Life of Pitt, vol. \.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 453 
 
 hospital founded by Dr. Mosse were not asleep. On the 
 contrary, they were fully awake to the fact that the sun was 
 shining, and that it was their duty to work while it was yet day. 
 They experienced no difficulty in enlisting the magnificent 
 viceroy's interest in their charitable work. The Duke of 
 Rutland subscribed handsomely to the hospital, and proved so 
 good a friend that a fine ward was named after him, and 
 adorned with his escutcheon. To supply the wants of the 
 noble and fashionable part of the population by helping them 
 to "fill up the vacant intervals of time," the governors now 
 projected a scheme for increasing the accommodation afforded 
 by the ball and concert-room, and so fully availed of by the 
 gay world. It was resolved to erect a new building in connec- 
 tion with the Rotunda, which would enable the leaders of 
 society to hold assemblies "public" in a certain sense, but 
 protected with all the safeguards so dear to the spirit of 
 exclusiveness. It would have been rather too much for the 
 governors to undertake, unaided, the expense of the new 
 erection. Therefore the distinguished parties to whose use the 
 building should be dedicated, came forward with prompt and 
 acceptable aid. Two hundred of the leading members of the 
 aristocracy subscribed towards building the new rooms and 
 establishing the assemblies. Among the original subscribers 
 we find a duke or two, and a pair of duchesses ; ten earls and 
 nine countesses ; twelve viscounts and six viscountesses, with 
 a proportionate following of lords and ladies. Of course, the 
 Duchess of Rutland favoured the undertaking in every way. 
 The duke gave a large subscription, and came in person to lay 
 the foundation-stone of the building; in commemoration of 
 which generosity and condescension, his crest, encircled by the 
 collar of the garter, was subsequently carved in the tympanum 
 of the edifice, where the not inappropriate device, a peacock in 
 pride, still remains, though so begrimed with dirt as to be 
 hardly discernible. 
 
 Mr. Richard Johnson, an architect already rising to dis- 
 tinction, gave the design for the new rooms. During 
 their progress the works were carefully superintended by 
 one of the governors of the hospital, Mr. Frederick Trench, 
 "a gentleman of large fortune and great taste in the 
 Fine Arts, who devoted his time, and by his unwearied 
 exertions, to promote, by every means in his power, the
 
 454 AROUND AND AfiOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 improvement of every department of this noble charitable 
 institution." l 
 
 When finished and decorated, the building was acknowledged 
 to be eminently suited to its purpose, and worthy of the 
 distinguished company who were to dance and play, drink tea 
 and coquet within its precincts. A writer of the time describes 
 this addition to the architectural group of the hospital and its 
 adjuncts as superb, consisting of two principal apartments, one 
 over the other, each 86 feet long, by 40 feet broad : the lower, 
 with its elegant Corinthian pillars, being the ballroom ; and the 
 upper, suitably enriched, the supper-room ; while there were 
 smaller rooms for tea, cards, etc., and a convenient range of 
 kitchens and offices. 
 
 Arrangements were made for holding six assemblies annually, 
 from the 20th of January to the 2Oth of April, on weeks 
 alternate with those of the Castle balls. From the list of 
 original subscribers, twelve ladies were named to hold subscrip- 
 tion-books for each year ; and twenty of the gentlemen, whose 
 names figured in the same category, were appointed to act as 
 stewards. Among the ladies first marked as holders of 
 subscription-books, were the Duchess of Leinster, the Countess 
 of Shannon, the Countess of Charlemont, the Countess of Ross, 
 the Viscountess Delvin, and the Viscountess Kingsborough. 
 On those gala evenings the amusements began at eight o'clock, 
 with a concert of instrumental music in the Rotunda. Tea, 
 coffee, lemonade, etc., were served in the recesses, and the 
 cardrooms prepared for reception. Precisely at nine o'clock 
 a band struck up in the ballroom, and English country dances 
 commenced ; while, at the same time, another band began to 
 play in the Rotunda, where French country dances were 
 formed. Supper was served at twelve o'clock, on twenty tables 
 for fifteen persons each, " covered alike to prevent crowding, 
 and to avoid any question of preference." The caterers under- 
 took to provide articles of excellent quality, but " convenience 
 and cleanliness were to be attended to rather than show." 
 Among his duties, each of the twenty stewards had the charge 
 
 1 Life of James Gandon, chap. vii. The writer adds that the citizens of 
 Dublin are likewise indebted to Mr. Trench for his exertions in carrying 
 out other improvements in the city, and that common gratitude should long 
 since have placed a statue to his memory in one of the niches of that 
 capacious edifice (the hospital) for whose improvement and permanent 
 benefit he had devoted the best years of his long-protracted life.
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 455 
 
 of providing his table with two or more servants of his own, 
 and he was held answerable for the conduct of the men. 
 
 Dancing certainly was dancing in those days ; and that the 
 select company should have an opportunity of practising their 
 steps, mastering the intricacies of the graceful maze, and 
 advancing in the art of deportment, a rule was framed with 
 this view. It was resolved : " That in order to assist the 
 Instruction, and to accommodate the Pupils of the principal 
 Masters, free Admission Tickets (not transferable) be sent to 
 some of the principal Instructors in Dancing in this City." 
 No spectators or servants, however, except attendants, should 
 on any account be permitted to intrude into the Rotunda, 
 halls, or passages. 
 
 Departures were regulated with due attention to order. 
 Carriages drew up at the door to Great Britain Street ; private 
 sedan-chairs waited in the hospital-yard, where no numbered 
 chair should be permitted to appear under any pretence 
 whatsoever ; and public sedans stood in Cavendish Street, the 
 great door into which was opened immediately after supper. 
 
 That noblesse oblige was not forgotten by the promoters of 
 these elegant amusements, we learn from the paragraph that 
 graces and winds up the prospectus of the public assemblies' 
 scheme. " It remains with Ladies and Gentlemen of the first 
 Rank," says this document, " to determine whether this Enter- 
 tainment shall be of real use to Society as well as to the 
 Charity. Their constant Presence in the narrow Circle of a 
 Dublin Assembly must awe into propriety and repress every 
 Species of improper Conduct that an indiscriminate Association 
 might occasion." 
 
 About this time a new source of emolument was opened to 
 the infatigable trustees. By an Act of 25th George HI., 
 granted in 1785, the governors of the hospital were empowered 
 to levy a tax on private sedan-chairs ; or, in legal phrase, " to 
 collect and levy the sum of Thirty-five shillings and sixpence 
 sterling for every sedan-chair which any person shall keep in 
 his or her possession, in the city of Dublin, or within one mile 
 thereof." To families of position, in those days, one or two 
 chairs were an indispensable luxury, almost a necessary of life. 
 Gentlemen like Henry Grattan, for instance, did not disdain 
 the use of the sedan; and the ladies accomplished their 
 shopping expeditions with the aid of the same conveyance.
 
 456 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 Sometimes the chairs were elegantly painted and ornamented, 
 and it was considered good style to have a troop of laced 
 lackeys in attendance, besides the indispensable chairmen or 
 porter?. 
 
 Obliged by the Act to publish annually the names, in alpha- 
 betical order, of the several persons who had taken out a 
 licence for keeping private sedan-chairs, with their places of 
 residence, the governors took advantage of the occasion to 
 issue, in 1788, a small volume containing the required list, and 
 a great deal of matter besides. In accordance with the fashion 
 of the day, the title-page of this curious little book is in itself 
 voluminous, running thus: "A List of the Proprietors of 
 Private Sedan -Chairs at 25th March 1788, alphabetically 
 ranged, with their respective Residences, published as required 
 by La\v. A List of the original Subscribers towards building 
 the public Rooms, and establishing six annual Assemblies : to 
 which are added the Conditions ; and also a Scheme for Card 
 Assemblies, etc., with remarks on the State of the Lying-in 
 Hospital, its Buildings, and their present unfinished Condition. 
 There are likewise reinserted (as it may not be necessary to 
 intrude again on the Public), the Charter, Bye-Laws, Tables, 
 Statements, etc. Printed by Order of the Governors of said 
 Hospital." 
 
 Moreover, this " List of Proprietors of Sedan-Chairs " is 
 adorned with engravings. There are views of the hospital and 
 new buildings, a plan of the Rotunda and Assembly Rooms, a 
 facsimile of the admission ticket, and the coats-of-arms of thirty- 
 two of the principal annual subscribers, and of nine bene- 
 factors who left bequests to the hospital, varying from ^300 
 to 1000. 
 
 That the trustees had their own trouble in collecting the 
 chair-tax, may be gathered from the tone of their address to 
 "their very respectable tenantry, the proprietors of private 
 licensed sedan-chairs." Some of the Right Honourable and 
 Honourable tenants are in arrear ; and this is particularly 
 inconvenient, considering that " Duties of this Nature, accruing 
 from persons of the first rank, cannot always be collected in 
 the ordinary Modes." However deferential they may be to 
 these first-rank defaulters, they are no fools ; and they intimate 
 politely, but plainly, that when they " solicit their tenantry into 
 compliance," they are, at the same time, aware that the very
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT TflE ROTUNDA 457 
 
 trifling amount might be levied in another way, namely, by 
 distress, sale, and suchlike methods, sanctioned by the express 
 terms of the statute. Nay, they even venture to hint at the 
 possibility of calling in the aid of " the executive Civil Power 
 of this City," that is to say, the police, who are joint-proprietors 
 with them, and who, having to collect their own moiety (ten 
 shillings for each of these chairs), might as well get in the 
 hospital rents at the same time. 
 
 Besides the no-renters of the first rank, there were other 
 members of the respectable tenantry who were not above 
 resorting to the "pitiful practice" of vacating a number when 
 in arrear, and taking a new one. Very properly the trustees 
 put a stop to this abuse, by considerably increasing the fine on 
 taking out a licence. In spite of all drawbacks, the chair-tax 
 appears to have increased the hospital income by about ^440 
 per annum. 
 
 Part of the fund thus derived was spent on improving the 
 approaches to the Rotunda. None but really stupid people 
 could fancy that this was other than a useful and effective 
 piece of work ; but the way in which the trustees deprecate 
 any attempt at faultfinding is curious. "Those who re- 
 collect," say they, "the Termination of Sackville Street, half 
 obscured by a shed for Chairmen, the ruinous wall and 
 Entrance to the Rotunda, and the Deformity of its roof, must 
 possess uncommon Prejudices not to be sensible of some 
 Change." 
 
 Improvements of a more extensive character had been 
 undertaken some time before, when the high wall enclosing 
 the gardens was taken down, and its place supplied by a dwarf 
 wall surmounted by a railing, thickly set with lamps. In 
 1787 all these improvements were completed, and the gover- 
 nors might well be excused if they surveyed their domain with 
 pride. Handsome houses, fit dwellings for the noblest in the 
 land, had been erected in regular line on the north and west 
 sides of the enclosure, forming thus, with the hospital and 
 Cavendish Street, a complete square. These new rows of 
 mansions were known respectively as Palace Row and Granby 
 Row ; but it was thought that so elegant a square should have 
 rank and title as such, and receive an appropriate name. The 
 responsible parties did what was right and proper under the 
 circumstances, and RUTLAND SQUARE was the title formally
 
 458 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 conferred on the gardens and the rows of mansions over- 
 looking the enclosure. 
 
 There were forty-eight tenements in all, regularly built, and 
 numbered in the same order as at the present day. Each 
 house made an annual payment to the hospital : the sums 
 varying according to the contents of each frontage and the 
 number of private lamps at the door. One shilling and nine- 
 pence per foot was paid by these tenements for the lights on 
 the garden rails, and as a percentage to the hospital ; and 
 threepence per foot was levied for painting said rails. No 
 house had less than two private lamps in front. Some had 
 three. One only, Lord Charlemont's, lighted four. Each 
 lamp was rated at 1, 145. od. The smallest house in the 
 square was number 48, and its payments under the above 
 heads amounted to ^5, os. 4d. The largest, Charlemont 
 House, paid 16, i6s. od. The governors of the hospital, 
 being now a corporate body, undertook, besides the light- 
 ing of the square, its supervision by a proper watch and 
 patrol. 
 
 Admirable as was the action of the governors, in thus caring 
 for and beautifying the property under their charge, they by 
 no means occupied a singular position in this respect. It was 
 a season of life, hope, and movement ; extensive projects were 
 on foot for the improvement of the city, and a vast deal in this 
 direction had been already accomplished within a very few 
 years. Far down the river, on a waste expanse, the new 
 Custom House was rising up in stately beauty. Higher up on 
 its banks the new Law Courts were in course of construction. 
 Preparations were being made for extending Sackville Street 
 to the water's edge, and connecting it, by a bridge, 1 with a new 
 street to be opened from the College to the river. The new 
 front to the House of Lords was nearing completion ; and, in 
 the sculpture-yard adjoining, the colossal statues of Justice, 
 
 1 Gandon's original design for Carlisle Bridge was magnificent. He 
 intended it for a triumphal bridge to commemorate the achievements of the 
 army and navy during the reign of George III. Ten thousand pounds 
 were saved by the adoption of a simpler design. The bridge, as erected, 
 was considered to supply all reasonable requirements. It was wider 
 than either Westminster Bridge or Blackfriars* Bridge in London. Life of 
 Gandon. [Carlisle Bridge has been recently replaced by " O'Connell 
 Bridge," the full width of Sackville Street, and probably the widest bridge 
 in Europe. ED.]
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 459 
 
 Fortitude, and Liberty, intended to surmount the pediment, 
 were being executed in Portland stone. 
 
 Revisiting Dublin, after a few years' absence, strangers were 
 astonished at the changes that had taken place in the interval, 
 both with regard to its order and general appearance. John 
 Kemble, for instance, staying here in July 1788, writes to his 
 friend, Edmund Malone, who was then in England, that the 
 city is, in every particular which his observation can reach, 
 " incredibly improved." The lights, he adds " are as regularly 
 sustained by night as they are in London " ; and though the 
 citizens "affect to be oppressed in various shapes by the insti- 
 tution of the police," he knows "they keep the streets ten 
 thousand times more orderly than the old watchmen ever 
 did." l Mr. Woodfall, in the letter we have already referred 
 to, writes thus to Mr. Eden : " You, who were here so lately, 
 would scarcely know this city, so much is it improved, and so 
 rapidly is it continuing to improve. After the talk of the 
 misery of the people, in our Parliament, and in the Parliament 
 here, I cannot but feel daily astonishment at the nobleness of 
 the new buildings, and the spacious improvements hourly 
 making in the streets. I am sometimes tempted to suspect 
 appearances, and to think I am at table with a man who gives 
 me Burgundy, but whose attendant is a bailiff disguised in 
 livery. In a word, there never was so splendid a metropolis in 
 so poor a country." 2 
 
 To the general waking -up of the nation, effected by the 
 volunteer movement, and to the liberality of the House of 
 Commons in undertaking the cost of public works, this com- 
 mendable activity and its admirable results were mainly due. 
 Much, also, must be set down to the professional ability and to the 
 disinterested exertions of individuals. The Hon. John Beres- 
 ford, First Commissioner of the Revenue, and James Gandon, 
 the architect, did more for the improvement of Dublin than 
 any other men of that day or of more recent days. 3 In justice, 
 
 1 Life of Edmund Malone. 
 
 - The writer concludes his paragraph with a query worth producing 
 here. "Why," he asks, "do not those who see this and say it, fairly 
 apply a remedy encourage their tenantry, dispel the national sloth and 
 indolence of the lower orders of the people, promote industry, and teach 
 their inferiors the blessings of independence, and the happiness of living 
 comfortably by their own exertions? " 
 
 3 See " Old Houses Re-storied," in this volume.
 
 460 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 it must also be said that the Duke of Rutland did all that a 
 viceroy, of such taste, judgment, and princely spirit, might be 
 expected to do for the encouragement of the elegant art of 
 architecture, and the improvement of the seat of his govern- 
 ment. Gandon, in jotting down his recollections of this period 
 in the history of Dublin, thus speaks of the Lord-Lieutenant's 
 influence on art and on society. 
 
 " During the progress of the new Custom House, Docks, 
 Stores, House of Lords, etc., Ireland was fortunate in having 
 a Chief Governor, one of the most illustrious noblemen who 
 have resided in this country, in the person of His Grace the 
 late Duke of Rutland. The entire country seemed animated 
 by his influence and splendid hospitality. The city of Dublin 
 assumed an unwonted gaiety, and the tradesmen and manu- 
 facturers of every description hailed with exultation the arrival 
 of such an illustrious Chief Governor. All public amusements 
 were patronised in such a manner as not only to gratify the 
 public, but the parties volunteering for public approbation ; 
 the most eminent theatrical performers and composers of that 
 time sought the Irish metropolis ; nor were painting, sculpture, 
 nor, more particularly, architecture, neglected, as ample en- 
 couragement was given to the professors of eminence in the 
 different branches of the Fine Arts. In consequence, several 
 eminent artists were induced to settle in Dublin. During the 
 many years I have resided in Ireland, the Duke of Rutland 
 was the only Chief Governor who could find leisure to pay the 
 least attention to the Fine Arts. In England, His Grace had 
 employed and encouraged several of the most eminent painters 
 of his time. Shortly after his arrival in Dublin, he ordered all 
 the old pictures which were in the Lodge in the Phoenix Park 
 to be taken down, and supplied their places with part of his 
 collection of modern painters." 
 
 Meanwhile, the lovely duchess, and the gay crowd following 
 in her train, lent animation and picturesqueness to the scene. 
 She, to whom men thought that Burke's description of Marie 
 Antoinette might well be applied, "glittering like the morn- 
 ing star, full of life, splendour, and joy," was the centre of 
 attraction wherever she appeared. Her favourite drive was 
 the North Circular Road, and a brilliant scene that country 
 avenue presented during the season when Her Grace's phaeton, 
 drawn by six ponies conducted by youthful postilions, and pre-
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 461 
 
 ceded by outriders in splendid liveries, might be expected to 
 issue from the Park. Sunday was the great day for the drive. 
 Lord Cloncurry tells us, in his Personal Recollections, that it was 
 the custom on that day for all the great folk to rendezvous in 
 the afternoon upon the North Circular Road, and that he 
 frequently saw three or four coaches-and-six, and eight or ten 
 coaches-and-four, passing slowly to and fro, in a long procession 
 of other carriages, and between a double column of well- 
 mounted horsemen. "Of course, the populace," he adds, 
 " were there, too, and saluted with friendly greetings, always 
 kindly and cordially acknowledged, the lords and gentlemen 
 of the country party, who were neither few in number nor 
 insignificant in station." His lordship further notes that the 
 evenings of those Sundays were commonly passed by the same 
 parties in promenading at the Rotunda. "1 have frequently seen 
 there," he says, " of a Sunday evening, a third of the members 
 of the two Houses of Parliament." 
 
 But the elegant equipage and the charming duchess were to 
 be seen occasionally in quarters not so fashionable as the 
 North Circular Road. In some way or another it had reached 
 Her Grace's ears that there was actually in Dublin a hand- 
 somer woman than herself; and one day she drove to Francis 
 Street, an important trading centre in those days, and, alighting 
 from her carriage, entered the shop of a woollen draper named 
 Dillon, whose wife it was that had the reputation of surpassing 
 even the Duchess of Rutland in beauty. On asking for Mrs. 
 Dillon, Her Grace was ushered into the parlour, and received 
 with perfect ease by the object of her curiosity : a tall, magni- 
 ficently-formed woman, all sweetness and dignity. It was the 
 duchess who was embarrassed in the rencontre. Soon recover- 
 ing herself, however, she took Mrs. Dillon's hand, and frankly 
 told her the object of her visit. She had been under the 
 impression, she said, that she was herself the handsomest 
 woman in Ireland, until someone told her that in face and 
 figure Mrs. Dillon far surpassed her. Now she knew how true 
 this was. "You are, indeed," she exclaimed, "the most 
 beautiful woman in the three kingdoms ! " 1 
 
 1 The " Emigrant Milesian " gives this little scene in full detail. Much 
 more, too, he has to say of the brilliant duchess and many a piquant trait 
 he gives of the duke. Between forty and fifty years afterwards he saw Her 
 Grace in Hyde Park, "bearing still a remnant of her former beauty,"
 
 462 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 Contemporary newspapers and memoirs treating of the period 
 give us glimpses of " His Grace, the Lord-Lieutenant and our 
 vice-queen," on the occasion of visits made in the provinces. 
 They were in Limerick in October 1785, and at an assembly 
 in that city the duchess danced with Mr. Beresford, son of 
 the Bishop of Ossory. During the same season they visited 
 Cork, and graced a similar entertainment. On that occasion 
 the duchess was attired in light pink silk, with diamond 
 stomacher and sleeve knots, and had on a large brown hat 
 trimmed with red ribbon, and decorated with a great quantity 
 of jewels. In this costume she opened the ball with the 
 Honourable Richard Hely Hutchinson. His Excellency ap- 
 peared in fawn-coloured waistcoat and breeches, and a green 
 coat, trimmed with gold, and wore the insignia of the Order of 
 St. Patrick. 
 
 Next year the duke and duchess joined a Christmas party at 
 Dangan Castle, and were the guests of Colonel and Mrs. St. 
 George, to whom, on their marriage two months before, Lord 
 Mornington lent his noble residence in Meath. In the vice- 
 roy's suite came Lord Westmeath, Lord Fitzgibbon, General 
 Pitt, General Conyngham, " some of the prettiest women and 
 a group of the gayest young men." The bride, then but a 
 short way in her nineteenth year, thought herself in Elysium 
 for half the first week, but soon grew weary of the ceaseless 
 round of dissipation. Night was turned into day, "for no 
 obvious reason, as all hours in the twenty-four were equally 
 free from interruption " ; the conversation of some of the ladies 
 was not very edifying ; and it was tiresome work " playing com- 
 merce with a party of women, impatient for the hour of eleven, 
 which usually brought the men," said the fair hostess, " in a 
 state very unfit for the conversation or even the presence of 
 our sex." l 
 
 There was no exaggeration, he says, in the compliment paid to Mrs. 
 Dillon by her noble visitor. He saw her in her country house, at a place 
 called Roper's Rest, and never forgot the admiration her appearance 
 created in him. It appears that Mrs. Dillon was as much distinguished by 
 modesty, grace, and charity as she was by her singular beauty. Mr. 
 Dillon was connected by birth with the family of Viscount Dillon. But, 
 like nearly all the well-to-do Catholics of his time, he was glad to be 
 allowed to live unmolested, and work in obscurity. The woollen trade, 
 however, in all its branches, took precedence of every other trade in Ire- 
 land, and ranked next to the learned professions. 
 1 The Remains of the late Mrs. Richard Trench. The marriage, which
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 463 
 
 Towards the close of 1787 the duke visited the north of 
 Ireland. He was magnificently received by the Marquis of 
 Downshire, the Earl of Moira, and other noblemen and gentle- 
 men, and superbly entertained by the town of Belfast This, 
 however, was the last of the viceregal progresses. An illness, 
 " the consequence of too much conviviality," attacked the duke 
 on the road, turned to putrid fever on his return to the capital, 
 and speedily closed his days. One more pageant, grand but 
 melancholy, and the Rutland reign was over. On the 27th of 
 November, the minute guns in the Phoenix Park commenced 
 firing at six o'clock in the morning, and the bells of the 
 churches rang their dead peals during the day. The duke's 
 remains, which had lain in state in an anteroom of the House 
 of Lords, were borne in a long procession through the streets 
 to the platform on the North Wall, where the barge waited 
 with the king's boat to receive the body, and convey it to His 
 Majesty's yacht. Nothing so imposing in its way had ever 
 been seen in Ireland. Eight horses drew the mourning chariot, 
 which was preceded by the town major, attended by a troop of 
 horse. A train of Irish artillery, and, in fact, the whole army 
 establishment, formed part of the procession. Standards of the 
 Order of the Garter and of the Order of St. Patrick were borne 
 on lances. The rectors and vicars of the city, the Lord Mayor, 
 the Lords Justices, the Governors of the Bank, the nobility 
 all took their place in the sad cortege. 1 
 
 Thus was brought to a sudden termination the short but 
 brilliant viceroyalty of Charles Manners, Duke of Rutland. 
 The Marquis of Buckingham succeeded as Chief Governor. 
 Society, sobered for a moment by the 'untimely death of its 
 leader, speedily resumed its air of careless gaiety, pursued 
 unchecked its round of dissipation, and contrived to ignore, 
 
 began with a honeymoon at Dangan, was happy, but of very short dura- 
 tion. Mrs. St. George was a widow at twenty-two years of age. After 
 some years she married Mr. Richard Trench. Their distinguished son, 
 Archbishop Trench, published, when Dean of Westminster, selections 
 from his mother's Journals, Letters, and other papers. The book por- 
 trays, incidentally, a very charming character, is full of interesting sketches 
 of Irish, English, and continental society, and gives many a portrait in 
 words of personages remarkable in their day, and in some cases famous 
 still. 
 
 1 Such is the account given in the Annual Register, 1787. A detailed 
 description of the funeral procession may be found in Walker's Hibernian 
 Magazine of the same date.
 
 464 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 conveniently, the signs of the times forecasting the Insurrection 
 of 1798 and the Union of 1801. Thanks to the charity that 
 covereth a multitude of sins, the hospital treasury was liberally 
 replenished. Fortunately, also, its affairs were prudently ad- 
 ministered, and its troop of friends constantly recruited from 
 the ranks of the powerful and energetic. Year after year 
 fashion maintained its headquarters in the neighbourhood of 
 which the hospital, with its annexes, formed the veritable 
 centre. 1 
 
 Among those who had residences in Rutland Square during 
 the twenty years preceding the Union, may be mentioned the 
 Earls of Charlemont, Bective, Grandison, Farnham, Carhamp- 
 ton, Erne, Enniskillen, Darnley, Wandesford, Ormonde, and 
 the Countess of Longford ; Viscount Wicklow, Viscount Cale- 
 don, and Lord Templeton ; the Bishop of Limerick, the Bishop 
 of Kilmore, and the Bishop of Leighlin and Ferns ; to say 
 nothing of a host of Right Honourables, Honourables, and 
 Members of the House of Commons. 
 
 In Sackville Street might be found at home the Earls of 
 Westmeath, Drogheda, Glandore, and Altemont ; Viscounts 
 Bangor, Netterville, Gosford, Pery, Belmore, and Southwell ; 
 Lord Leitrim and Lord Sunderlin ; and fifteen Members, at 
 least, of the House of Commons. 
 
 Gardiner's Row included the town residences of the Earls 
 of Carrick, Ross, Aldborough, and Arran ; and the domicile of 
 Lord Norbury. 
 
 In Great Denmark Street dwelt the Earl of Belvidere, 
 the Earl of Fingal, Viscount Charleville, and Lord Tulla- 
 more. 
 
 Viscount Kenmare and Viscount Dunlo ; Lords Kil- 
 connel, Ougley, and Lismore lived in North Great George's 
 Street. 
 
 The Marquis of Waterford and the Earl of Annesley occu- 
 pied mansions in Marlborough Street. 
 
 Morning, noon, and night this aristocratic population kept 
 circulating, as the French would say, within and without the 
 Rotunda, the new buildings, and the favourite gardens. Sub- 
 scribers had access to the gardens at all times, and thither 
 
 1 Referring to this subject, a contemporary publication says : " The Lying- 
 in Hospital is the principal ornament of the north-western quarter of the 
 city, and is the vortex of all the fashion of that part of the town."
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 465 
 
 resorted the dames of high estate to take their exercise in the 
 morning and early afternoon, while the lords and gentlemen 
 played at bowls in the lower part of the grounds. Assemblies, 
 masquerades, concerts, and promenades attracted the gay 
 throng on week-day evenings. On Sundays they came in the 
 forenoon to attend divine service, and occupy the seats they 
 rented in the beautifully decorated chapel ; and at a later hour 
 they made their appearance, as we have said, in the brilliant 
 promenade. 
 
 The average receipts from the Gardens, the Rotunda, and 
 the Public Assembly Rooms, from 1789 to 1796, amounted to 
 ^4000 per annum. 
 
 Certainly it was a strange vocation for an hospital, this office 
 of catering for the amusement of its circumjacent population 
 of aristocrats. As already observed, the nobility and gentry 
 objected not at all to the presence of a charitable institution 
 in the heart of the locality sacred to rank and fashion. But 
 how strange it must have seemed to the patients, that an hospital 
 should be kept up in the midst of such surroundings. What 
 with the rolling of coach-wheels far into the night, the shouting 
 of the chairmen, and the cries of the link-boys ; what with the 
 flashing of carriage-lamps, and the flaring of flambeaux, the 
 accustomed silence and the natural darkness of the midnight 
 hour must have been completely chased away. 
 
 Gaily thus the years sped on, until, one day, the joyous 
 movement ceased, and the brilliant spectacle vanished like a 
 scene of a panorama. During 1 798, and the following troubled 
 years, the Rotunda and Assembly Rooms were turned into a 
 barrack ; and the door-posts of the houses bore the unmistak- 
 able signs of a state of siege, namely, a list of the persons (good 
 and faithful subjects, be it understood) dwelling in each man- 
 sion. The district which shortly before had been the vortex 
 of fashionable life, looked like nothing so much as a section 
 of Paris during the Reign of Terror. 
 
 Then followed the Union, making the desolation permanent. 
 When Ireland lost her legislative independence, Dublin lost 
 the titled and territorial magnates who had made the city a 
 brilliant capital. The hospital was well-nigh ruined by the 
 change, which deprived the institution of the liberal aid of the 
 Irish House of Commons, the patronage of a resident and 
 charitable aristocracy, and the income derived from the letting 
 
 30
 
 466 AROUND AND ABOUT THE ROTUNDA 
 
 of the Rotunda and its adjuncts as long as there remained a 
 wealthy and a pleasure-loving population to seek amusement 
 within the area set apart for music and dancing, play and 
 promenade. 
 
 Later, the Rotunda assumed a new and far from unimportant 
 office, and was the scene of many a memorable meeting and 
 many a stormy debate. But into its subsequent history we 
 shall not enter in these pages.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 I. 
 
 FOUR or five years ago, having occasion to open a history of 
 Florence in search of some information relating to the trade 
 guilds of that famous seat of liberty and commerce, I came 
 upon an interesting account of the style of living prevalent 
 among the citizens of Firenze la Bella in the fourteenth 
 century of our era. Their dress, their dwellings, their enter- 
 tainments were minutely described ; and the prices of sundry 
 articles of daily consumption and various materials for clothing 
 and house furnishing were likewise quoted. Among entries 
 of manufactured goods imported by the merchants of the 
 republic, my eye caught the words, "white Irish serge, five 
 and fivepence farthing per ell." 
 
 Can it be possible, thought I, that any product of Irish 
 industry found for itself a demand in the luxurious Italy of five 
 hundred years ago ? 
 
 Forthwith, I looked through all the books I could lay my 
 hand on which seemed likely to furnish information concern- 
 ing the manufacture and export of Irish serge in days gone by. 
 Not finding what I sought in my calf-bound authorities that 
 talk in type, I addressed myself to a walking encyclopaedia of 
 my acquaintance, a gentleman of prodigious memory, whose 
 knowledge of Irish affairs historical, antiquarian, political, 
 and domestic seems altogether inexhaustible, and whose 
 reservoir of archaic lore overflows in a torrent of living speech 
 in answer to a'ny demand made by an intelligent querist, be he 
 adversary or ally. In a marvellously short time I obtained all 
 
 467
 
 468 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 the information I could have hoped for anent the woollen 
 exports of mediaeval Ireland, and furthermore became enriched 
 with a miscellany of viva voce notes on Irish trade in general, 
 and the Italian poets of the age of Dante in particular ; the 
 illustrious Earl of Charlemont, and the flocks and herds of 
 ancient Erin; the patriots of '82, and the historians who love 
 and make a lie ; the mistakes and misdeeds of which this 
 country has been the victim from A.D. 1169 even to the hour 
 when the query about Irish serge was propounded by the 
 present writer. 
 
 However, the ascertained points most germane to the 
 matter are the following, namely, that Fazio degli Uberti, a 
 celebrated Italian poet, who towards the middle of the four- 
 teenth century wrote a description, in terza rima, of the 
 countries he explored in the course of his travels through the 
 world, relates, in his poem entitled Ditta Mundi, how, having 
 seen England, he passed into Ireland a country worthy of 
 renmvn, as he says, for the beautiful serges she sends us ; that, 
 in the Dizionario del/a Critsca, under the heading of "Saia" 
 (serge), an example is given of the use of the term "saia 
 d'Irlanda" from an old ledger, in which is charged "a piece 
 of Irish serge to make a dress for Andrea's wife"; and that 
 the patriotic Lord Charlemont having, during his lengthened 
 sojourn in Italy, come across a copy of Fazio's extremely rare 
 work, transcribed the interesting passage above alluded to, 
 and subsequently brought it under the notice of the recently 
 founded Royal Irish Academy, as a remarkable evidence of 
 the extent of Irish commerce and the success of Irish manu- 
 factures at a remote period of our history. 
 
 From that day forward, whenever, in the course of desultory 
 rambles over the highways and byways of Irish history, I came 
 on any reference to Irish wool or Irish cloth, forthwith I 
 made a note thereon, without any more definite purpose, how- 
 ever, than to store up, against some possible eventuality in the 
 future, facts which, if not seized on the moment, might elude 
 research in the hour of need. 
 
 Only the other day, when inquiring for a certain statistical 
 treatise in a library stocked with works on arts and manufac- 
 tures, I learnt by chance that a reader presumably a gentle- 
 man of the press had just been asking whether -some book 
 on the Irish woollen trade could not there and then be laid
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 469 
 
 before him, but had received for answer that no such work 
 was procurable, although the collection numbered several 
 volumes on the cognate subject of the linen trade. I could 
 not but think that, although no special work on Irish woollens 
 might be named by the aid of which an article could be got 
 up in hot haste for a morning paper, there nevertheless exists, 
 both in public and private libraries, ample material for an 
 essay on that highly important subject, if one had only time 
 and patience to run through histories, pamphlets, statute 
 books, travels, and memoirs, set in order the gathered notes, 
 and reduce the mass of information to a readable form. 
 
 The Irish wool trade has a history far from deficient in 
 variety and incident. It was dealt with, in a fair spirit 
 generally, by English legislation from an early period of the 
 Anglo-Norman occupancy to the reign of William and Mary. 
 But from 1699 to 1779, it was proscribed by statutes as 
 inimical to social happiness and public morals, as was the 
 penal code directed against the religion of the majority of the 
 population. Possibly the laws that annihilated the wool trade 
 wrought more destruction than the legislation that aimed at 
 stamping out the Catholic faith ; for the Trade Acts snatched 
 bread from the mouth, filched hope from the heart, and 
 wrenched power from the hands of the industrial sections of 
 the community. 
 
 But though the trade was sentenced to destruction, the 
 spirit evoked by the deed was not set at rest for generations. 
 Irish wool assumed an importance seldom enjoyed by a 
 staple of manufacture. First, it was a party cry, fierce and 
 minatory, and then it swelled to a national outcry, which 
 artillery could not silence. English Parliaments were con- 
 vulsed by it, and Irish Parliaments were disgraced or immor- 
 talised according as they sacrificed or set free the wool. The 
 question wove itself into the checkered web, one hundred 
 years long, of Irish history. This it was that rallied the volun- 
 teers. The air they marched to had words set to it with a 
 refrain ringing of the wool ; and Napper Tandy acted under 
 the same inspiration when he suspended from the necks of the 
 volunteer guns labels inscribed with the words, Free Trade or 
 Speedy Revolution ! If not dyed red as scarlet on ensanguined 
 fields, the wool had at anyrate a tinge of romance imparted to 
 it by the adventures connected with its contraband transport
 
 470 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 to foreign countries, and its association with the flight of the 
 Wild Geese and the escape of hunted priests under favour of 
 the smuggler's sail. Popular songs kept alive the pathos and 
 the pain of the story. In winter evenings beside the hearth, 
 and on summer nights beneath the moon, the peasants sang, 
 to strains of native music, wild and plaintive, the lament of 
 the hapless maiden ruthlessly robbed of the Suisin Bnidhe, 
 the " Yellow Blanket,'' which cloaked in allegory the legend 
 of the ruined trade. 1 Literature, too, had a thread of wool 
 run through its pages. An essay of inconsiderable length, but 
 a masterpiece of the English tongue, thrown off in obedience 
 to a generous impulse to retrieve the fortunes of the injured 
 wool, received the distinction of being branded by a grand 
 jury as a scandalous, seditious, and factious pamphlet. A 
 small volume, dictated in a singularly calm and reasonable 
 spirit, as would be thought in our days, but discoursing plainly 
 of the wool, earned a yet severer penalty, and was publicly 
 burned by the hands of the common hangman. And these 
 pieces of " dangerous " and ill-treated literature were not the 
 production of men undistinguished by their character, capacity, 
 and position, but were the work respectively of Jonathan 
 Swift, Dean of St. Patrick's, and William Molyneux, member 
 for the University of Dublin. 
 
 It is not my intention, I need hardly observe, to endeavour 
 to write an exhaustive paper on Irish wool and woollens, 
 though I fancy I can discern the lines on which such an 
 essay might run, and very much wish that someone would do 
 the industrial cause so good a service. But as, at this moment, 
 the subject of home products and manufactures occupies a 
 good deal of attention, the wool as usual coming to the front, 
 I think it just possible that Irishmen at such a juncture may 
 not be unwilling to refresh their memory of past readings, and 
 to lend me their attention while I run through some rough 
 notes, and open at marked passages a score or so of volumes 
 lying conveniently at hand. 
 
 1 The air of Suisin Bnidhe will be found in the valuable and enlarged 
 edition of Bunting's Ancient Music of Ireland, published in 1840. " Very 
 old ; author and date unknown," is the note given in the margin by the 
 compiler of the work. There are persons still living who remember in 
 their childhood hearing the country people singing, with extraordinary 
 feeling, the lament set to this sweet strain,
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 471 
 
 II. 
 
 IN the day when Lord Charlemont wrote his paper on the 
 antiquity of the woollen manufacture in Ireland, 1 it was 
 thought a great deal to cite, in support of the thesis, records 
 of the date of Edward in., bearing evidence to the high 
 repute, at home and abroad, of Irish friezes, serges, and stuffs 
 in that monarch's reign. Further inquiry led to the conclu- 
 sion that woollen garments were in use among the natives 
 many centuries before the English landed on these shores. 
 Not, however, until our own day were proofs positive forth- 
 coming of old Erin's possession of a home manufacture of 
 cloths of great value and beauty, as well as of fabrics of 
 coarser style. Within the last forty years the labours of our 
 antiquaries, the publications of our archaslogical societies, and, 
 above all, the deciphering of the ancient laws of Ireland, have 
 revealed, as existing in the past, a state of things hitherto 
 unimagined, and thrown a strong light on the social and 
 domestic life of the primitive, but by no means barbarous, 
 inhabitants of the land of the Gael. 
 
 References to the teasing, carding, combing, and other 
 processes by which the wool was prepared, and to the spin- 
 ning, weaving, napping, and dyeing of the cloth, occur in the 
 Brehon Laws. The woollen manufacture in all its branches 
 was carried on by the women of the tribes ; and these laws lay 
 clown very precisely the divisions of the raw material, and of 
 the cloth in different stages of its manufacture, which a woman 
 should be entitled to take with her in case of separation from 
 her husband, the proportions being adjusted evidently by an 
 estimate of the amount of labour expended by the wife on the 
 wool or on the fabric. Equally with the fleeces, the dye stuffs 
 were of home growth, and great attention was devoted to the 
 procuring of pure and beautiful colours, in a variety of shades. 
 A fine blue was much admired, green was a favourite colour, 
 and a plant, now unknown, was grown in ridges for dyeing 
 cloth a " splendid crimson red." Party-coloured, striped, and 
 spotted cloths were also esteemed. Industry and art enabled 
 the spinning and weaving women not only to keep up the 
 Stock of material required for the ordinary clothing of the 
 1 Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy (1787).
 
 472 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 tribe, but also to provide the splendid mantles in which the 
 kings and chiefs figure so conspicuously in song and story. 
 These mantles were considered princely presents, when offered 
 by one great man to another; and the provincial kings, valuing 
 them as so much treasure, took them in form of tribute from 
 their subordinate chiefs. In fact, as an article of revenue, 
 manufactured cloth appears to have ranked next to live stock. 
 In the Book of Rights, wherein "the revenues of the principali- 
 ties and the laws of the rights of the provincial kingdoms, and 
 of the tributes and rents given to them and by them," are 
 precisely stated, we find cloth and cattle set down together. 
 Thus, the King of Cashel is entitled to receive from one of his 
 tributaries 1000 cloaks and 1000 milch cows; while from 
 others, together with hogs or cattle, he exacts cloaks with white 
 borders, or napped cloaks trimmed with purple, or mantles all 
 variegated. Connaught is not behindhand in the quantity 
 and quality of the cloth produced by her petty states. One 
 tributary is taxed to the amount of thrice fifty superb cloaks, 
 and others must find royal cloaks, or cloaks of strength, or 
 speckled cloaks, or purple cloaks of fine brilliance. Dye stuffs 
 were likewise taken in tribute. Ancient legends, poems, and 
 lives of saints, also abound in references to the manufacture 
 and use of woollen garments in Ireland, and to the importance 
 assigned to the princely mantle. For example, in the Tain Bo 
 Chitaighne, an epic poem of considerable antiquity, a descrip- 
 tion occurs of the personal appearance and dress of the Ulster 
 chiefs as they arrive, with their hosts, at the camp of Connor. 
 A comely champion, with deep red-yellow bushy hair, and 
 sparkling blue laughing eyes, appears on the scene with a red 
 and white cloak fluttering around him, fastened at the breast 
 with a golden brooch; while another warrior, dark-visaged .and 
 black-haired, proudly advances, leading on his company, ar\d 
 wearing a red shagg cloak with a silver fastening. A white- 
 hooded cloak, with a flashing red border, and many other 
 varieties of the ample and splendid garment, are ajso described. 
 Other ancient MSS. are also rich in word-pictures of this kind. 
 The ladies' flowing mantles are, of course, not left out of the 
 tableau. For instance, the poet does not forget to record that 
 the heroine of a story appeared in all the splendour of " a 
 lustrous crimson cloak of dazzling sheen." l 
 1 O'Curry, Lectures on the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Jrish,
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 473 
 
 For centuries succeeding the heroic period, Irish kings and 
 warriors continued to display in Court and camp these much- 
 prized mantles. Sometimes, too, the splendid garments 
 strewed the field when their owners lost a battle. Thus it is 
 recorded, that among the spoils left by the sons of Brian Roe, 
 when they fled from Mortogh, in 1313, were "shining scarlet 
 cloaks." Military mantles, of a style better suited to a rough 
 campaign, were adopted on occasions by soldiers equipped for 
 hard service. Mr. Halliday, in a posthumous work, 1 notes, from 
 the Annals of Ireland, that in A.D. 938 a chosen army of xoco 
 men marched from Aileach, prepared for a winter campaign by 
 sheep-shin mantles provided for them by Muirchedach, who 
 thus gained the name of Muirchedach of the Leather Mantles. 
 
 While the upper ranks in Ireland prided themselves, 
 throughout the Middle Ages, on the fine texture, rare fringes, 
 costly trimmings, and elegant clasps of their mantles, and, 
 moreover, indulged in a profusion of linen, the humbler classes 
 of the population were habited in a garb almost entirely com- 
 posed of woollen material, heavy or light in substance accord- 
 ing to necessity. A thin stuff answered for shirting or vest; a 
 thicker composed the tunic and the trouse or trowsers ; and of 
 a heavy rug or frieze was fashioned the cloak, which was as 
 indispensable an article of attire to the peasant as to the chief. 
 The women had longer mantles than the men, and wore them 
 over a kirtle or gown which reached to the ankle. 2 A short 
 cloak or cape, having a conical hood terminating in a tassel, 
 was much worn by the men, and went by the name of Cochal, 
 hence the English cowl, almost universally used for a hooded 
 cloak or cape. " In the eighth century," observes Dr. W. K. 
 Sullivan in his introductory volume to O'Curry's Manners and 
 Customs of the Ancient Irish, " the Cochal, in the latinised form 
 of Coceula, was considered, in Wales and other countries, as a 
 characteristic of Irish dress ; and the coarse long-napped woollen 
 qloth of which it was made continued to be an important 
 export pf Ireland up to .at least the middle of the fourteenth 
 
 C I 873).; Manuscript Materials of Ancient Irish History, by the same 
 author (1861); The Book of Rights., -edited -by Dr. O'Donovan, and 
 published by the Celtic Society (1847). 
 
 1 The Scandinavian Kingdom of Dublin. Edited, with some notice of 
 the author's life, by J. P. Prendergast (1882). 
 
 - J. C. Walker, Historical Essay on the Dress, Armour, and Weapons of 
 the Irish
 
 474 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 century." The learned author adds, that the hooded cloak, 
 until lately so common in this country, and still much worn by 
 women in the South and West of Ireland, may be regarded as 
 a modified descendant of the ancient Cochal, and that the 
 frieze still corresponds to the description of the ancient 
 material. 
 
 Not very long after the Anglo-Norman adventurers had made 
 good their footing in the island, the governors of the pale be- 
 came alarmed at discovering in the new settlers a dangerous 
 tendency to adopt the Irish style of dress. So objectionable 
 did this fancy to appear in habit like the Irish seem to the 
 maintainers of English rule, that active measures were taken to 
 retain liege subjects in their proper apparel, and induce the 
 native chiefs to favour foreign fashions. John, King of 
 England and Lord of Ireland, who had had fair opportunities 
 of becoming acquainted with the state of affairs in the latter 
 kingdom, adopted means, which it must be acknowledged were 
 not unprincely, of giving a desirable turn to the fashion of the 
 day in clothes. Soon after he ascended the throne of his 
 father, he addressed an order, as we read, to the Archbishop 
 of Dublin, directing him to buy such a quantity of scarlets as 
 he should judge sufficient to make robes (after the English 
 mode it is conjectured) to be presented to the Kings of 
 Ireland, and others of the kings' liegemen, natives of the 
 kingdom. 
 
 Whether these personages wore with a good grace the 
 " scarlets," cut after the pattern that seemed good to King 
 John, history does not record ; but there is abundant evidence 
 to show that they transmitted no taste for novelty to their 
 descendants, who stoutly adhered to ancestral and suspicious 
 modes. " The barbaric splendour and quaintness of the Irish 
 chiefs seems to have caught the fancy of the English settlers in 
 the reign of Edward in., as we find the use of the Irish dress 
 prohibited to them in the celebrated Statute of Kilkenny, 
 passed during the administration of Edward's son, the Duke 
 of Clarence. One clause in this Act ordains that the English in 
 Ireland shall conform in garb and in the cut of their hair to the 
 fashion of their countrymen in England : whosoever affected 
 that of the Irish should be treated as an Irishman, which obyi-, 
 Qusly meant ill-treated." * 
 
 1 Planche, Cydofadia of Costume^
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 475 
 
 This war of the Plantagenets was made not on Irish manu- 
 factures, be it noted, but on Irish tailoring. The red and white 
 cloths of the country were on sale in England in the thirteenth 
 century, and pieces of this description are enumerated as com- 
 prised in the effects of King John himself. 1 Amongst the 
 different articles of dress stolen at Winchester by Walter Blowe- 
 berme and Hamon le Stare, and which afterwards occasioned 
 the celebrated duel between those gentlemen about the close of 
 this reign, was a tunic of Irish cloth. 2 Edward in., who did 
 more to encourage trade in England than any of his pre- 
 decessors on the throne, and who made Ireland an equal 
 participator in the advantages offered by his protection, showed 
 particular favour to Irish frieze ; for a statute passed in the 
 twenty-eighth year of his reign exempts it from duty under 
 the description of Drops appellez frizeicare queux sout faitz en 
 Ireland. 
 
 However, even the Statute of Kilkenny, though renewed in 
 every Parliament till the year 1452, had little permanent effect 
 in reforming the manners of the liegemen of the pale, who 
 continued to find an irresistible attraction in the society of 
 their neighbours across the border; and while delighting in 
 the music, the sports, the story-telling by the hearth, and the 
 pleasant freedom of the Irishry, shaped their beards, and 
 arranged their hair, and cut their cloth after the fashion of the 
 native Gael. Wrapped in their Irish mantles, these degenerate 
 English refused to change their garments of predilection, or 
 conform in such matters to the wishes of any king of England 
 or any lord deputy of Ireland. An Act, passed in the reign of 
 Henry vi., asserts that now there is no diversity in array 
 betwixt the English marchours and the Irish enemies (Irreys 
 enemis to nostre seigneur le roy\ and proceeds to correct this 
 evil. 
 
 In the reign of Edward iv. another advance was made, and not 
 only the English of the pale, but the Irish dwelling in certain 
 counties, were commanded to go apparelled like Englishmen/ 3 
 
 1 Gilbert, Historical and Municipal Documents of Ireland (English 
 Rolls, A.D. 1172-1320). Preface. 
 
 - Quoted from Rymer ' s Fivdera by Lord Charlemont and others. 
 
 3 " In order to counteract the efforts made by the English Government to 
 destroy their ancient manners, the Irish exerted all their obstinacy to 
 preserve them. They showed violent aversion to the politeness and refined 
 manners of the Anglo-Normans j ' making no account,' says the historian.
 
 4/6 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 And still it seems to have been all in vain, for in the reign of 
 Henry vn. the very lords of Ireland were wont to attend 
 Parliament in the vesture of Irishmen. An Act was then 
 passed ordering these personages to appear in the same parlia- 
 ment robes as those of England, under the penalty of a 
 hundred shillings a round sum in those days to levy off a 
 lord. 
 
 Gahvay, a great commercial port, and a staunch English 
 town in the main, did, nevertheless, give cause for displeasure, 
 inasmuch as that the clothes of its inhabitants were not found 
 of a piece with their principles. In an ordinance " gyvyn at 
 our manor of Greenwych, the 28th day of April, in the 
 28th year of our reign," Henry vm. (the first English prince, 
 by the way, who assumed the style and title of King of 
 Ireland), among other directions for the government of the 
 town of Galway, enjoined, "that no man nor man-child do 
 wear no mantles in the streets, but cloaks or gowns, coats, 
 doublets, and hose shapen after the English fashion, but made 
 of the country cloth or any other it may please them to buy." l 
 
 Other sumptuary regulations of the same reign had a more 
 general application than the ordinance issued by the king to 
 his well-beloved lieges of Galway. In one of these Acts, it is 
 enjoined that no loyal woman should wear any kirtle or coat 
 tucked up or embroidered with silk, or laid with uske after the 
 Irish fashion ; and that none should wear mantle, coat, or hood, 
 of the said pattern. - 
 
 Waterford, also a prosperous and loyal town in those days, 
 does not appear, from anything that I know, to have given the 
 Government serious trouble on the subject of costume, although 
 the manufacture of woollen cloths flourished on the banks of 
 the Suir. Stanihurst, whose account of Ireland is published 
 in Hollinshed's Chronicles, speaking of the Waterford men, 
 says, "as they distill the best aqua vitic, so they spin the 
 
 Froissart, 'of any amusements and polite behaviour, nor wishing to 
 acquire any knowledge of good breeding, but to remain in their pristine 
 rudeness.' This rudeness was but seeming: for the Irish knew how to 
 live with foreigners, and to make themselves agreeable to them, especially 
 if they were enemies of the English." Augustin Thierry, History of the 
 Coiu/tust of England by the Norinans. Conclusion, sect. iv. 
 
 1 The king's ordinance is given in Hardiman's History of Galway. 
 
 - See reference to this Act in Dr. Sigerson's History of the Land Tenures 
 and Land Classes of Ireland, ch. vi.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 477 
 
 choicest rug in Ireland " ; and he gives a curious instance of 
 the value of this peculiar cloth in cold weather, and its close 
 resemblance to a bear-skin. " A friend of mine," says the 
 historian, " being of late demurant in London, and the weather 
 by reason of a hoare-frost being somewhat nipping, repaired to 
 Paris Garden clad in one of these Waterford rugs. The 
 mastiffs had no sooner espied him, but, deeming he had been a 
 beare, would fain have baited him ; and were it not that the 
 dogs were partly muzzled and partly chained, he doubted not 
 that he should have been well tug'd in this Irish rug, whereupon 
 he solemnly vowed never to see bear-baiting in any such weed." 1 
 
 This is not the last we hear of the Irish rug or the Irish 
 mantle. Spenser devotes some space to use a phrase not 
 known to the author of the Faerie Queen to a description of 
 the obnoxious garment; and Shakespeare alludes in a very 
 marked way to the rug and the kernes who wore it. In fact, 
 the advance of learning brought into action another engine for 
 attacking a style of dress disapproved of by the party that had 
 the press on its side. The mantle was stigmatised ; arguments 
 in favour of its suppression were advanced ; " the Iryshe men, 
 our naturall enemyes," had an objectionable way of concealing 
 things, weapons and the like, under their mantle, " fit cloak for 
 a thief"; they had a custom of wrapping the folds hastily 
 about the left arm when attacked, " which serves them instead 
 of a target " ;' 2 in a foray, they would draw the hood or the 
 cloak itself over their head, making it do service as a helmet : 
 hence the epithet "rug-headed " as applied to the Irish ; 3 nay 
 more, this barbarous head-gear was only a too effectual mask 
 when the worst villainy was in hand : " hooded men " meant 
 assassins. 
 
 The mantle was written down, in a word, and became more 
 
 1 Paris Garden, it will be remembered, was a place of public amusement 
 in London, where the citizens enjoyed the barbarous pastime of bear- 
 baiting. The passage from Stanihurst will be found in the work of 
 Planche already quoted. 
 
 3 In the Encyclopedia of Costume it is observed that this is a common 
 practice in Spain at the present day. \Vhen looking through Dore's Spain 
 lately, I was myself struck with the resemblance of the peasant's cloak, so 
 frequently pictured in the book, to the Irish mantle -heavy; ample, and 
 fringed as described in historians' and poets' views of Ireland. 
 
 3 " We must supplant those rough rug-headed kearns.-" Richard H, 
 act ii., scene i.
 
 478 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 than ever an object of peculiar abhorrence to the English. To 
 strip the chiefs of their handsome mantles, and the people of 
 their comfortable, water-tight, much-prized frieze cloaks, would 
 have been looked on as a good stroke of statesmanship, and 
 equal to a general disarmament of the common enemy. 
 
 But, though new means were adopted to bring the native 
 costume into discredit, the old were not relinquished. It is 
 amusing to read how Sir John Perrot, Queen Elizabeth's trusty 
 Lord Deputy, took a leaf out of King John's book, and, having 
 intimated that members habited in the Irish mantle and 
 trouse should not be allowed to attend the Parliament he con- 
 voked in 1586, he proceeded to use the gentler arts of persua- 
 sion, and " bestowed both gownes and cloakes of velvet and 
 satten " on some of the country gentlemen. " And yet," adds 
 the historian, " the Irish chiefs thought not themselves so 
 richly, or at least so contentedly, attired in their new costume 
 as in their mantles and other country habits." x 
 
 Strange, indeed, would it have been, under these circum- 
 stances, if the government of Her Majesty's successor, " the 
 Solomon of the age," did not devote some attention to the 
 study of this philosophy of clothes. Anyhow, the importance 
 of the question was not ignored. Reform was once more pro- 
 claimed throughout the length and breadth of the island. 
 "The circuits of the judges were not now confined within the 
 narrow limits of the pale, but extended through the whole 
 kingdom, and the Lord Deputy Chichester, in 1615, directed 
 that all sheriffs, justices of the peace, jurors, and other officers 
 of justice, and freeholders, should attend all Sessions and 
 Sitting Terms, wearing English attire and apparel, and that all 
 who appeared at them in mantles, or robes, or wearing glibbs, 
 should be punished by fine and imprisonment." 2 
 
 1 See an interesting note, in which this bit of history is given and a 
 description of the trouse appended, in Archdeacon O'Rorke's History of 
 BullysaJare, ch. iii. 
 
 - See, in Fitzgerald's History of tkt County and City of Limerick, vol. i., 
 a preliminary view of the progress of civilisation, in which a great deal of 
 Walker's information on Irish dress is confessedly embodied. The glibbes, 
 so often mentioned with opprobrium, meant the Irish mode of wearing the 
 hair in long locks hanging behind on the neck, and falling over the fore- 
 head in a manner resembling the "fringes" which ladies wear at the 
 present day. In Ware's Antiquities, those who are curious in the matter 
 will find a woodcut representing an Irishman with the long glibbes and 
 dependent moustache so fondly cherished by the natives.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 479 
 
 Stranger still would it have been, considering all the force 
 and sapience expended in the attempt to reduce the Irish to a 
 " conformitie, concordance, and familiaritie in language, tongue, 
 in manners, order, and apparel with them that be civil people" 
 if some persons in high office had not been able to persuade 
 themselves that good government had triumphed at last, and 
 the dawn of civilisation appeared. Accordingly, we find Sir 
 John Davis, of happy memory, rejoicing in the successful 
 carrying out of the late enactments. " These civil assemblies 
 at Assizes and Sessions," writes His Majesty's Attorney-General 
 of Ireland, "have reclaymed the Irish from their wildness, 
 caused them to cut off their glibs and long haire ; to convert 
 their mantles into cloaks ; to conform themselves to the 
 manner of England in all their behaviour and outward forms." 
 Furthermore, Sir John was led on to " conceive an hope that 
 the next generation will, in tongue, and heart, and every way 
 else, become English ; so as there will be no difference or 
 distinction, but the Irish Sea betwixt us." * 
 
 This interesting example of official complacency, and the art 
 of prophesying to us pleasant things, would furnish a choice 
 heading to a chapter of the history of Ireland in the seven- 
 teenth century. Meanwhile, the women of Ireland continued 
 spinning and weaving and dyeing the wool, and cutting the 
 clothes of the nation according to the pattern handed down by 
 their ancestors ; 2 the men, and men-children, went on display- 
 ing, on every convenient occasion, a very decided and most 
 " uncivil " preference for Irish versus English behaviour and 
 costume ; and the Fates, deaf to the thunders of royal ordi- 
 nances, and the sweet persuasion of Elizabethan English, 
 never ceased weaving the thread of Ireland's destiny into a 
 fabric of quite another hue and texture from that contemplated 
 in the prevision of the inspired law officer of " the wisest fool 
 in Christendom." 
 
 i " A Discoverie of the State of Ireland " (1613). 
 
 - Sir William Petty, Surveyor-General of the kingdom of Ireland, speak- 
 ing of the dress of the Irish peasantry in his day, says : "Their clothing is 
 far better than that of the French peasants, or the poor of most other 
 countries ; which advantage they have from their wool, whereof twelve 
 sheep furnish a competency to one of these families. Which wool, and the 
 cloth made of it, doth cost these poor people no less than .50,000 ^>- aim. 
 for the dyeing it, a trade exercised by the women of the country. "-.-Tfo 
 Political Anatomy of Ireland (1 67 2).
 
 480 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 III. 
 
 RETURNING to the point whence we took our departure, and 
 diverging into another path, let us note what indications of a 
 foreign trade in Irish wool, raw or manufactured, may chance 
 to turn up. That Ireland, long before the Christian era, was 
 the resort of the great trading communities of the then known 
 world ; that at the epoch of her conversion she had the advan- 
 tage of well-established commercial relations with the neighbour- 
 ing islands and the adjacent Continent ; and that for succeeding 
 centuries she maintained a profitable communication with 
 Britain, Gaul, and Spain, are matters of history, and form the 
 subject of interesting pages in Moore's History of Ireland, and 
 in the work of Dr. W. K. Sullivan, which I referred to in the 
 first part of this article. 
 
 No trace, however, of an export of cloth in those remote 
 days have I come on; nor is there any evidence, as far as I 
 know, that at a later period the Danes, whether in their plunder- 
 ing expeditions through the island or their trading settlements 
 on the seaboard, made any store of the woolfels or the manu- 
 factured cloths of Ireland. 
 
 Authorities state, as an established fact, that Irish woollens 
 were well known and highly valued long before England 
 developed her cloth manufacture and acquired a foreign trade 
 in that commodity. This, of course, supposes an export of the 
 Irish product, at a time, too, when Italy and Flanders were at the 
 head of the manufacturing industries of which wool is the staple. 
 Certain it is that in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries 
 Ireland was much resorted to by trading companies from 
 countries largely engaged in the wool trade. On the Dublin 
 Guild merchant-rolls of that period we find registered representa- 
 tives of almost every craft or trade from France, Brabant, 
 and Flanders. 1 Flemish merchants, trading to Waterford, 
 Youghal, and Cork, have left their mark in the records of the 
 time. 2 Florentine and other Italian merchants and money- 
 dealers carried on their operations in Dublin and the provincial 
 towns. The Richafdi of Lucca had agents at Ross, Kilkenny, 
 
 .^Historical and 'Municipal Documeiits of Ireland (English Rolls, A. b. 
 1172-1320). Edited by J. 1T. Gilbert. Preface. - 
 2 Macpherson, Annals of Commerce (1805).
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 48! 
 
 Limerick, Waterford, Youghal, and Cork. A petition in 
 French from these merchants, praying the viceroy to inquire 
 into certain losses they had sustained in Ireland, and a writ by 
 which Edward i. directs his representatives to inquire into the 
 allegations put forward in the complaint of his beloved mer- 
 chants of the company of the Richardi, may be seen in the 
 second volume of Facsimiles of National Manuscripts of 
 Ireland. Mr. Gilbert, the editor of this splendid work, gives 
 the facts relating to the trading transactions of the English 
 mercantile houses in the letterpress accompanying the docu- 
 ments reproduced. 
 
 In those days, as from time immemorial, the great traffic of 
 the country was carried on at fairs. Among the commodities 
 bartered at these trading centres, cloths of various kinds are 
 mentioned. There is even evidence to show that the Irish 
 mantle caught the fancy of continental visitors, and was con- 
 sidered worthy of being transported across the Alps in days 
 when luxury in dress was carried to excess in Italy ; for it is on 
 record that the pope's agent in England obtained a licence in 
 1382 for exporting certain articles custom-free, and that among 
 these articles were five mantles of Irish cloth, one of them 
 lined with green, and a russet garment lined with Irish cloth. 
 
 Such being the state of things, it is not so very surprising 
 that Irish serges made their way to Florence. But that the 
 high dames of the republic held the foreign fabric in estima- 
 tion, and that the author of Ditta Mundi considered it worth 
 his while to visit the remote island which produced so admired 
 a material, are striking proofs of the excellence of the manu- 
 facture. " If in the middle of the fourteenth century," to quote 
 Lord Charlemont, "the serges of Ireland were eagerly sought 
 after and worn with a preference by the polished Italians, and 
 particularly by the Florentines, it must have been for the 
 excellence of their quality, for Machiavelli, in his History of 
 Florence, says (1830) that the woollen manufacture had long 
 been established at Florence. That year the corporation of 
 woollen weavers was the greatest and most powerful in Florence, 
 containing in it, and presiding over, many ancillary trades, 
 such as carders, dyers, etc." The workshops of the wool trade 
 in Florence, we learn from other authorities, amounted to 
 200, and there were besides 20 warehouses of the Calimala or 
 trade in the transalpine fabrics, which imported more than
 
 482 
 
 io,ooo pieces. The merchants of the Calimala ranked second 
 among the Arti, or guilds, into which professions and trades 
 were divided that of the Doctors of Laws and notaries taking 
 precedence, the bankers holding the third place, and the wool 
 merchants, with the dyers and dressers, following. More than 
 30,000 souls were employed in the woollen manufacture ; and 
 it is said that, at a single fair, woollen goods to the amount of 
 12,000,000 crowns were sometimes sold. The merchants of 
 Florence were not only rich and powerful, but held their heads 
 very high. They were everywhere considered fit company for 
 princes. None of the superior trades and few of the others 
 were beneath a citizen's attention, even in the highest families. 
 Their sons were early placed in shops or warehouses first in 
 Florence and then abroad. They travelled from country to 
 country, becoming acquainted with the world and acquiring 
 cultivation and experience of the most valuable kind. In point 
 of fact, every citizen, no matter what his rank, should enrol 
 himself a member of one or another of the Arti. 1 Dante's 
 parents, it will be remembered, were of the guild of wool. 
 
 Who knows but that Fazio degli Uberti, noble though he 
 was, may have known something otherwise than by hearsay of 
 the Saia dTrlanda ? Who knows but that he may have seen 
 something of the world beyond the Alps even before he made 
 the circuit commemorated in the Ditta Mutidi?' 2 
 
 1 Napier, Florentine History, vol. ii. (1846); Arthur Young, Travels 
 during the Years 1787-88-89, second edition (1794). The last-named 
 writer traces the excellence of the Florentine fabrics to the Friars Umiliate, 
 who came to the city, in 1239, to improve the manufacture of woollen 
 cloth. They made the finest cloths of the age. He says that he was 
 assured, when at Florence, that an assessment of one shilling a week on 
 the wages of the woollen manufacturers alone built the cathedral. 
 
 Fazio was the grandson of Farinata degli Uberti, the renowned leader 
 of the Ghibelines of Florence, and the conqueror of the Guelphs at the 
 battle of Monte Aperto. Readers of the Divina Commedia will remember 
 the terrible and pathetic scene in Canto x., when Farinata " uprose erect 
 with breast and front, e'en as if hell he had in great despite." Fazio, 
 driven into banishment by the triumphant faction of the day, took the 
 opportunity to travel abroad. On his return he wrote the Ditta Mundi, a 
 historical and geographical description of the world, probably in the year 
 1350. Having spent many years of his old age in Verona, he died in peace 
 there, and there was buried. Tiraboschi, in his Storia della Literatura 
 Italiaiia, tome v., having given a sketch of the poet's career, says, in 
 conclusion, that he was certainly one of the best poets of his time, especially 
 in force and energy of style. Mr. Rossetti is of opinion that Fazio's
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 483 
 
 By a natural progression the woollen manufacture, as a great 
 trade, extended to the northern countries of Europe. " Venice 
 and the other Italian States," says a well-informed writer, 1 
 " carried on the woollen manufacture when the rest of Europe 
 remained ignorant and uncivilised ; but when other countries 
 that produced wool began to manufacture their own materials, 
 the Italian manufactures declined. The Flemings first perceived 
 their advantage for a commercial intercourse with the north of 
 Europe ; and though they were without wool of their own, yet, 
 being nearer to the countries that produced it, particularly 
 England, they were enabled to procure a raw material on 
 cheaper terms, and in a short time to undersell their rivals, 
 and to supersede them in the foreign market." England, in 
 course of time, likewise awoke to a sense of her own advan- 
 tages and interests. Her exports of raw material may have 
 been considerable, but she was far behindhand in weaving 
 wool, until Edward in. directed his energetic mind and strong 
 will to the fostering and extending of a profitable trade. Taking 
 advantage of discontents among the manufacturers of Flanders, 
 he invited Flemish weavers to come and settle in England. 
 Seventy families of Walloons crossed the sea, and established 
 themselves in different towns, but principally in Norwich, 
 where they were frequently visited by the king, and his consort, 
 
 canzone, "portrait of his Lady Angiola of Verona," is a love-song not 
 perhaps surpassed by any poem of its class in existence, and he gives a 
 translation of it in Early Italian Poets, I have never seen the Ditto. 
 Mundi. Quaritch's catalogues some time ago contained a fine MS. on 
 vellum of the work, price ^25 ; a copy of the first edition, likewise on 
 vellum, price $ ; and one or two copies, with some leaves stained, at a 
 lower figure. However, the Ditto. Mundi has disappeared from the latter 
 issues of the catalogue. In the Quin collection, Trinity College Library, 
 there is a splendidly-bound copy of the first edition ; but as far as the 
 reading public are concerned, No. 70 in that collection of rare and beautiful 
 volumes might as well be entombed with Fazio degli Uberti at Verona, for 
 the donor made it a condition of the bequest that no one should be allowed 
 to consult any work in the collection except in the presence of the 
 librarian. One would perhaps think twice before undertaking a journey to 
 Italy in search of a copy of an early edition of the Ditta Mundi, but 
 certainly one would think three times before asking the learned and urbane 
 librarian of T. C. D. to stand by while a reader endeavoured to seize the 
 meaning of what are described as almost unintelligible pages. An edition, 
 " ridotto a buona lezione," was published at Milan in 1826. 
 
 1 Preston, Prize Essay on the Natural Advantages of Ireland, etc. 
 (1803).
 
 484 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 their countrywoman, Philippa of Hainault. These expert 
 manufacturers soon taught the English to work up their own 
 wool into fine cloths. Edward conferred many privileges on 
 the industrious and skilful strangers, and caused various 
 ordinances to be made for the encouragement of the trade. 
 It was enacted that " no man nor woman, great nor small 
 (except the king himself and a few privileged persons), shall 
 wear no cloth other than is made in England, Ireland, Wales, 
 or Scotland." The prices of cloth were fixed by edict, and the 
 fabrics specified which should be worn by the various classes 
 of the community. Moreover, the quality of the woollen 
 shrouds people were to be buried in was prescribed. The 
 king derived a large income from the duty paid on every sack 
 of wool exported. This duty was collected at places or ports 
 called staples, where "the king's staples" were said to be 
 established, and to which all goods should be brought, for 
 payment of the customs, before they could be sold or exported. 
 A Statute of Staple was passed, appointing certain towns to be 
 in future the staple for wools ; the first chapter directing 
 that, for Ireland, staples "shall be perpetually holden at 
 Develin, Waterford, Cork, and Drogheda, and not elsewhere." 
 By other ordinances of the same reign, a staple or market for 
 English wool (Irish, of course, being included) was established 
 at Calais, Bruges, Brussels, Louvain, and Mechlin. 1 
 
 About this time there turns up another remarkable testimony 
 to the excellence of our Irish serges. The promoters of the 
 woollen manufacture in the British Isles found reason to com- 
 plain that in Spain the industrious and enterprising Catalonians 
 were manufacturing serges, and supplying the fabric to the 
 French as Irish. " The stuffs called sayes, made in that country 
 (Ireland), were in such request that they were imitated by the 
 manufacturers of Catalonia, who were in the practice of making 
 the finest woollen goods of every kind." 2 
 
 In course of time the woollen manufactures of England 
 acquired a high character, and were much in demand on the 
 Continent. In the Dutch market, " English serges " were held 
 in superior estimation. But the goods so classed were in 
 reality, to a great extent, Irish ; and the author of the prize 
 
 1 Longman, History of the Life and Times of Edward in., vol. i. 
 (1869). Annals of Commerce, vol. i. Smiles, The Hugtitnots (1867). 
 
 2 Annals of Cotntnerfe, vol. i.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 485 
 
 essay on " The Natural Advantages of Ireland " shows how it 
 was that our native manufacture, in this instance, lost its 
 identity. The criterion of the buyer, he remarks, was a 
 particular manner of folding and packing. Quantities of 
 Irish serges used to be sent to England. They were then new- 
 folded and packed by the English factors, who received a per- 
 centage for their trouble, and finally were exported to the 
 Dutch market, under the denomination of English serges. 
 
 However, the Irish did not by any means pass all their 
 products through the neighbouring island. Their merchants 
 had establishments at the Brabant marts, or fairs, and dealt in 
 a great variety of commodities, among which wool and fells of 
 hides are enumerated. Towards the end of the fifteenth 
 century, trade with foreign countries was greatly facilitated, for 
 Ireland as well as England, by the conclusion of a treaty of 
 peace, commerce, and alliance between Henry vn. of England 
 and the Archduke Philip, sovereign of the Netherlands. By 
 the provisions of this treaty, liberty was allowed on both sides 
 to trade to each others dominions without asking for licence or 
 passport; and to carry all manner of merchandise, whether 
 wool, leather, victuals, arms, horses, jewels, and other wares, 
 either by land or water, from Calais, England, and Ireland to 
 the countries of Brabant, Flanders, etc. That the flourishing 
 city of Waterford carried on a direct trade in wool with Brabant, 
 and enjoyed valuable privileges in connection with its wool 
 exports even before that treaty was concluded, is evident from 
 an inquiry that took place in the same reign (referred to in 
 Molyneux's Case of Ireland) regarding a Walerford vessel, 
 carrying wool to Sluice (1'Ecluse, the port of Bruges), which 
 was driven by stress of weather into Calais, and seized there by 
 the governor. It was pleaded by the owners that the merchants 
 of Waterford and their successors had a licence from the King 
 of England to carry wool where they pleased. 1 Traces of an 
 
 1 Campion, writing in the reign of Elizabeth, describes Waterford and 
 Dungarvan as full of traffic with England, France, and Spain, by means of 
 their excellent good haven. A writer in the Ulster Archteological Journal 
 (vol. vi. ) gives an interesting sketch of the city, its extensive trade in 
 days gone by, and the attractions it possessed for foreigners at all times. 
 The writer, the Rev. T. Gimlette, among other remarks, makes in substance 
 the following: From the earliest times Waterford afforded a home and 
 shelter to the foreigner. The Danes made it one of their first settlements. 
 Norman knights established themselves there. Templars and Knights of
 
 486 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 Irish trade with this part of Europe turn up at the date of 
 Elizabeth's reign. Guicciardini, in his description of the 
 Netherlands (quoted in the Annals of Commerce), says that 
 Antwerp takes from Ireland skins and leather of diverse sorts, 
 and some low-priced cloths. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE foregoing sketch, slight though it is, shows plainly 
 enough that Irish weavers were not unskilled in remote days, 
 and that the serges, friezes, and other stuffs they produced 
 were of no mean value. And yet, some writers would lead 
 careless readers to imagine that the inhabitants of Ireland 
 knew little of arts or industry until the fortunate day when 
 the province of Ulster was planted with English and Scot- 
 tish farmers, traders, weavers, and labourers, in the reign of 
 James i. Mr. Froude, for example, says that the new colonists 
 " went over to earn a living by labour in a land which had 
 produced little but banditti"; and that then, "for the first 
 time, the natural wealth of Ireland began to reveal itself; 
 commerce sprung up ; . . . busy fingers were set at work on 
 loom and spinning-wheel ; fields, fenced and drained, grew 
 yellow with rolling corn, and the vast herds and flocks which 
 had wandered at will on hill and valley were turned to pro- 
 
 St. John, on their return from the Crusades, settled in the city on the Suir, 
 and Dominicans and Franciscans from France and Spain had convents and 
 churches in the midst of the population. In the days of Henry vil. the 
 Irish traffic with the south of France for Gascoigne wines was almost 
 monopolised by Waterford, which became in succeeding reigns the great 
 port of transit, not alone to England and Wales, but also to Flanders, 
 Spain, and many parts of France. Continental traders in the middle of 
 the sixteenth century discovered the peculiar advantages of a residence in 
 the town, and settled there. Later on the Huguenots founded families 
 which long maintained an honourable position in the land of their 
 adoption. 
 
 It may be interesting to note that a city which in times nearer to our 
 own sank to a low position as a trading port ("Busy as a Waterford 
 merchant doing nothing," was a common saying in the south not so long 
 ago), is every day rising in commercial importance. The quay has a busy 
 character added to its native picturesqueness ; and at Kilmacthomas, not 
 many miles from the city, is the seat of a flourishing woollen manufactory, 
 one of the few of which Ireland now can boast,
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 487 
 
 fitable account." Assuredly, the author of The English in 
 Ireland was wool-gathering himself when he discovered that 
 the arts of spinning and weaving were a novelty to the abori- 
 gines of the island, and that the vast flocks of Erin had from 
 time immemorial wandered up hill and down dale, idly con- 
 suming their own fleeces. 
 
 If such had been the case, what could be the meaning of 
 a proposal seriously made in the very reign of the monarch 
 who decreed the Plantation, to the effect that a restraint should 
 be laid upon the wools and woolfels of Ireland, the exportation 
 of which was calculated to interfere prejudicially with Eng- 
 land's foreign trade? 1 Commerce could not have been 
 created and extended with such amazing celerity, in a country 
 inhabited by lawless men and useless animals, as to become 
 already a danger to the State which had undertaken to 
 civilise the dependent province. A trade which included 
 exports to Spain and Portugal of hides, wool, yarn, rugs, 
 blankets, and " sheep-skins with the wool," in the early years 
 of King James's successor, was surely not a growth of yester- 
 day's date. Again, fighting with windmills was hardly one of 
 Strafford's foibles ; and he, at anyrate, when his turn came 
 to do something for Ireland, would not have given himself so 
 much trouble in planning the destruction of a trade which was 
 only new-born. 
 
 Strafford's scheme for holding Ireland in subjection, and 
 draining her resources for the benefit of a ruined exchequer 
 and a faithless king, was at once bold in outline and com- 
 prehensive in detail. If, instead of legislating for a nation, 
 the Lord-Deputy had been maliciously bent on taking all the 
 savour and sweetness and warmth out of the life of a colony 
 of galley-slaves, he could not have devised anything more 
 likely to effect his purpose. He strove to secure for the 
 government in Ireland a monopoly of salt and a monopoly of 
 tobacco ; he contemplated imposing a tax on bees ; and he was 
 determined to prevent the Irish from exporting their wool, or 
 manufacturing it at home for their own use. "Wentworth 
 resolved," says his biographer, " that all the wool manufactures 
 
 1 This was in 1622. Referring to the circumstance, Smith, in his 
 Memoirs of IVool(if^j), makes the following remark : " Here, then, by the 
 way, it may be noted that the exportation of wool from Ireland is a com- 
 plaint of a more early date than is commonly observed,"
 
 488 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 of Ireland should be stopped, in order to compel her to pur- 
 chase them from England. The Irish were not to be allowed 
 to weave or spin their own wool, but this same wool was first 
 to be taken to England, where it was to pay a heavy duty, and, 
 when turned into cloth, carried back to Ireland, where again 
 a duty was to be imposed, thus absolutely doubling the 
 customs." 1 
 
 The writer of a recently published pamphlet, 2 which includes 
 a good deal of information of a useful and seasonable kind, 
 having referred in general terms to Strafford's system of legal 
 spoliation, seems greatly to wonder how so grave a historian 
 as Leland should impute to a statesman like Wentworth the 
 design of restraining the Irish from indraping their own wool, 
 for the direct purpose of reducing the people to such a strait 
 that they could not revolt from their allegiance to the Crown 
 without nakedness to themselves and their families. Mr. 
 Blackburne scouts the notion that Wentworth, who, " what- 
 ever his failings and prejudices may have been, was unques- 
 tionably a man of intellect and talent," should have originated 
 the notion of " strengthening the connection between the two 
 countries by the inability of the nation to revolt in conse- 
 quence of their having no clothes." One can hardly read this 
 part of the pamphlet without a smile. The pity is, that two or 
 three such pages did not fall in the way of the modern Clothes 
 Philosopher when that master of trenchant satire was engaged 
 on his Sartor Resartus. 
 
 Making excuses for Straffbrd in this matter of the wool is 
 simply labour lost. His own words leave no doubt as to his 
 intentions or the heartiness of his endeavour. " I am of 
 opinion," he says, " that all wisdom advises to keep this king- 
 dom as much subordinate and dependent upon England as 
 possible; and holding them from the manufacture of wool 
 (which, unless otherwise directed, I shall by all means dis- 
 courage), and then enforcing them to fetch their clothing from 
 thence, and to take their salt from the king (being that which 
 gives value to all their native staple commodities), how can 
 they depart from us without nakedness and beggary ? " Lord 
 
 1 Elizabeth Cooper, The Life of Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford 
 (1874), vol. i. 
 
 2 Edward Blackburne, Causes of the Decadence of the Industries of 
 Ireland (\t&\).
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 489 
 
 Stratford's biographer justly remarks that such a sentence as 
 this would alone be sufficient to wipe out the memory of a 
 thousand benefits, and wonders at " the cold cruelty of binding, 
 in the fetters of contingent rags and famine, the ' little sister ' 
 whose wealth was to enrich the ' more excellent ' by means of 
 her silver mines," etc. 
 
 The scheme for compelling the Irish to take from the king 
 alone the salt without which they must starve, since they de- 
 pended so much on salted provisions for their subsistence, fell 
 to the ground when it was discovered that the profit would be 
 too small to compensate for the trouble of carrying it into 
 execution. Nor did the earl wear his head long enough to 
 mature the plan for making the Irish dependent on England 
 for their clothing, and hindering them from continuing their 
 exports of woollens, which, he conceived, were likely to beat, 
 by their cheapness, the English out of the trade. 
 
 As a set-off against this base attack on Irish wool, I must 
 note that, during StrafFord's administration in Ireland, the 
 native fashions in beards and clothes were freed from the 
 penalties imposed on them by former Governments. In the 
 session of 1634-35, an Act was passed in Dublin " for Repeal 
 of divers statutes heretofore enacted in this kingdom of 
 Ireland," and, as the preamble sets forth, to put an end to the 
 distinction between subjects, since now the happy change of 
 times allowed of such abolition. One of those Acts, which 
 " shall be from henceforth utterly repealed and made voyde of 
 none effect to all intents, constructions, and purposes," was 
 that made in the twenty -fifth year of the reign of King 
 Henry vi., whereby it was ordained " that he that will be 
 taken for an Englishman shall not use a beard upon his upper 
 lip alone," under penalty of being dealt with as an Irish 
 enemy. Another of the repealed Acts was one passed in the 
 fifth year of Edward iv., the plain meaning of which was that 
 anyone arrested under suspicious circumstances " in the county 
 Meath " might be killed offhand, unless he had in his company 
 a " faithful man of good name or fame in English apparel." 
 
 Thus, after a conflict of more than four hundred years 
 between Irish obstinacy and English statutes, the natives and 
 their mantles remained in possession of the field. 
 
 A French gentleman, who came here soon after the Irish 
 war broke out, and wrote an account of his travels through the
 
 490 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 country, describes the dress of " the Irish whom the English 
 call savages." " Their breeches," he says, " are a pantaloon of 
 white frieze, which they call trowsers, and for mantles they 
 have five or six yards of frieze drawn round the neck, the 
 body, and over the head." "The women," he observes, "wear 
 a very large mantle, the cape being made of coarse woollen 
 frieze, in the manner of the women of Lower Normandy." The 
 traveller notes also that the Irish, who import wine and salt 
 from France, sell their strong frieze cloths at good prices. 1 
 Massari, Dean of Fermo, who, as secretary, accompanied the 
 Papal Nuncio Rinuccini on his embassy to Ireland, describes 
 in his journal the dress of the Irish women. He remarks that 
 the costume somewhat resembles the French mode. " All 
 wear cloaks," he says, " 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." The Italian traveller does not fail to observe 
 the sheep of the country, "from which fine wool is made." 2 
 
 Another testimony to the estimation in which the Irish 
 fleece was held in the seventeenth century is given in Drayton's 
 allusion to the Leinster wool 
 
 "Whose staple doth excel, 
 And seems to overmatch the golden Phrygian fell." 
 
 Already I have given Sir William Petty's observations on 
 the domestic manufacture of woollen cloths later in the same 
 century; but, apropos of the people whom the English call 
 savages, I cannot help calling to mind another sentence or 
 two from the Political Anatomy of Ireland. The writer says : 
 the diet, housing, and clothing of the 16,000 families who are 
 computed to have more than one chimney in their houses, " is 
 much the same as in England; nor is the French elegance 
 unknown in many of them, nor the French and Latin tongues, 
 the latter whereof is very frequent among the poorest Irish, 
 and chiefly in Kerry, most remote from Dublin." 
 
 Before leaving too far behind the Earl of Strafford's era, a 
 word about Irish linen and his services to that trade may be 
 
 1 The Tottr of the French Traveller, M. de la Boullaye le Gouz, in 
 Ireland, A.D. 1644. Edited by T. Crofton Croker (1837). 
 
 - Rev. C. P. Meehan, The Irish Hierarchy in the Seventeenth Century 
 Fifth ed. (1877),
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 491 
 
 permitted. Unquestionably, he did much to improve the 
 cultivation of flax. He invited Flemish and French artisans 
 to settle in Ireland and devote their better skill to the produc- 
 tion of superior linens. Furthermore, he embarked ,30,000 
 of his private fortune in the trade. But it is a mistake to 
 speak of his having " introduced " the manufacture among the 
 Irish, and "set our women to spin," as we hear so often 
 repeated. Linen was, in point of fact, an article of clothing in 
 very early times in Ireland. Lenas, or vests of linen, were 
 worn by the higher classes of the ancient population, and 
 "kingly linen" is a term met with in old poems. Among the 
 commodities on sale in the thirteenth century at town markets 
 and fairs, linen is mentioned. "Linen cloth falding" is one 
 of the articles enumerated as being imported into Chester from 
 Ireland in the fifteenth century ; and linen cloth was sold in 
 the same period in the Irish establishment in the Brabant 
 marts. Extravagance in the use of linen in their apparel was 
 more than once the subject of complaint against the Irish, and 
 furnished matter, too, for legislation. In 1539, an Act of 
 Parliament limited the quantity for each shirt to seven yards. 
 Somewhat later, Spenser described the thick-fold linen shirts of 
 the native Irish. 
 
 Strafford and his interest in the linen manufacture may be 
 dismissed in the words of Dr. Smiles, who says it was greatly 
 to the credit of the earl that he should have endeavoured to 
 improve the industry of Ireland by introducing the superior 
 processes employed by the foreign artisans; and had he not 
 attempted to turn the improved flax manufacture to his own 
 advantage by erecting it into a personal monopoly, he might 
 have been entitled to regard as a genuine benefactor of 
 Ireland." 1 
 
 Despite of heavy duties, and Strafford's ominous hostility, 
 the woollen manufactures of Ireland continued to flourish. 
 Considerable injury, however, was inflicted on the trade by the 
 wasting of the stock throughout the country during the Civil 
 War and the Cromwellian devastations. 2 
 
 1 The ffuguftiots. 
 
 - In WhitelocK's Memorials (quoted in Memoirs of Wool), under the date 
 of 6th April 1652, appears the following summary of news from Ireland : 
 " Letters of the Forces of the Parliament about Eniscorfy (Ireland) 
 burning the corn, and every morning the houses they quartered in the
 
 492 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 Cattle and wool rose to a high price in England, owing to the 
 failure of the supplies from the neighbouring island. And yet, 
 as if Ireland still possessed the glorious prerogative of youth, 
 prosperity returned with the Restoration, and the trading 
 industries not only revived, but gave promise of advancing to 
 a position of the highest importance. Energy and hope had a 
 fair field for a few short years ; and then the cattle trade 
 received a fatal blow, and the wool entered on a new chapter 
 of its history. 
 
 V. 
 
 FOR a long time previous to this date, an extensive trade in 
 the export of live cattle from Ireland to England had been 
 carried on. Since the war had come to an end, these exports 
 had greatly increased, and formed, in fact, a chief source of 
 Irish wealth. On inquiry it was found that at this period there 
 had been about 61,000 head of great cattle brought -over 
 annually from Ireland. Rents having fallen in England soon 
 after the Restoration, the calamity was erroneously attri- 
 buted to the importation of Irish stock; and the landowners 
 demanded that British should be closed against the Irish 
 cattle dealers. The House of Commons determined to carry 
 a prohibitory Act, in spite of the remonstrance of the Duke of 
 Ormonde, Viceroy of Ireland ; in opposition to the Upper 
 House, in which the Lord Chancellor of England and the 
 Duke of York (afterwards James n.) both spoke against the 
 measure ; and in open contempt of the king, who considered 
 the proceedings impolitic for England as well as prejudicial 
 and grievous to Ireland, and publicly declared that he could not 
 give his assent to so unjust a thing. To such an extreme was 
 the animosity of the country party in England carried, that 
 when the Corporation of London petitioned Parliament to be 
 allowed to accept a present of 20,000 (or, as some say, 30,000) 
 
 night before ; killed and took many Irish ; that he was an idle soldier who 
 had not a veal, lamb, poultry, or all, for his supper." 
 
 The Civil War "almost annihilated every manufacture in Ireland ; and 
 that country, which had so abounded in cattle and provisions, was, after 
 Cromwell's settlement of it, obliged to import provisions from Wales." 
 Lord Sheffield, Observations on the Manufactures, Trade, and Present 
 State of Ireland (1785).
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 493 
 
 live cattle subscribed by the Irish people for distribution 
 among the sufferers by the Fire of London, matters were so 
 contrived in the House of Commons as to oblige the Corpora- 
 tion to consider it a more prudent course to decline the gift. 1 
 
 The contest was not protracted. In 1663 an Act was 
 passed absolutely prohibiting the importation from Ireland, at 
 all times, of cattle (dead or alive), sheep or swine, beef, pork, 
 or bacon, under pain of forfeiture of one-half to the use of the 
 seizer or informer, the other half to the poor of the parish 
 where the said should be found or seized. Three years later, 
 this Act was made perpetual, with a clause introduced against 
 horses. To make the ruin complete, butter and cheese were 
 added to the commodities that in future should not be exported 
 from Ireland to the parent country. 2 
 
 Ireland was thrown into consternation by this enactment. 
 Deep distress ensued. The price of horses fell from thirty 
 shillings to one shilling, and that of beeves from fifty shillings 
 to ten shillings. Despair overwhelmed the people; but the 
 Duke of Ormonde threw off the incubus, making " no doubt 
 but Ireland would by time, peace, and industry recover itself 
 from the blow it now received from England." In the develop- 
 ment of home industries he saw the best resource for such a 
 crisis. He turned his attention to trade in general, and to the 
 
 1 See the Eighth Report of the Royal Commission on Historical Manu- 
 scripts (1881). 
 
 2 Carte, in his great work, comments on this example of paternal 
 government. "The English seem never to have understood," he says, 
 "the art of governing their provinces, and have always treated them in 
 such a manner as either to put them under necessity, or subject them to 
 the temptation, of casting off their government whenever an opportunity 
 offered. It was a series of this impolitic conduct which lost them 
 Normandy, Poictou, Anjou, Guyenne, and all the dominions which they 
 formerly had in France. . . . When Rochelle, Saintes, Engousleme, and 
 other towns in those provinces, submitted to the kings of P'rance, they 
 took particular care to insert in their capitulations an express article, that, 
 in any circumstances or distress of the affairs of France, they should never 
 be delivered back into the power of the English. It is not a little surpris- 
 ing that a thinking people, as the English are, should not grow wiser by 
 any experience, and after losing such considerable territories abroad by 
 their oppressive treatment of them, should go on to hazard the loss of 
 Ireland, and endeavour the ruin of a colony of their own countrymen 
 planted in that kingdom." Life of James, Duke of Ormonde, vol. vi. 
 
 Carte, an Englishman and a Protestant minister, died in 1754. He 
 could not have dreamed that the revolt of the American colonies would 
 add another example of the misgovernment of the parent State.
 
 494 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 manufacture of woollens in especial. Not that the wool trade, 
 any more than the cattle trade, had been left unmolested by 
 jealous interference. It was clogged by vexatious disabilities. 
 Wools could not be exported to England except by the 
 particular licence of the Lord-Lieutenant; and by a manoeuvre, 
 which can only be described as despicable trickery, Ireland 
 was deprived by the amended Navigation Act of 1663 of the 
 colonial trade which she had previously enjoyed, 1 and which, 
 in such a juncture as the present, might open up for woollens 
 as well as for other commodities a profitable outlet. 
 
 Still, there were opportunities which might now be taken 
 advantage of, and possibilities which might serve to animate 
 and encourage all who had the interest of the country at heart. 
 The king, anxious to compensate Ireland in some degree for 
 the injustice and injury inflicted on her so much against his 
 will by the ruin of her cattle trade, directed, by a letter dated 
 the 23rd of March 1667, that all restraints upon the exportation 
 of commodities of the growth and manufacture of Ireland to 
 foreign parts should be taken off, and this favour was notified 
 by a proclamation from the Lord-Lieutenant and Council. 2 
 Thus, though New England was barred, France, Spain, and 
 Portugal were rendered more accessible. Again, if the Irish 
 manufacturers could be taught to produce fine broadcloth as 
 well as the friezes, stuffs, and serges for which they were already 
 celebrated, English woollens might be entirely excluded. Sir 
 William Petty, as we read in Carte, presented to the Duke of 
 Ormonde a memorial for the encouragement of woollen fabrics, 
 "chiefly recommending the setting up of manufactures of fine 
 worsted stockings and Norwich stuffs in all parts of the nation 
 for making the best advantage of their wool and employing 
 their poor." The Council of Trade approved of this proposal, 
 and the viceroy lent his aid, not merely by the bestowal of 
 fair words, but by taking on himself both trouble and expense 
 in carrying out the plan suggested. He established a woollen 
 
 1 For an account of the way in which this act of legislative treachery was 
 performed, see the speech of Lord North in the British House of Commons, 
 November 13, 1799. On that occasion the Minister of the Crown exposed 
 in clear terms "the commercial restrictions of which Ireland so justly 
 complained." The speech will be found in Plowden's Historical Review 
 of the State of Ireland, vol. i. (1803). 
 
 2 Hely Hutchinson, The Commercial Restraints of Ireland, etc. (1799)- 
 Cheap reissue recently published by M. H. Gill & Son, Dublin.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 495 
 
 manufactory at Clonmel, the capital of his county palatine of 
 Tipperary, bringing over 500 Walloon families from the neigh- 
 bourhood of Canterbury to carry it on, and giving houses and 
 land on long leases, with only an acknowledgment instead of 
 rent from the undertakers. Also, in Kilkenny and Carrick-on- 
 Suir, the duke established large colonies of those industrious 
 foreigners, so well skilled in the preparation and weaving of 
 wool. 1 About the same time a number of clothiers (master 
 manufacturers) from the West of England, " finding their trade 
 decaying, removed themselves and their families over into 
 Ireland, invited by the cheapness of wool and of livelihood." 
 Some of the English immigrants established a manufactory 
 in Dublin, while others fixed themselves at Cork and Kinsale. 
 In Limerick, new vigour was infused into the trade by the 
 arrival of a colony of sixty families from Holland ; and the 
 manufacturing population of Waterford was increased by the 
 accession of some Frenchmen, who established a drugget 
 factory in the city. 
 
 Capital being now freely invested and new markets found, 
 rapid progress was made. The towns assumed a busy, 
 thriving air. Even the face of the country was changed ; 
 for, in order to keep up the supply of wool, vast tracts of 
 land were turned into sheep-walks. Naturally, the peasantry 
 looked with anything but favour on this advance of trade at 
 the expense of agriculture. They did not like being driven 
 
 1 The first migration of Walloon weavers to England took place, as 
 already stated, in the reign of Edward in.; another settlement was made 
 under favour of Elizabeth, who welcomed to her dominions the artisans of 
 the Netherlands, driven out by the Duke of Alva's persecution, and 
 granted her protection, at the same time, to the French Protestant 
 refugees. The Walloons on this occasion settled in large numbers at 
 Canterbury and other places, and employed themselves in manufacturing 
 various kinds of cloth. A place of worship within Canterbury Cathedral 
 was granted to them, and to the foreign refugees of all nations settled in 
 the place. Numerous bodies of foreign artisans passed over into Ireland 
 during the same reign, and settled in Dublin, Waterford, Limerick, 
 Belfast, etc. Restrictions were imposed by Act of Parliament on the 
 exportation of raw wool and woollen yarn from Ireland, to this end among 
 others, " that artificers may, by the abundance of the commodities within 
 the realm, be allured to come into the same to work them within this 
 realm, and thereby to give example to others to use that trade to the great 
 commodity and profit of the realm." Early in the reign of James I. other 
 detachments of Flemings and French crossed over into Ireland and added 
 new strength to the trade.
 
 496 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 into the mountains, bogs, and woody parts, to make way for 
 the fleecy flocks. " I have myself," writes a contemporary, 
 "very frequently heard them curse the English sheep with 
 all the bitterness and rancour imaginable." Presently, when 
 the War of the Revolution burst over Ireland, the evicted 
 agriculturists took an insane revenge, killing hundreds of the 
 sheep in the fields, driving off the flocks of the Protestant 
 proprietors, slaughtering until they had consumed all, and, to 
 quote the same authority, producing by their reckless proceed- 
 ings so great a scarcity in the country that, if the Irish army 
 had not been plentifully relieved from France, a great number 
 must have perished of famine. 
 
 With the return of peace on the triumph of the Williamite 
 cause, the wool-growers and the manufacturers retrieved their 
 losses with amazing rapidity. The security which a settled 
 Government seemed to promise animated the trading com- 
 munities to renewed activity, and the losses which the country 
 had sustained by the Cattle Bill were now fully made up. 
 Although the woollen manufactures were almost exclusively 
 in the hands of Protestant settlers, the general population 
 benefited largely by the extension of trade. Catholic artisans, 
 albeit excluded from trade privileges, had nevertheless their 
 share of work in the inferior branches of the industry. 
 Catholic wool-growers followed their profitable avocations in 
 the pastoral districts, finding in their old connection with 
 France a ready outlet for any surplus store which might 
 remain after the home demand had been supplied. Catholic 
 traders in the towns flourished with the rest. " So thriving 
 and prosperous were the affairs of the Irish," says the authority 
 above quoted, " that apprehensions were entertained that the 
 estates of the Protestants would ultimately fall into their hands 
 by purchase." In fact, some of the lands forfeited in the 
 Revolution War had been actually purchased back by the 
 Catholic traders whose rightful heritage they were. Even the 
 peasantry felt that a good time had come, and gave up " spoil- 
 ing the Egyptians " in the barbarous fashion they had devised. 
 The late war and the later peace had brought about a change 
 in the state of affairs which opened up for the poorer classes 
 an opportunity of bettering their condition. The Protestant 
 properties, as Matthew O'Conor observes, had become much 
 embarrassed by dispossession during the continuance of the
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 497 
 
 contest, and the proprietors, being unable to stock thejr lands 
 after the peace, were under the necessity of leasing them to 
 the peasantry at low rents, and for long terms of years. The 
 peasantry thus acquired valuable interests, and became a rich, 
 a sturdy, and independent yeomanry ; even that miserable race 
 known by the name of cottiers, the working slaves of the Irish 
 gentry, were in a more thriving and prosperous condition in 
 those days than at any subsequent period. Most of them 
 were in the possession of a cow, one or two goats, and six or 
 seven sheep. 1 
 
 Thus a new era seemed to have dawned an era of healthy 
 activity and remunerative industry. Well-nigh two hundred 
 years have passed since then, and we who live in the distracted 
 Ireland of to-day are left to conjecture how different the 
 state of things might be if the Treaty of Limerick had never 
 been violated ; if " the ferocious Acts of Queen Anne " had 
 never been promulgated ; and if the wool trade had been 
 suffered to develop into a great national industry. 
 
 VI. 
 
 IT could hardly be supposed that the passion for monopoly 
 which had its triumph in the Cattle Bill was laid to rest, once 
 and for ever, by the consummation of that deed of iniquity. 
 The jealousy of the country party in England may, indeed, 
 have been pacified by the ruin of the Irish cattle-feeders, but 
 the national vice broke out before long in another direction. 
 Apprehensions were now aroused in commercial circles by the 
 success of the Irish woollen manufactures. Reason might 
 have suggested that the prosperity of Ireland could not in the 
 longrun be an injury to England, and that even in the wool 
 trade the two countries might work in fair emulation, com- 
 mand new markets for their improved fabrics, and together 
 carry on a splendid rivalry with the manufacturing nations of 
 the Continent. Such wide views, however, were not enter- 
 tained by more than one man in the million. Unreasoning 
 selfishness carried the day. As early as 1673, Sir William 
 Temple, at the request of the Earl of Essex, then Viceroy of 
 
 1 History of the Irish Catholics (1813). 
 32
 
 498 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 Ireland, publicly proposed that the manufacture of woollens 
 (except in the inferior branches) should be relinquished in 
 Ireland, as tending to interfere prejudicially with the English 
 trade. In all probability, the Irish manufacturers of broad 
 cloths would gain on their English rivals ; and the improve- 
 ment of woollen fabrics in this kingdom, argued the statesman, 
 " would give so great a damp to the trade of England, that it 
 seems not fit to be encouraged here." 
 
 Sir William's suggestion was not immediately acted on, but 
 it showed the way the wind blew in high quarters. By and by 
 there were ominous mutterings of the storm in lower levels ; 
 and in response to popular clamour, several Acts were passed, 
 early in the reign of William and Mary, restricting the expor- 
 tation of wool and woollens from Ireland. However, elated 
 by the success they had already achieved, the Irish clothiers 
 disregarded all penalties, found means to elude the vigilance 
 of the authorities, and got off their wool and woollens in spite 
 of Acts and prohibitions. This state of things could not 
 continue long. Agitation in England became more violent. 
 Petitions from the excited centres of British commerce showed 
 Parliament what kind of legislation was expected from the 
 representatives of the trading nation. Both houses addressed 
 the king. 
 
 The Lords represented that : " The growing manufacture of 
 cloth in Ireland, both by the cheapness of all sorts of neces- 
 saries of life and the goodness of material for making all 
 manner of cloth," having made the king's loyal subjects in 
 England very apprehensive that the further growth of it would 
 greatly prejudice the said manufacture here, and lessen the 
 value of lands; they, the Lords, besought his most sacred 
 Majesty to be pleased, " in the most public and effectual way 
 that may be," to declare to all his subjects of Ireland, that 
 "the growth and increase of the woollen manufacture there 
 hath long been, and will ever be, looked upon with great 
 jealousy by all his subjects of the kingdom of England," 
 etc. 
 
 The Commons of England, in Parliament assembled : 
 " Being very sensible that the wealth and power of this 
 kingdom do, in a great measure, depend on the preservation 
 of the woollen manufacture as much as possible entire to this 
 realm," conceived that it became them, like their ancestors,
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 499 
 
 to be jealous of the increase and establishment of it else- 
 where, and to use their utmost endeavours to prevent it. 
 " They cannot without trouble observe that Ireland should of 
 late apply itself to the woollen manufacture, to the great pre- 
 judice of the trade of England. . . . Parliament will be 
 necessitated to interfere to prevent the mischief that threatens. 
 . . . His Majesty's protection and favour in this matter is 
 most humbly implored," etc. 
 
 William in., of glorious, pious, and immortal memory, 
 discovered no sign of having been visited with any disturbing 
 sentiment of indignation or pity, such as moved even the 
 " merrie monarch " in similar circumstances, though it is 
 likely he may have winced under the ungenerous pressure 
 put on him by the Lords and Commons, whose nominee he 
 was. " The king replied briefly," says Mr. Froude, " that the 
 wish of Parliament should be carried out, and Ireland was 
 invited to apply the knife to her own throat. Two letters of 
 William to the Lords Justices survive in Dublin Castle, 
 embodying the words of the two Addresses, and recommend- 
 ing to the legislature the worst and most fatal of all the mis- 
 taken legislative experiments to which a dependent country 
 was ever subjected by the folly of its superiors." 1 
 
 Animated by the imminence of the danger, the Irish manu- 
 facturers made what remonstrance and resistance they could. 
 Their cause was defended by an array of pamphlets, showing 
 forth how destructive to the interests of the United Kingdom, 
 how disastrous to the Protestant cause, how criminal in every 
 sense would be the destruction of the woollen trade, which 
 was the mainstay of the English colony, the English garrison, 
 the English religion, the English dominion in Ireland ! Ap- 
 peals to the higher interests, the political integrity, the fanati- 
 cism of the parent country, were urged in every mood and 
 tense. According to these desperate champions of a cause 
 which was every moment growing more hopeless, there would 
 be no chance of saving Ireland from the grip of the Pope of 
 Rome, or preserving the British Isles from the clutches of the 
 King of France if once Hibernia's wool were sacrificed. 
 High over the heads of the forlorn hope towered one of the 
 representatives in Parliament of the University of Dublin. 
 He, William Molyneux, took up his position on loftier ground. 
 1 The English in Ireland, vol. i.
 
 500 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 Boldly attacking Poynings' Act, he impugned England's right 
 to make laws for Ireland. 1 In his famous treatise, The Case 
 of Ireland's being bound by Acts of Parliament in England 
 Stated, he took care to say that he had not any concern in 
 wool or the wool trade ; and, in fact, he left the question 
 altogether on one side. However, no one doubted that it 
 was the wool in danger that prompted this supreme effort, 
 nor did he himself deny that it was the interference of the 
 English Parliament in the woollen manufacture of Ireland 
 which led to the publication of the book. " This," said the 
 author, writing to his friend, the philosopher Locke, "you will 
 say is a nice subject, but I think I have treated it with that 
 caution and submission that it cannot justly give offence ; in 
 so much that I scruple not to put my name to it, and, by 
 advice of some of my good friends here, have presumed to 
 dedicate it to His Majesty." Notwithstanding all his care, he 
 could not be certain what effect it might possibly have ; for 
 " God only knows what resentments captious men may take 
 on such occasions." The Case of Ireland created a sensation 
 on both sides of the Channel, excited the English Parliament 
 to a higher pitch of animosity, and hastened the catastrophe. 
 "On the 2ist of May, a member of the House of Commons 
 produced the obnoxious pamphlet, read portions of it to his 
 indignant fellow-members, and obtained the appointment of a 
 committee to report on its insolent defiance of the sovereign 
 power of the English Parliament over Ireland." 2 Forthwith 
 the Parliament of England addressed the king, beseeching His 
 Majesty that the laws restraining the Parliament of Ireland 
 should not be evaded, denouncing the Case as seditious and 
 libellous, and praying the sovereign to discover and punish 
 the offender. William did not concern himself to "dis- 
 
 1 The particular statute known as Poynings' Act was one which pro- 
 vided that henceforth no Parliament should be held in Ireland until the 
 Chief Governor and Council had first certified to the king, under the Great 
 Seal, " as well the causes and considerations as the Acts they designed to 
 pass, and till the same should be approved by the king and Council." 
 This Act virtually made the Irish Parliament a nullity ; and when, in after 
 times, it came to affect not merely the English pale, for which it was 
 originally framed, but the whole of Ireland when brought under English 
 law, it was felt to be one of the most intolerable grievances under which 
 this country suffered." Haverty, History of Ireland. 
 
 2 Bourne, Tin Life of Jo/in Locke, vol. ii. (1876).
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 501 
 
 cover " the member for Trinity College, but the book, by 
 order of the English Parliament, was burnt by the common 
 hangman. 
 
 Without delay the work of demolition then proceeded. 
 After a bootless struggle on the part of a brave minority, 
 the Irish Parliament gave effect to the king's recommendation 
 to the Lords Justices, " to avoid giving jealousy to England by 
 the further maintenance of the woollen manufacture in the 
 kingdom," and imposed duties amounting to a prohibition on 
 the exportation of Irish woollens. Immediately after, an 
 English Act of Parliament (xoth, nth of William in., ch. 10) 
 suppressed the manufacture in toto. Irish wool and woollens 
 were not in future to be exported to any countries except 
 England and Wales, from which places, as everyone knew, 
 they were already virtually excluded by heavy duties. Evi- 
 dence of the activity of the doomed trade is afforded in the 
 long list of prohibited articles embodied in the statute. Wool, 
 woolfels, worsted, and woolflocks ; woollen yarn, cloth, serge, 
 bays, kerseys, and sayes ; friezes^ druggets, cloth-serges, shal- 
 loons, and other drapery stuffs are^enumerated. To prevent 
 any possible infringement of the new ordinances, penalties of 
 the severest kind are imposed on all who take any part in con- 
 veying the raw material or the manufactured articles out of the 
 kingdom. Any such commodities found on board ship shall, 
 according to the statute, be at once forfeited. The ship itself 
 shall be forfeited. The master of the vessel, every sailor on 
 board, every other person knowing of the transaction, shall be 
 fined ^40 each. Ships suspected of being engaged in the 
 prohibited commerce, and wool and woollen fabrics intended 
 for foreign exportation, wherever met, wherever discovered, 
 may be seized by any person whatsoever. And, for the more 
 effectual carrying out of the law, it is enacted that two ships of 
 the fifth rate, two ships of the sixth rate, and eight armed 
 sloops, shall constantly cruise on the shore of Ireland, parti- 
 cularly between the north of Ireland and Scotland, with power 
 to enter and search any vessel ; and if any Irish wool or woollens 
 bound for foreign parts should be discovered on board, to seize 
 ship, cargo, and crew. 1 
 
 1 That other reaches of the island shore required as close watching as 
 the Ulster seaboard became apparent after some time ; and in the reign 
 of George i., " An Additional Act for the Encouragement of the Woollen
 
 502 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 This sudden and merciless blow was followed by immediate 
 consequences which all had foreseen ; but it also led to results 
 which none could have predicted. The healthy industrial life 
 of the population was at once paralysed. All feeling of security 
 in the body politic vanished at this spectacle of the parent 
 State devouring its own offspring. In Dublin and its suburbs, 
 12,000 English families were reduced to beggary; and 50,000 
 families of the same nation, as well as the settlers of continental 
 origin scattered through the provinces, saw a like fate staring 
 them in the face. Flight was the best resource, whether for 
 settlers or natives, who were in a position to escape from the 
 blighted land ; and an exodus of operatives, variously stated 
 from 20,000 to 60,000, forthwith began, depopulating districts 
 of the South and West, and inaugurating a migration from the 
 North which continued to flow to America all through the 
 eighteenth century. A number of the Protestant weavers went 
 to Germany, and, being received with open arms, settled in 
 States where their religion prevailed, and founded manufac- 
 tories for the celebrated Saxon cloths. Many of the Catholic 
 artisans removed to the north of Spain, and began there a 
 manufactory highly prejudicial to England. Multitudes, both 
 of Protestants and Catholics, were welcomed by the King of 
 France, who had lately established woollen manufactories in 
 Picardy and elsewhere. Louis settled the Irish refugees in 
 Rouen and other industrial centres, securing the Protestants 
 among them in the free exercise of their religion, and founding, 
 with the aid of this army of trained artisans, and the wool 
 which speedily followed them from Ireland, a trade which 
 England, from that day up to the present hour, has never ceased 
 to suffer from. America was the refuge of the ruined Presby- 
 terians of Ulster. They deported themselves in thousands, and 
 
 Manufactures of this Kingdom, by the more effectual preventing the un- 
 lawful exportations of the Woollen Manufactures of the Kingdom of 
 Ireland to foreign parts," empowered the Admiralty to increase the 
 effectiveness of the fleet of armed cruisers hanging about the coasts of 
 Great Britain and Ireland. Comprehensive as the above list of pro- 
 hibited articles may seem to be, it did not embrace all the fabrics of the 
 Irish woollen manufacture. Wadding, for instance, and one or two other 
 articles excepted out of the loth and nth of William in., were afterwards 
 specially prohibited in the reign of George n. For some time it was the 
 custom to allow each sailor to take with him from Ireland, woollen stuffs 
 to the value of forty shillings, while each officer might take five pounds 
 worth of cloth ; but this privilege was subsequently withdrawn.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 503 
 
 founded settlements in the New World which they called after 
 their old homes. There, in a new Deny, in another Donegal, 
 in a transatlantic Coleraine and Tyrone, grew up a generation 
 nurtured on memories of a cruel wrong a generation of 
 ready-made rebels, who flocked on the first signal to the 
 standard of revolution, and became the backbone of the 
 insurgent army. 1 
 
 However, all could not depart. A dispirited, disorganised, 
 pauperised mass remained, to rear an idle, turbulent progeny : 
 the curse of the towns and cities of the old land. Aghast at 
 the spectacle of desolation which met their gaze on every side, 
 the Irish Parliament now addressed the throne with a view " to 
 give a true state of our most deplorable condition," and solicit 
 some redress. Their deliberations were but a wail over the 
 decay of trade, the forced emigration, the extreme want and 
 beggary to which poor tradesmen were reduced. But they had 
 themselves prepared the way for the overthrow of the trade, 
 and their Judas repentance was all too late. What was all this 
 to Queen Anne ? 
 
 If all documentary record of this sad time were lost, we still 
 should have in Swift's inimitable pages the situation pictured 
 for us of a country where " one part of the people are forced 
 away, and the other part have nothing to do." Says the dean 
 in one of his sermons : " It is a very melancholy reflection that 
 such a country as ours, which is capable of producing all things 
 necessary, and most things convenient, for life, sufficient for the 
 support of four times the number of its inhabitants, should yet 
 lie under the heaviest load of misery and want, our streets 
 crowded with beggars, so many of our lower sorts of tradesmen, 
 labourers, and artificers not able to find clothes and food for 
 their families." On another occasion he says, it is manifest 
 that " whatever circumstances can possibly contribute to make 
 a country poor and despicable are all united with respect to 
 Ireland." First among the causes of the general misery, he 
 places " the intolerable hardships we lie under in every branch 
 of our trade, by which we are become hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water to our rigorous neighbours." He dwells on 
 the growing poverty of the nation, on the injustice of refusing 
 
 1 Dobbs, Essay on the Trade and Improvements of Ireland (1729); 
 D'Arcy M'Gee, History of the Irish Settlers in America (1851) ; and other 
 authorities.
 
 504 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 a people the liberty, not only of trading with their own manu- 
 factures, but even their native commodities : " Ireland is the 
 only kingdom I ever heard or read of, either in ancient or 
 modern story, which was denied the liberty of exporting their 
 native commodities and manufactures wherever they pleased, 
 except to countries at war with their own prince or state ; yet 
 this privilege, by the superiority of mere power, is refused to us 
 in the most momentous parts of commerce." Similarly, when 
 considering the causes of a kingdom thriving, this practical 
 patriot places in the foremost rank, trade and -industry, and a 
 disposition to value and encourage home productions. The 
 first cause, he says, of a kingdom thriving is, "the fruitfulness 
 of the soil to produce the necessaries and conveniences of life 
 not only sufficient for the inhabitants, but for exportation into 
 other countries." The second is, "The industry of the people 
 in working up all their native commodities to the last degree of 
 manufacture." And another is set down as, "A disposition of 
 the people of a country to wear their own manufactures, and 
 import as few incitements to luxury, either in cloths, furniture, 
 food, or drink, as they possibly can live conveniently without." 1 
 Sage advices, not a few, has the dean to give to the people 
 in reference to their conduct in this season of calamity and 
 distress. They should renounce all foreign dress and luxury : 
 those detestable extravagances of Flanders' lace, English cloths 
 made of our own wool, etc., which are not fit for people in 
 such circumstances any more than for the beggar who could 
 not eat his veal without oranges. The women should be clad 
 in the growth of their own country; should be satisfied with 
 Irish stuffs for the furniture of their houses, for gowns and 
 petticoats to themselves and daughters ; and if they are not 
 content to go in their own country shifts, may they go in rags : 
 the clergy should wear habiliments of Irish drapery, and the 
 weavers should contrive decent stuffs and silks for this demand 
 at reasonable rates. The lawyers, the gentlemen of the Uni- 
 versity, the citizens of those corporations who appear in gowns 
 on solemn occasions, should use the fabrics suitable to their 
 wants which the native manufacturers produced. It were to 
 be wished that the sense of both Houses of Parliament, at least 
 of the House of Commons, were declared by some unanimous 
 
 1 Sermon iv. ; " Letter to the Earl of Peterborough " ; "A Short View 
 of the State of Ireland."
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 505 
 
 and hearty votes against wearing any silk or woollen manufacture 
 imported from abroad : every senator, noble or plebeian, giving 
 his honour that neither himself nor any of his family would, 
 in their dress or furniture of their houses, make use of anything 
 except what was of the growth and manufacture of this kingdom; 
 and that they would use the utmost of their power, influence, 
 and credit to prevail on their tenants, dependants, and friends 
 to follow their example. Anyhow, " let a firm resolution be 
 taken, by male and female, never to appear with one single 
 shred that comes from England ; and let all the people say, 
 Amen" As for the weavers and traders, they should improve 
 the cloths and stuffs of the nation into all possible degrees of 
 fineness and colours, and engage not to play the knave, 
 according to their custom, by exacting and imposing upon 
 the nobility and gentry, either as to the prices or the 
 goodness. 1 
 
 Anonymously, in 1720, Swift entered into the strife of Irish 
 politics, armed with his famous tract, " A Proposal for the 
 Universal Use of Irish Manufacture, in Cloaths and Furniture 
 of Houses, etc., utterly rejecting and renouncing anything 
 wearable that comes from England." To this day the pro- 
 duction is read with delight as an example of the master's 
 trenchant style. But the fierce satire of the literary com- 
 position is, in the apprehension of nineteenth-century readers, 
 cast into the shade by the grim irony of the incidents 
 which its publication gave rise to. When, as Swift himself 
 afterwards related, a discourse was published endeavouring to 
 persuade our people to wear their own woollen manufactures, 
 full of the most dutiful expressions to the sovereign, and with- 
 out the least party hint, it was termed flying in the king's face. 
 The Government considered the proposal as a sort of leze- 
 majesty, and the printer, Waters, was seized and forced to give 
 great bail. Nine times the jury who tried the case were put 
 back, until they were under the necessity of leaving the 
 prisoner to the mercy of the court, by a special verdict ; the 
 judge on the bench invoking God for his witness when he 
 
 1 "Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manufactures"; "The 
 Drapier's Letters"; "Answer to Letters of Unknown Persons"; "A 
 Letter to the Archbishop of Dublin concerning the Weavers"; "A 
 Proposal that all the Ladies and Women of Ireland -should appear con- 
 stantly in Irish Manufactures."
 
 506 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 asserted that the author's design was to bring in the Pretender ! 
 The cause, continues Swift, was so odious and unpopular, the 
 trial of the verdict was deferred from one term to another, 
 until, upon the Duke of Grafton's the Lord - Lieutenant 
 arrival, His Grace, after mature advice and permission from 
 England, was pleased to grant a nolli prosequil " In the midst 
 of this prosecution, about 1500 weavers were forced to beg their 
 bread, and had a general contribution made for their relief, 
 which just served to make them drunk for a week; and they 
 were forced to turn rogues, or strolling beggars, or to leave the 
 kingdom." 2 About four years later the Lord-Lieutenant and 
 Council issued a proclamation offering three hundred pounds 
 for the discovery of the author of the " Drapier's Letters." 
 Harding, the printer of these obnoxious productions, was 
 tried before the Chief Justice ; but the jury would not find the 
 bill, nor would any person discover the author. Again, when 
 a London journalist reprinted A Short View of the State of 
 Ireland, a lengthened prosecution of the printers was the con- 
 sequence. Swift, referring to the vexations the printers had to 
 undergo, takes occasion, in his characteristic way, to show how 
 dangerous it is for the best-meaning person to write one syllable 
 in defence of his country, or discover the miserable condition 
 it is in. So much is this the case, continues he, that, " although 
 I am often without money in my pocket, I dare not own it in 
 some company, for fear of being thought disaffected." 
 
 By no means was it all talk with the Dean of St. Patrick's. 
 He expended both time and money in visiting and assisting 
 distressed artisans, without any distinction of creed. Five 
 hundred pounds a year it was his wont to lend out in small 
 portions, without interest, to necessitous but honest and diligent 
 tradesmen ; and at one time he had the gratification of believ- 
 ing that he had recovered two hundred families in the city from 
 ruin. Frugality for the sake of others he knew how to practise. 
 He would often walk rather than ride, and then would say he had 
 earned a shilling or eighteenpence, which he had a right to do 
 what he pleased with, and could expend on his favourite charities. 
 The weavers considered him their special patron and legislator, 
 and frequently came in a body to receive his advice in settling 
 
 1 Letter from Swift to Pope. " Drapier's Letters." 
 
 2 "Proposal that the Ladies and Women of Ireland should appear 
 constantly in Irish Manufactures."
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 507 
 
 the rates of their stuffs and the wages of their journeymen. In 
 every sense they were his neighbours ; for the industrial popula- 
 tion of Dublin were massed round St. Patrick's Cathedral, and 
 still inhabited the Coombe, Spitalfields, Weavers' Square, New 
 Street, and other localities which had been flourishing centres 
 before the suppression of the woollen trade. A notable part of 
 the population were of Huguenot origin, and places of worship, 
 with a French service, had been provided for them. One of 
 these was in Peter Street, and another was under the roof of 
 St. Patrick's, the ancient Lady Chapel of the Cathedral being, 
 in fact, at that time and for long after, the French church of 
 the locality. It was Swift's habit to attend the afternoon 
 service here every Sunday. 1 Stella, who "loved Ireland much 
 better than the generality of those who owe both their birth 
 and riches to it, and detested the tyranny and injustice of 
 England in the treatment of this kingdom," also showed a 
 good example of liberality and judgment in disbursing charity, 
 and of simplicity in her habits and attire. The same pen that 
 so well knew how to lash and scathe has traced with tender 
 care such little traits of one who, "with all the softness of 
 temper that became a lady, had yet the personal courage of a 
 hero," as that she " bought cloaths as seldom as possible, and 
 those as plain and cheap as consisted with the situation she was 
 in, and wore no lace for many years." 
 
 Swift's description of the condition of the people brings us 
 on to about thirty years from the date of the suppression of the 
 woollen trade. Another term of thirty years passes by, and it 
 appears that things have not much improved in the interval. 
 Primate Stone, in 1758, describes the people as not either 
 regularly lodged, clothed, or fed : adding that " these things, 
 which in England are called necessaries of life are to us only 
 accidents, and we can, and in many places do, subsist without 
 them." 
 
 Again, proceeding down the stream of time some twenty 
 years further, we come on Hely Hutchinson's declaration that 
 " the present state of Ireland teems with every circumstance of 
 national poverty"; and find the discouragement of the woollen 
 manufactories, by the English Act of 1699, referred to as the 
 principal cause of the distress and poverty of the land. " A 
 country will sooner recover," says this writer, "from the 
 1 Life of Swift, in the edition of his works published by Faulkner.
 
 5o8 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 miseries and devastations occasioned by war, invasion, 
 rebellion, and massacre, than from laws restraining the 
 commerce, discouraging the manufactures, fettering the in- 
 dustry, and, above all, breaking the spirit of the people." l The 
 situation is summarised by the author of a prize essay already 
 quoted, who observes that " the history of no fruitful country, 
 enjoying peace, and not visited by pestilence and famine, 
 during eighty years, can produce so many instances of 
 wretchedness as appear in Ireland during a period of that 
 length which succeeded the proscription of her woollen 
 trade." 
 
 Meanwhile, it was not enough to inflict a fatal injury on a 
 nation's industry, but the ill-used people must likewise be 
 defamed. With writers of a certain class it became a habit to 
 attack the Irish for being slothful, lazy, idle, and indolent ; 
 for their thievish, lying, slavish disposition ; for their dirt, 
 their disorder, and their mendicancy. The causes of their 
 misfortunes were conveniently ignored, and poverty was attri- 
 buted to them as a chosen and cherished vice. Other 
 traducers, by a bold stroke, traced idleness, beggary, and the 
 rest to the religion of the bulk of the people. Lord Sheffield's 
 rejoinder to the accusation of idleness hits the mark in a few 
 short words : " The Irish people are not naturally lazy ; they 
 are, on the contrary, of an active nature, capable of the 
 greatest exertions, and of as good a disposition as any nation in 
 the same state of improvement ; but that men who have very 
 little to do should appear to do little is not strange." 2 Bishop 
 Berkeley seems to have been ignorant of the fundamental 
 cause of the Irishman's sloth and backward condition. But he 
 was too right-minded a man to be misled into supposing that 
 the Catholic religion was accountable for the evils complained 
 of. " Many suspect your religion," says his lordship, address- 
 ing the Roman Catholic clergy of Ireland, to be the cause of 
 that notorious idleness which prevails so generally among the 
 natives of this island, as if the Roman Catholic faith was 
 inconsistent with an honest diligence in a man's calling. But 
 whoever considers the great spirit of industry that reigns in 
 Flanders and France, and even beyond the Alps, must 
 
 1 The Commercial Restraints of Ireland (\11<$). 
 
 - Observations on the Maimfactures, Trade, and Present State of Ireland 
 (1785).
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS ' 509 
 
 acknowledge this to be a groundless suspicion. In Piedmont 
 and Genoa, in the Milanese and the Venetian State, and 
 indeed throughout all Lombardy, how well is the soil culti- 
 vated, and what manufactures of silk, velvet, paper, and other 
 commodities flourish ! The King of Sardinia will suffer no 
 idle hands in his territories, no beggar to live by the sweat of 
 another's brow ; it has even been made penal at Turin to 
 relieve a strolling beggar. To which I might add, that the 
 person whose authority will be of the greatest weight with you, 
 even the pope himself, is at this day endeavouring to put new 
 life into the trade and manufactures of his country. Though 
 I am in no secret of the Court of Rome, yet I will venture to 
 affirm that neither pope nor cardinals will be pleased to hear 
 that those of their communion are distinguished above all 
 others by sloth, dirt, and beggary : or be displeased at your 
 endeavouring to rescue them from the reproach of such an 
 infamous distinction." l 
 
 VII. 
 
 RETRIBUTION, in the meantime, was fast overtaking the 
 traders who had been envious of their neighbour's good. 
 They perceived, before long, that the result of their greed was 
 to " starve a friend and glut a foe." Out of the ruins of the 
 Irish trade rose, as already intimated, the great woollen manu- 
 factures of France, which, establishing a formidable rivalry 
 with England's staple of commerce, soon beat the island 
 factors out of the principal foreign markets, ultimately com- 
 manded a sale even on British ground, and now are actually 
 threatening the very existence of the West of England trade in 
 some of its important branches. The origin of the French 
 woollen trade may be told in a few words. 
 
 Colbert, Louis xiv.'s Minister of Finance, devoted very 
 serious attention, from 1661 to 1683,10 the task of developing 
 the industrial activity of the French nation. In his youth he 
 had served his apprenticeship to a woollen-draper, and the 
 encouragement of cloth manufactures became a special pursuit 
 when he found himself in a position to carry out his plans. 
 1 A Word to the Wise (1752).
 
 510 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 The king aided his minister right royally, and, under the 
 patronage of the State, the trade progressed. At this juncture 
 Ireland, by increased wool production, was trying to make up 
 the loss she had sustained through the stoppage of her cattle 
 exports to England. Wool was wanted by France, and the 
 Irish wool-growers, especially the Catholics, who knew the 
 Continent much better than they knew the neighbouring 
 island, took advantage of the opening thus presented, and 
 landed their wool-packs in the French ports. Probably, how- 
 ever, the continental clothiers had but an imperfect apprecia- 
 tion of Ireland's resources in this particular until the soldiers 
 of their nation, coming over to fight for James n., in the 
 Revolutionary War, beheld the vast pastoral plains of the island, 
 saw the peasantry destroying the sheep that had usurped the 
 place of the agriculturist on the soil, and learned how 
 inexhaustible must be the wool-supply of such a land. Wiser 
 than their Irish allies, the French gathered up the fleeces of 
 the slaughtered sheep, collected an immense quantity of 
 woollen yarn, and, on their departure from Ireland, carried off 
 so much material as sufficed, in the parlance of that age, to 
 put their manufacturers upon a clothing trade for Turkey. 
 Quickly on this followed the flight of the Irish weavers, and 
 their settlement in the manufacturing towns of northern 
 France. About the same time, on the disbanding of the army 
 after the conclusion of the Treaty of Ryswick, a number of 
 soldiers, who had been originally weavers, returned to their 
 trade. These men were instructed according to improved 
 methods, and, together with the Irish contingent, notably 
 increased the strength of the industrial forces. Irish wool now 
 became an absolute necessity for the French manufactures, 
 one pack of that staple being required to work up every two 
 packs of the material elsewhere procured. France was deter- 
 mined to obtain wool from Ireland, and Ireland was equally 
 resolved that France should be supplied. Despite of armed 
 cruisers, despite of revenue-officers, in the teeth of penalties 
 and prohibitions, four-fifths of the Irish fleeces were carried 
 annually to France. 
 
 This clandestine export was effected in various ways, accord- 
 ing to circumstances. During the first years a great quantity 
 of raw wool was transported to the coasts of Clare and 
 Galway, and shipped in the French vessels which came to take
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 511 
 
 off the recruits for the Irish Brigades. It is said that this 
 intimate association of " Wild Geese " and wool had its 
 origin in the fact that Captain Teigue M'Namara, an officer in 
 the Irish Brigade, a native of Clare, and possessor of a large 
 property in that county, took advantage of the opportunity he 
 enjoyed as conductor of the recruiting expeditions to smuggle 
 wool into the French ports, thus serving "the foes of Ireland's 
 foe" in a twofold way, and benefiting the home interests not a 
 little. 1 Later on, the shores of Kerry and West Cork became 
 the scene of wool smuggling, conducted with the aid of priva- 
 teers and fishing fleets. There were times when the smugglers' 
 audacity knew no restraint, and the wool was carried openly 
 to Cork city, and shipped in sight of the soldiers who were 
 sent to prevent the transaction. 2 Early, however, in the 
 traffic, a less clumsy method of transporting the material was 
 devised and adapted in some of the principal ports. The 
 wool was combed, screwed into butter firkins or beef barrels, 
 covered with a layer of meat or grease, and, judiciously 
 weighted with shot, passed through the custom-house as 
 provisions. Quite early in the century, merchants of Water- 
 ford, Wexford, and Youghal brought their ships into Rochelle, 
 Nantes, St. Malo, and Bordeaux, and made their sales in the 
 open market, to the amazement of any English traders, 
 travellers, or prisoners of war who might happen to be on the 
 spot. So great was the demand for wool in France, that at 
 certain times the Irish merchants found it worth their while to 
 take their cargo of raw wool into the English ports and sell it 
 there, notwithstanding the heavy duties, to factors who 
 conveyed it to Kent and Sussex, whence the owlers of those 
 parts smuggled it, together with fine English wool, to the 
 opposite shores. 3 
 
 1 See a paper by the Very Rev. Dean Kenny, entitled "History of 
 Drunkenness in Ireland," which appeared in the Illustrated Monitor, 
 when that now extinct publication was conducted by the late Father 
 Robert Kelly, S.J. 
 
 2 See Tour through Ireland of tivo English Gentlemen (1746). 
 
 3 In the appendix to Smiles' Huguenots, there is an interesting account 
 of the owlers of Romney Marsh, and of the way in which the woolmen 
 managed their business. Dr. Johnson thinks that the word owler, 
 applied to one who carries out wool illicitly, may perhaps come from the 
 necessity of carrying on a clandestine trade by night ; but he rather believes 
 that it is a corruption of -wooler, by a colloquial neglect of the w, such as 
 is often observed in woman, and other words, u'ooller, oolers, owlers.
 
 512 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 Thus, fed by English owlers and Irish smugglers, the French 
 factories worked at high pressure. Abbeville, Amiens, Beau- 
 vais, became centres of the cloth trade, and Rouen gloried in 
 possessing the first woollen manufactory in the world. In less 
 than thirty years from the day when the French soldiers 
 carried home their load of Irish fleeces, and the ruined 
 weavers of the island sought refuge in the dominions of Louis 
 the Great, the woollen manufactures of France were brought 
 to such perfection that the English clothiers could not dis- 
 cover any difference between the foreign fabrics and their own 
 fine cloths. The French had not only ceased to take English 
 woollen goods, but had supplanted the once dominant traders 
 in the most important foreign markets. They had engrossed 
 the Turkey trade which England once enjoyed, and were 
 supplying Italy, Spain, Portugal, and even Barbary, with sayes, 
 serges, druggets, and other stuffs, which formerly had been 
 classed as English. 1 
 
 It may not be improper to mention here that three important 
 discoveries (but all, alas ! too late) were made in the course of 
 the last century by English traders and politicians. 
 
 First, it was discovered that a serious mistake had been 
 made in interfering with the Irish cattle trade : " Concerning 
 these laws for prohibiting the importation of Irish cattle, 
 many people think them in general to be hurtful ; and that it 
 would be wiser to suffer the Irish to be employed in breeding 
 and fattening their black cattle for us than to turn their lands 
 into sheep-walks, as at present, in consequence of which they 
 are enabled, in spite of all our laws to the contrary, to supply 
 foreign nations with their wools, to our great detriment." 2 
 
 Secondly, it was discovered that it would have been better 
 for the British Empire if the Irish had been allowed an open 
 trade in their wool. " Experience has taught us," says a writer 
 in the Daily Post (1740), "that the more the Irish are crampt 
 in that article (the wool trade), the more it redounds to the 
 advantage of the French, our most formidable and inveterate 
 enemies. By the folly, not to say the injustice, of England, 
 France has rivalled us this many years, with a witness, in the 
 Spanish, Portugal, Italian, and Levant trades, besides the 
 
 1 Prior, Observations on the Trade of Ireland. Second edition (1729). 
 Memoirs of Wool> vol. ii. 
 
 2 Annals of Commerce, vol. ii.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 513 
 
 great vent she finds for woollen goods in the Austrian Nether- 
 lands and some parts of Germany : this prodigious increase of 
 trade has raised her to such a pitch of grandeur that she is 
 become more terrible than ever to her neighbours." The 
 same writer goes on to ask, whether it would not be more 
 eligible "to let the Irish share with us in the woollen trade, 
 nay, to throw even all our trade into their hands, than to 
 raise up France upon the ruins of the whole British Empire"? 
 
 Thirdly, it was discovered, and in the British Parliiment 
 acknowledged, that truer statesmanship it would have been to 
 leave all the " Papists " in possession of their estates in Ireland 
 than to force them by penal statutes to emigrate to America, 
 where they or their sons were at that very time fighting with 
 the desperation of injured men in the rebel ranks. 
 
 Naturally, a question arises as to how it was that the strength 
 of England was not adequately exerted in putting a stop to the 
 transmission of the supplies from Ireland which kept the 
 French factories working at a rate so injurious to rival estab- 
 lishments. The answer is, that British strength was indeed 
 put forth, but could effect little against a nation obstinately 
 bent on resistance and evasion. A code of laws and a fleet 
 of cruisers gained little in a contest with "a nation of 
 smugglers." "When Ireland was restrained from exporting 
 her woollen manufactures," writes Sir James Caldwell, " the ex- 
 portation of raw wool became the business not of the few, but 
 of the many : it was no man's interest merely as a native of 
 Ireland to prevent it ; it was, therefore, not only connived at 
 but encouraged ; and those who did not unlawfully export 
 raw wool for a pecuniary advantage to themselves were well 
 pleased to see it done by others, from a principle of resent- 
 ment and indignation against those who had subjected them 
 to what they could not but consider as a cruel and oppressive 
 law, which had not only impoverished many individuals whose 
 wealth was a common benefit, but cut off bread from the 
 mouths of innumerable industrious poor, and consequently 
 produced national impotence and poverty." "And," adds Sir 
 James, it is both cruel and vain " to expect that the people of 
 Ireland will not smuggle wool, because it is forbidden by those 
 who have already forbidden them to eat." : 
 
 1 An Injuiry Concerning the Restrictions laid on the Trade of Ireland 
 (1766). 
 
 33
 
 5 i 4 IRISH Jl'OOL AXD WOOLLENS 
 
 Substantially similar is the view taken of the smuggling 
 question by the author of The English in Ireland. As this 
 lively writer brings the picturesque side of the situation into 
 higher relief than does Sir James Caldwell, I take leave to 
 brighten these pages by introducing a sketch from the work 
 just named. "The entire nation, high and low," says Mr. 
 Froude, " was enlisted in an organised confederacy against the 
 law. Distinctions of creed were obliterated, and resistance to 
 law became a bond of union between Catholic and Protestant, 
 Irish Celt and English colonist, from the great landlord 
 whose sheep roamed in thousands over the Cork mountains to 
 the gauger who, with conveniently blinded eyes, passed the 
 wool-packs through the custom-house as butter-barrels ; from 
 the magistrate whose cellars were filled with claret on the 
 return voyage of the smuggling craft, to the judge on the 
 bench who dismissed as frivolous and vexatious the various 
 cases which came before the court to be tried. All persons 
 of all ranks in Ireland were principals or accomplices in a 
 pursuit which made it a school of anarchy; and good servants 
 of the State, who believed that laws were made to be obeyed, 
 lay under the ban of opinion as public enemies. . . . Govern- 
 ment tried stricter methods, substituted English for Irish 
 officers at the chief ports like Waterford and Cork, and 
 stationed cruisers along the coast to seal the mouths of the 
 smaller harbours. But the trade only took refuge in bays and 
 creeks where cruisers dared not run in. If encountered at 
 sea, the contraband vessels were sometimes armed so heavily 
 that the Government cutters and schooners hesitated to 
 meddle with them. If unarmed and overhauled, they were 
 found apparently laden with some innocent cargo of salt pro- 
 visions. . . . Driven from Cork warehouses, the packs were 
 stored in caves about the islands, and cliffs, and crags, where 
 small vessels took them off at leisure, or French traders, on 
 signal from shore, sent in their boats for -them. Chests of 
 bullion were kept by the merchants at Rochelle and Brest to 
 pay for them as they were landed. When the French Govern- 
 ment forbade the export of so much specie, claret, brandy, 
 and silks were shipped for Ireland in exchange on board the 
 vessels which had brought the wool." 
 
 For some of the above particulars Mr. Froude is indebted, 
 as he acknowledges, to a manuscript preserved in Dublin
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 515 
 
 Castle, bearing the date of 1 730. The price of fleece- wool in 
 Ireland at that time, according to the same document, was 
 fivepence a pound ; of combed wool, one shilling. In France, 
 Irish fleece-wool sold for two-and-sixpence a pound ; combed 
 wool, from four-and-sixpence to six shillings. 
 
 It is not easy to understand why the French, who were 
 ready to give such a high price for Irish wool, did not turn 
 their attention to the flocks of their own country. Arthur 
 Young described their sheep as wretchedly cared ; fed, or 
 rather starved, on straw during the winter, and lying on dung- 
 hills, so filthy was their stabling. The fleeces were poor and 
 of a bad quality, and three sheep were kept where there might 
 have been a hundred. France spends, says this observant 
 traveller, 27,000,000 livres a year on importing wool, every 
 pound of which might be produced in the country. Of course, 
 it was all the better for poor Ireland that France was so 
 negligent in this particular; for, says Swift, "Our beneficial 
 traffic of wool with France hath been our only support for 
 several years past, furnishing us all the little money we have to 
 pay our rents and go to market." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IF, in the interval between the Restoration and the Revolu- 
 tion, the conversion of Ireland into a vast sheep-walk was 
 condemned as discouraging agriculture and forcing human 
 beings to give place to wool-producing flocks, with much more 
 reason was the aggravation of that system during the greater 
 part of the eighteenth century regarded as a grievous injury to 
 the country at large. Unquestionably, the peasantry suffered 
 in the earlier period ; but, then, there was some compensation 
 to the general community in the lucrative employment of a 
 large body of artisans engaged in working up the wool into 
 cloths and stuffs for foreign markets. In the later and longer 
 period, though camlets and other woollen fabrics were clan- 
 destinely carried to Spain and Portugal, and serges were 
 smuggled into Scotland, and the people for the most part 
 " sheared their own wool and wore it," nevertheless no manu- 
 facture was carried on at all commensurate with the enormous
 
 5i6 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 production of raw material. In point of fact, there was no 
 adequate industrial compensation for the neglect of husbandry 
 and the low status of the agricultural classes. 
 
 Up to the middle of the eighteenth century the "pernicious 
 sheep-walks " formed the main feature, after the bogs, of the 
 Irish landscape. The counties of Tipperary, Limerick, and 
 Carlow were mainly given up to wool-growing. The baronies 
 of Corra and Terrera in Sligo, and a great part of Roscommon, 
 particularly that part between Athlone and Boyle (30 miles 
 long and 10 miles broad), were continued sheep-walks. There 
 were flock-masters in Connaught who had 20,000 sheep on 
 their farms. Patches of corn and potatoes appeared like a 
 trimming on the skirts of the pastoral plains, and amidst 
 these patches grovelled the wretchedly -housed peasants. 
 Arthur Young, who notes these particulars, observes that at 
 the period of his tour (177678) the population had greatly 
 increased, and was sensibly encroaching on the grazing lands. 
 Still, the sheep farms were seldom under 400 or 500 acres, and 
 rose to 3000 : about 6000 or 7000 being then the greatest 
 flock kept by one owner. 
 
 Among the four provinces, Connaught kept the pre-eminence 
 in wool-growing. The greatest quantity was produced in that 
 western region, the quality of the fleece being also superlatively 
 good. A wool fair was annually held at Ballinasloe, in the 
 month of July, and lasted for several weeks. On these occa- 
 sions, sales to the amount of ^200,000 were frequently 
 effected. 1 It does not appear that time was reckoned as a 
 very valuable commodity by the Connaught flock-masters and 
 their customers, for at this fair they were wont to spend a great 
 amount of it in bargaining. A later writer than Young says 
 that an improved method of transacting business had recently 
 been adopted by the Cork and Limerick buyers, who went to 
 the growers' houses, made such bargains as they could, and 
 paid in bills at various dates. Still the July fair held its 
 ground, and was conducted in accordance with traditional 
 modes. " It is," continues the author referred to, " perfectly 
 ridiculous to see sensible men walking about the streets of, 
 Ballinasloe, the buyers on one side and the sellers on the other, 
 for often six weeks and more. This had been carried so far 
 sometimes that the buyers have made parties to take a tour to 
 1 Tour in Ireland, vol. ii.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 517 
 
 Killarney or elsewhere for a fortnight or more, thinking to tire 
 the sellers into a bargain." 1 
 
 Most of the Connaught wool was conveyed to Minister. 
 Five hundred cars laden with wool might be seen at a time on 
 the road to Cork city, and in the county of Cork half the wool 
 of Ireland was combed. Clothiers established at Charleville, 
 Donnerail, Mitchelstown, Kanturk, Newmarket, and other place?, 
 bought up wool, got it combed in their own houses, gave it out 
 to be spun by the peasantry, and then sold it to the weavers, 
 or disposed of it to the French agents. All over the South, 
 weavers were at work, some living in cabins about the country, 
 and others inhabiting cottages, with small gardens, in the towns. 
 
 Everywhere throughout Ireland, except perhaps in some 
 parts of Ulster, the people prepared the raw material and made 
 their own clothing. In every cottage there was a spinning- 
 wheel, and at the door, in fine weather, sat mother or daughter 
 spinning and singing the while for music, which in those days 
 was generally an enlivener of most domestic and out-of-door 
 avocations, was invariably an accompaniment to wool-spinning. 
 Dr. Petrie, and other collectors of our national melodies, have 
 preserved many of these spinning tunes. It was an understood 
 thing that while the men supported the family by their labour 
 in the fields, the women, who in those days never engaged in 
 agricultural work, paid the rent by the profits of the distaff. 
 Wakefield remarks that the people display great ingenuity 
 in the manufacture of their cloth and stuffs. " Instead 
 of using oil in the weaving, as is the case in all woollen 
 manufactures, they extract in the summer-time the juice of the 
 fern root, which they find to answer the purpose ; and for 
 dyeing they employ the indigenous vegetable productions of 
 the country, such as twigs of the alder, walnut and oak leaves, 
 elder berries, etc." 2 By all accounts, an excessive quantity of 
 wool, far more than skilful artisans would approve, was used in 
 the domestic manufacture of friezes, linseys, stockings, and 
 petticoat stuffs. "The amount of the consumption of woollens 
 in Ireland," says Lord Sheffield, "we cannot know, but it is 
 very great, and perhaps no country whatever, in proportion to 
 the number of its inhabitants, consumes so much. The lower 
 orders are covered with the clumsiest woollen drapery, and 
 
 1 Button, Sun-ey of Clare (1808). 
 
 2 Ireland, Statistical and Political, vol. i. (1812).
 
 5i8 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 although the material may not be fine, there is abundance of 
 it. Besides coat and waistcoat, the lower classes wear a great- 
 coat both summer and winter, if it can possibly be got. Not 
 only their clothing, but their stockings, seem to contain a 
 double quantity of wool." The women, also, he observes, wear 
 the clumsiest woollens ; their petticoats, and their cloak, when 
 they have one, containing much wool. Whatever cloth and 
 stuff remained after the farmer's household was supplied, found 
 a sale at the different fairs. At Rathdrum, in the county of 
 Wicklow, a flannel fair was held on the first Monday of every 
 month, and the frieze fair of Kilkenny was celebrated. 
 
 Manufactories of superior cloths existed in the cities and 
 towns ; for although the production of first-class broadcloth for 
 exportation was checked by the prohibitory statutes, it received 
 encouragement in another direction. " When the Irish found 
 themselves prohibited by English laws from the exportation of 
 all woollen manufactures, they thought the grievance insupport- 
 able, and to alleviate it applied all their wit and industry to two 
 purposes : first, to export as much manufactured wool to France 
 as possible ; and, secondly, to make fine cloths for their own 
 consumption. These were deep wounds to the English woollen 
 trade : the one giving our inveterate enemies a rivalship in that 
 business, and the other taking from the English a great part 
 of the Irish trade for fine cloths which they enjoyed before." 1 
 
 Thus stimulated to exertion, the Irish clothiers succeeded in 
 making a serviceable and sufficiently fine quality of cloth for 
 the use of the easier classes. The Spanish wool required for 
 mixing with the Irish was procured, strangely enough, through 
 London ; as indeed was also, at least at one time, the supply of 
 that staple which the French manufacturers had need of. 
 Swift evidently thought that in his day Irish gentlemen had no 
 reason to consider themselves unsuitably garbed in native 
 manufacture, and he did his best, as we know, to bring the 
 fashion of English broadcloth into discredit. Fashion, how- 
 ever, reasserted its mischievous influence as time went on ; and 
 Dr. Campbell had reason to complain of the coxcombs of his 
 day for their ignorant contempt of homespun garments, and 
 their affectation in pretending that woollens of the country 
 were not good enough for their own wear. The Irish, he says, 
 are " very culpable in this affair, but the fault falls not upon 
 1 Harris, Life of William III.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 519 
 
 the manufacturer, but upon the consumer. The woollen 
 manufacture, in despite of all efforts to annihilate it, has 
 flourished in the city of Dublin, while it has languished every- 
 where else. But, as if the natives wished to conspire with 
 other agents in banishing it hence also, they scorn to wear a 
 homespun coat. Even an attorney's clerk must be dressed in 
 English cloth ; and such is the contempt of Irish woollens in 
 Ireland, that it is common with the drapers to sell for English 
 those which are really Irish." l 
 
 Thus, the growing, preparing, and smuggling of wool filled 
 up a considerable space in the life of the Irish people during 
 the best part of the eighteenth century ; and the manufacture 
 of cloths and stuffs, principally for home consumption, gave 
 employment to a multitude of hands. And yet the woollen 
 manufacture, though respectable, was immeasurably below the 
 standard it would have reached if a free export had been 
 allowed. " Home consumption," says the writer just quoted, 
 "is not sufficient stimulus. The genius of trade sickens at the 
 very thoughts of restriction, and it dies upon actual restraint." 
 As for the clandestine trade, though a great number derived 
 advantage from it, its drawbacks were neither few nor trifling, and 
 its benefits were in some respects illusory. Precarious, hazar- 
 dous, demoralising, it was, as a system, the very opposite of 
 steady, open, legitimate trading. There was all the difference in 
 the world between the constitution of a great commercial com- 
 munity and the enlistment of a host of trading adventurers. Sir 
 James Caldwell, an excellent authority, points out at some length 
 the evils that wool smuggling brought on the country, and says 
 in conclusion : " It deprives the poor of employment, dis- 
 courages industry, promotes idleness and debauchery, disposes 
 the common people to insult Government, sows the seeds of 
 rebellion, and quenches humanity, by making violence, and in 
 some cases murder, necessary to self-defence." 2 
 
 Although France was ready to pay a high price, and at times 
 any price, for Irish wool, the mode in which the payments were 
 made increased the general disruption of sobriety and order. 
 As already observed, the French Government objected to so 
 great an amount of specie leaving the kingdom as had been 
 
 1 A Philosophical Sun<ey of the South of Ireland (1777). 
 
 2 An Inquiry concerning the Restrictions laid on the Trade of Ireland 
 (1766).
 
 520 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 transmitted to Ireland during the first years of the contraband 
 traffic. Cash remittances were therefore discontinued, and an 
 exchange of commodities substituted. Ireland was conse- 
 quently deluged with wine and brandy, glutted with silks, laces, 
 and suchlike commodities, and entangled more than ever 
 in an illicit traffic, by the necessity of smuggling in French 
 luxuries as well as running out native wool. A superabundance 
 of good wine did not foster habits of temperance, and strangers 
 remarked that the produce of excellent foreign vintages could 
 be got in places where common Irish bread was not to be had. 
 Luxurious and copious drinking on the part of the men was 
 emulated by extravagant dressing on the part of the women. 
 French finery suited ill with poverty-stricken surroundings, and 
 only helped to render more remarkable the general disarray. 
 Curious notions of Irish customs in the matter of drinking and 
 dressing are to be found in the Querist. Dr. Berkeley asks, 
 " Whether any kingdom in Europe be so good a customer at 
 Bordeaux as Ireland?" "How many gentlemen are there 
 in England of ^1000 per annum who never drink wine in 
 their own houses ? Whether the same may be said of any in 
 Ireland, who have even ^100 per annum?" The lady's lace is 
 a match for the squire's bottle, and the Querist wants to know, 
 " Whether it be not a notorious truth that our Irish ladies are 
 on a foot, as to dress, with those of five times their fortune in 
 England ? Whether it be not even certain that the matrons of 
 this forlorn country send out a greater portion of its wealth for 
 fine apparel than any other females on the whole surface of 
 this terraqueous, globe ? " x 
 
 A considerable quantity of French silk was used, in the early 
 part of the last century, at funerals in Ireland. The scarfs 
 worn by the mourners were made of lustring (commonly pro- 
 nounced lutestring), and it was computed that between ^i 1,000 
 and ;i 2,000 were annually expended in the purchase of this 
 smuggled article. However, after some time the Cambric 
 Company of Belfast proposed, in the interest of Irish manu- 
 facturers, that linen should be used instead of silk at funerals. 
 This mode having been adopted at the funeral of " a late 
 great man of the first distinction," a statistician of the day 
 remarked that " it was well judged to bury him in character 
 as a friend to his country and a benefactor to multi- 
 1 The Querist was first published in 1735.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 521 
 
 tudes." l Another authority of the same date remarks that, 
 whereas silk scarfs were of little utility except for the one occa- 
 sion, linen scarfs might be applied to many other uses. They 
 could be made of all prices, from one shilling to eight shillings 
 a yard, answerable to the quality or fortune of the deceased. 
 Eventually the Ulster manufacture gained the day, and it 
 became the fashion to honour the dead and serve honest trade 
 at the same time by the display of a profusion of white linen 
 at Irish funerals. 
 
 I daresay it would be interesting, while following the rami- 
 fications of illicit trading in Ireland, to notice instances of com- 
 plicity in the traffic on the part of the gentry whose property- 
 touched on the seaboard. Those who are curious in the 
 matter will find one notable instance of the association of a 
 contrabandist's pursuits with the avocations of a landed pro- 
 prietor in the early pages of Miss Cusack's Life of the Liberator. 
 
 Clearly, it was Bishop Berkeley's opinion that the Irish 
 people would have shown more wisdom if they had accommo- 
 dated themselves to circumstances, relinquished the desire of 
 a free trade in wool and woollens, and quietly directed their 
 commercial enthusiasm into other channels. He thought that 
 hankering after a foreign trade, and grieving over its loss, 
 enfeebled the national mind ; and he inquires " Whether it 
 would not be more prudent to strike out and exert ourselves 
 in permitted branches of trade than to fold our hands and 
 repine that we are not allowed the woollen?" and "Whether, 
 if there was a wall of brass a thousand cubits high round this 
 kingdom, our natives might not, nevertheless, live cleanly and 
 comforably, till the land, and reap the fruits of it ? " But it is 
 also plainly indicated in the Querist that the treatment which 
 the wool had received destroyed all feeling of security in other 
 trades, that the people could not get rid of the idea that indus- 
 tries of other kinds, even though they should be " with great 
 pains and expense thoroughly introduced and settled in the 
 land," might be at any moment similarly uprooted ; and that, 
 therefore, " they stuck to their wool." 
 
 Moreover, nearly every other Irish industry had its grievance 
 as well as the woollen trade. The Ulster linen manufacture 
 received many a stealthy thrust and many an open blow from 
 English jealousy, and was subject to disastrous fluctuations 
 
 1 Dobbs, An Essay on the Trade and Improvement of Ireland (1729).
 
 522 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 which kept the passenger traffic between the North of Ireland 
 and America busy for scores of years deporting weavers out of 
 work. In 1772, such was the state of affairs in Ulster that, as 
 reported to the Irish House of Commons, the best manufac- 
 turers and weavers, with their families, had gone to seek bread 
 in America, and thousands were preparing to follow. The Irish 
 glass manufacture was most injuriously treated. Disabling 
 duties were imposed on the Irish hempen manufacture, which 
 at one time had supplied the whole British navy with sailcloth. 
 Irish fishermen were not allowed to appear off Newfoundland, 
 and petitions were presented to Parliament by English fisher- 
 men praying that the Irish might be prevented catching herrings 
 on the coast of Waterford and Wexford. 
 
 In fact, the only extensive and, occasionally at least, unfet- 
 tered trade that Ireland enjoyed in those days was the export 
 of salted provisions, which began immediately after the prohi- 
 bition of the cattle trade with England. The French took 
 immense quantities, and it was believed that without the Irish 
 supplies they could hardly have victualled their ships. For a 
 number of years the French settlements in the West Indies 
 were provided from the same quarter. According to a con- 
 temporary foreign authority, a breast of Irish beef was the 
 greatest regale in those islands. 1 Besides beef, the French 
 took butter, tallow, and raw hides in great quantities. Prior, 
 in his Observations on the Trade of Ireland, gives an idea of 
 the extent of the foreign exports. " It appears," he says, " from 
 the quantity of our commodities exported to France, at a 
 medium yearly for seven years ending 1786, taken from the 
 custom-house books, that the French take from us, one year 
 with another, two parts in five of all our tallow, above one-third 
 of all our butter, a fourth part of all our raw hides, and above 
 one-third part of all our beef, which last commodity may other- 
 wise lie a drug upon our hands, since no other foreign nation has 
 occasion for the same, either for their own consumption or for 
 the use of their colonies." Later on, the British navy received 
 supplies of Irish beef; and in times nearer to our own, as, for 
 instance, during the Peninsular War, the British army was to 
 a great extent victualled from Ireland. 
 
 Vicissitudes, of course, tried this trade as well as others. 
 Although it did not excite national jealousy in any marked 
 
 1 See the treatises of Dobbs and Sir John Caldwell, already quoted.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 523 
 
 degree, it was victimised on occasions in the interest of the 
 English contractors. " Of all the restrictions," says Arthur 
 Young, " which England has at different times most impolitically 
 laid upon the trade of Ireland, there is none more obnoxious 
 than the embargoes on their provision trade. The prohibitions 
 of the export of woollens, and various other articles, have this 
 pretence at least in their favour, that they are advantageous to 
 similar manufactures in England ; and Ireland has long been 
 trained to the sacrifice of her national advantage as a dependent 
 country ; but in respect to embargoes, even this shallow pre- 
 tence is wanting, a whole kingdom is sacrificed and plundered, 
 not to enrich England, but three or four London contractors ! " 
 
 The operation of this system of embargoes may be inferred 
 from the account given by Mac Pherson of one of these trans- 
 actions, shortly told as follows : An embargo was laid, in 1776, 
 on the exportation of salted provisions from Ireland, in the 
 apprehension of the French furnishing themselves with a stock 
 of Irish provisions for victualling their fleets in the impending 
 war, and was still in force in 1779. The French suffered no 
 inconvenience, nor did the West India Islands, for the American 
 market was open to them. But to the Irish it was a grievous 
 and ruinous disappointment. "Their discontent was almost 
 converted into indignation by a belief, which prevailed very 
 generally among them, that the measure did not originate from 
 the professed motive, but from a design of giving enormous 
 lucrative contracts to ministerial favourites." So great was the 
 distress following this prohibition, that it was feared the country 
 would become depopulated unless the commercial grievances of 
 Ireland were speedily redressed. Multitudes went to America, 
 where their countrymen were fighting in the rebel ranks : 
 and the charity of the higher classes in Dublin was strained to 
 the extremest limit by the necessity of feeding daily 20,000 
 poor citizens ruined by the new prohibition." 1 
 
 Passing strange it is that the spirit of enterprise was not 
 wholly crushed by the discouragements and injuries inflicted 
 on the trade of Ireland during so long a period. Necessity 
 stimulated energy ; and it must be remembered that in trade 
 lay the one chance for the Catholic body to rise from the 
 degraded position it was held in by the penal code. Lord 
 Chesterfield, albeit disdaining to use the vulgar arts of persecu- 
 1 Annals of Commerce, vol. iii.
 
 524 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 tion, was far from desiring to see the Irish papists acquire power 
 of any kind. He had sagacity enough to perceive that a serious 
 pursuit of mercantile avocations would sooner or later enable 
 them to obtain position, wealth, influence. His policy, there- 
 fore, would have been to repeal the laws that forbade Catholics 
 to purchase estates, lure them thus from commercial enter- 
 prises, and then rely on the Gavel Act for breaking up, by 
 subdivision, the newly-acquired properties. Fortunately, Chester- 
 field's viceregal reign was too short to allow him an opportunity 
 of carrying out his subtle schemes. The temptation to exchange 
 the office of merchant for that of estated gentleman was not 
 just then set as a snare for ambitious Catholics. Traders of 
 that religion worked on in the industrial groove, and amassed 
 in many cases respectable fortunes. Their foreign relations 
 afforded them opportunities of educating their children. It 
 was the custom to send out Catholic youths as soi disant 
 apprentices on board of trading vessels ; and then, when they 
 had got some education in the colleges of France and Spain, 
 to smuggle them back into Ireland with the brandy and 
 Bordeaux. 
 
 IX. 
 
 BUT, to return to our sheep once more. All through those 
 years the Irish never reconciled themselves to the loss of the 
 legitimate wool trade. In vain they were told that it was 
 unbecoming and ungrateful on their part to refuse this little 
 compensation the wool monopoly to England, that great 
 nation which had been at such trouble and expense in quelling 
 the frequent rebellions of the Irish. 1 In vain they were invited 
 to acquiesce in the inevitable, and give up the wool. They 
 could not be made to recognise their obligations, and they 
 would not accept the inevitable. For eighty years they kept 
 on persistently not acquiescing, until in the end they paid off 
 
 1 " The monopoly of wool and woollen yam has been the greatest occa- 
 sion of complaint in Ireland, of hardship laid upon it by England's engros- 
 sing so valuable a branch of trade to itself. This the English claim to be 
 due to them upon account of the charges from time to time they ha\ e been 
 at in reducing the natives of Ireland, as also in restoring the British interest 
 when routed or disturbed by the frequent rebellions of the Irish." 
 Dobbs.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 525 
 
 old scores in quite another fashion, and made the inevitable 
 fly from before their face. 
 
 Several of the authorities we have quoted set the trade 
 question in a fair light from time to time, between 1728 and 
 1766. They showed that, in order to relieve the English 
 woollen trade, the Irish manufacturers should be allowed to 
 join in competing for the foreign market; they pointed out 
 how such branches as the Turkey business, for instance, might 
 well be carried on in Ireland, while the English weavers were 
 employed in producing finer fabrics ; and they ventured to 
 inquire how it was that England still continued to compliment 
 the French with a trade she denied to Ireland. Reiterated 
 observations of this kind produced some effect in the longrun. 
 Thinkers and legislators in this island began to understand 
 that something must be done to relieve the country from the 
 intolerable oppression that weighed it down ; and a vigorous 
 public opinion grew strong by degrees, and finally demanded 
 a hearing. Ireland, dreaming that the wool might yet be free, 
 was gradually preparing for a struggle : while England still 
 maintained an impassive front, determined not to read aright 
 the American lesson. A contest at close quarters was now 
 inevitable. It was not destined to be a long one. Let us 
 note the points of advance and retreat, observing the order of 
 events, and keeping close to our best authorities. 
 
 In 1770, as Mr. Lecky writes, the viceroy, Lord Townshend, 
 suggested the necessity of relaxing the commercial restrictions 
 under which Ireland laboured, and suggested that a coarse 
 kind of woollen cloth, which was made in Ireland but not in 
 Great Britain, might be sent without danger to the Spanish 
 and Portuguese markets. His efforts, however, were com- 
 pletely futile. In 1776 a few slight commercial concessions 
 were granted by England. Newfoundland and other fisheries 
 from which Irish fishermen had been excluded were thrown 
 open to them ; and the Irish were permitted to furnish the 
 clothing of their own troops when they were stationed out of 
 Ireland. 1 In 1778 the Prime Minister, Lord North, proposed 
 to relieve the commercial restraints of Ireland by allowing a 
 free and general exportation of all kinds of goods, except the 
 woollen manufacture, " that article being reckoned too sacred 
 to be yet meddled with." But so great was the commotion 
 1 The History of England in the Eighteenth Century, vol. iv.
 
 526 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 excited in the manufacturing towns of England that Lord North 
 had to reconsider his proposal. 
 
 "A general alarm," says Mac Pherson, "spread through 
 most of the trading and manufacturing parts of the kingdom." 
 They considered the " admittance of Ireland to any participation 
 in trade as not only destructive, in the most ruinous degree, 
 of their property, but as being equally subversive of their rights. 
 They were as little disposed to consent that the people of Ire- 
 land should cultivate their own manufactures, and dispose of 
 their native commodities at the proper foreign markets, as they 
 were to admit them to any limited degree of commercial par- 
 ticipation. In short, the alarm was universal, and took such 
 absolute possession of the public attention that, for a short 
 time, the American War and all its brooding events appear to 
 have been forgotten." The table of the House of Commons, 
 as we read in Plowden's Historical Review, was covered with 
 "petitions against any extension of commercial advantages to 
 Ireland by which the trade of England should be in any way 
 affected. Liverpool, Manchester, and Glasgow threatened to 
 be no longer loyal if these Bills should pass." The popular 
 passion triumphed for the moment. The British Parliament 
 yielded to the pressure from without, and only some slight 
 modifications of the commercial code were effected. 
 
 Ireland was now fast assuming a formidable attitude. Her 
 Parliament was determined to assert its rights ; and the volun- 
 teers were demanding free trade with arms in their hands. 
 
 In February 1779, "the Sheriffs of Dublin represented to 
 the Lord-Lieutenant that 19,000 persons connected with the 
 weaving trade in that city, besides many other poor, were on 
 the brink of starvation, and that nothing but an extension of 
 trade and a free export of manufactures could save them." 
 Two months later a meeting was held in Dublin, at which all 
 present pledged themselves " not directly or indirectly to pur- 
 chase any of the goods or manufactures of Great Britain that 
 could be manufactured at home. . . . Agreements to use only 
 domestic manufactures, and to abstain from purchasing English 
 goods till the commercial restrictions were removed, were now 
 entered into by the grand juries of many counties and by numer- 
 ous county meetings, and were signed in most of the great 
 towns." The viceroy, Lord Buckinghamshire, having requested 
 the leading Irishmen of the day to make him acquainted with
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 527 
 
 their opinions concerning the state of the country, Lord Lifford, 
 Sir Lucius O'Brien, Flood, Hussey Burgh, Foster, and Hely 
 Hutchinson stated their views in pamphlets and treatises all 
 agreeing that, unless the commercial restrictions were speedily 
 removed, Ireland could no longer pay her way. 1 
 
 Hely Hutchinson's Commercial Restrictions was by far the 
 most remarkable contribution presented to the Government 
 on this occasion. It was a piece of sound and creditable work. 
 Having done excellent service to Ireland in its day, it still 
 possesses a vivid interest and high value for the student of 
 history. Already the work has been several times quoted or 
 referred to in this paper, and it would naturally call for special 
 notice at this part of our story, only that its rare pages have 
 been just reprinted and reissued under singularly able editor- 
 ship. Henceforth it will be no longer out of the reach of 
 general readers. 2 
 
 Whether the eyes of Europe were on the Emerald Isle at 
 this juncture or whether they were not, certain it is that America 
 was not heedless of what was going on in the old land, and 
 equally certain that the consciousness of American sympathy 
 inspirited the patriots to a high pitch of courage and resolution. 
 Benjamin Franklin watched the progress of events with deep 
 interest. He had visited Ireland and formed friendships with 
 her sons, and he was well informed of her wants and her 
 wrongs. Writing to Sir Edward Newenham in this very year 
 (1779), he says: "I admire the spirit with which I see the 
 Irish are at length determined to claim some share of that 
 freedom of commerce which is the right of all mankind, but 
 which they have been so long deprived of by the abominable 
 selfishness of their fellow-subjects. To enjoy all the advantages 
 of the climate, soil, and situation in which God and nature have 
 placed us, is as clear a right as that of breathing, and can never 
 be justly taken from men but as a punishment for some atrc- 
 cious crime." 3 
 
 1 The. History of England in the Eighteenth Century, vol. iv. 
 
 - The full title of the reissue reads thus : The Commercial Restraints of 
 Ireland, considered in a Series of Letters to a Noble Lord, containing an 
 Historical Account of the Affairs of that Kingdom. Dublin, 1779. By John 
 Hely Hutchinson, Provost of Trinity College, etc. Re-edited, with a sketch 
 of the Author's Life, Introduction, Notes, and Index, by W.G. Carroll, M.A., 
 SS. Bride's and Michael le Pole's. Dublin, M. H. Gill & Son- (1882). 
 
 3 Life of Benjamin Franklin, vol. iii. (1833).
 
 5 28 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 Meanwhile the volunteers seconded their demand for free 
 trade by giving the best practical encouragement to the in- 
 dustries of the nation. They clothed their regiments and troops 
 in Irish manufacture, and the brilliant uniforms of the different 
 corps at their reviews and military gatherings throughout the 
 country showed what could be done by native artisans with 
 materials of home growth. They encouraged by their approval 
 and supported by their patronage every undertaking which had 
 for its object the extension of trade. Associations for the use 
 of Irish manufactures sprang up in every part of the country, 
 to the serious alarm of the English clothiers, who left nothing 
 undone to compel or induce the small traders throughout the 
 provinces to take their goods at reduced prices and on long 
 credit. " The volunteers and the leaders of the movement 
 were equally active on their side. The press, the pulpit, and 
 the ballroom were enlisted in the cause of native industry. 
 The scientific institutions circulated, gratuitously, tracts on the 
 improvement of manufacture, on the modes adopted in the 
 continental manufacturing districts, and on the economy of pro- 
 duction. Trade revived ; the manufacturers who had thronged 
 the city of Dublin, the ghastly apparitions of decayed industry, 
 found employment provided for them by the patriotism and 
 spirit of the country; the proscribed goods of England remained 
 unsold, or only sold under false colours by knavish and pro- 
 fligate retailers; the country enjoyed some of the fruits of free- 
 dom before she obtained freedom itself." 1 The volunteer 
 guns were made to express the national sentiment and advocate 
 the cause of Irish wool. Around the necks of the cannons 
 were hung labels with such inscriptions as, Free Trade or 
 This! Free Trade or speedy Revolution! Even the drums 
 lent their aid in intensifying patriotic ardour. With more 
 point, perhaps, than poetry, words had been fitted to a stir- 
 ring march-tune adopted by the regimental bands, and the 
 moment the roll of the drums was heard the popular memory 
 suggested the verses 
 
 '' Was she not a fool, 
 When she took off our wool, 
 To leave us so much of the 
 
 Leather, the leather? 
 
 1 MacNevin, The History of the Volunteers 0/1782.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 529 
 
 It ne'er entered her pate, 
 That a sheep-skin well beat, 
 Would draw a whole nation 
 
 Together, together." 
 
 In the month of October the Irish Parliament met, and un- 
 animously resolved to address the Throne, and represent to His 
 Majesty that it was not by temporary expedients, but by a free 
 trade alone, that Ireland could be saved from impending ruin. 
 The Speaker, accompanied by the patriot leaders, carried the 
 addresses of the Lords and Commons to the Castle, the streets 
 being lined with the Dublin Volunteers drawn up in arms, 
 under their commander, the Duke of Leinster, and thronged 
 with a rejoicing multitude. This action was followed by a pro- 
 posal to withhold the supplies, or to limit the duration of the 
 Money Bill, until free trade was yielded by England. During 
 the debate on this question, the Prime Serjeant, Hussey Burgh, 
 delivered the famous speech in which he declared that, if 
 Parliament were weak enough to grant supplies for two years, 
 it would thereby destroy the fair prospects of commercial hope, 
 and lead the British Minister to treat all applications for free 
 trade with contempt. " The usurped authority of a foreign 
 Parliament," continued the orator, " has kept up the most 
 wicked laws that a jealous, monopolising, ungrateful spirit 
 could devise to restrain the bounty of Providence, and enslave 
 a nation whose inhabitants are recorded to be a brave, loyal, 
 and generous people ; by the English code of laws, to answer 
 the most sordid views, they have been treated with a savage 
 cruelty ; the words penalty, punishment, and Ireland are 
 synonymous, they are marked in blood on the margin of their 
 statutes ; and thougli time may have softened the calamities of 
 the nation, the baneful and destructive influence of those laws 
 have borne her down to a state of Egyptian bondage. The 
 English have sowed their laws like serpents' teeth, and they 
 have sprung up as armed men." l 
 
 During the delivery of this speech, Hussey Burgh, in reply 
 to someone who had observed that Ireland was at peace, 
 thundered forth these words: "Talk not to me of peace. 
 Ireland is not at peace ; it is smothered war." Extraordinary 
 excitement was produced both within the House of Parliament 
 and outside its walls by the Prime Serjeant's courageous 
 
 1 History of the Volunteers. 
 34
 
 530 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 words. 1 He ceased to hold his office under the Crown ; but the 
 Money Bill was passed for six months only. By this time the 
 temper of the parent State had undergone some change. Mute 
 alarm had taken the place of outrageous clamour. The British 
 Parliament met in November, and the signal for a new de- 
 parture was immediately given. " Severe censures were thrown 
 out in both Houses upon the Ministry for endangering the loss 
 of Ireland, as they had already accomplished that of America, 
 by delaying to grant what it would be no longer in their power 
 to withhold, whereby they were now reduced to a necessity of 
 yielding, as a matter of right, much more than would have been 
 thankfully received as a favour if granted with a good grace at 
 a proper time. At last the Minister was roused to take up the 
 business in earnest." - 
 
 Let the sequel be told, even at the risk of some repetition of 
 statements, in the words, first, of a distinguished writer and 
 gifted Irishman of our own day ; and, secondly, of the greatest 
 man that this country has ever produced. 
 
 Mr. Lecky, in the course of his ably-condensed history of 
 this momentous year, thus writes : " Lord North, as we have 
 seen, had been already disposed to grant a very liberal measure 
 of commercial relief to Ireland, though he proposed to except 
 the capital article of the wool trade ; but he had been intimi- 
 dated by the clamour of the manufacturers of England. Now, 
 however, the danger was too extreme for further delay. The 
 fear of bankruptcy in Ireland, the non-importation agreements, 
 which were beginning to tell upon English industries, the 
 threatening aspect of an armed body which already counted 
 more than 40,000 men, the determined and unanimous attitude 
 of the Irish Parliament, the predictions of the Lord-Lieutenant 
 that all future military grants by Ireland depended upon this 
 course, the danger that England, in the midst of a dangerous 
 and disastrous war, should be left absolutely without a friend, 
 all weighed upon his mind ; and at the close of 1779, and in 
 the beginning of 1780, a series of measures were carried in 
 England which exceeded the utmost that a few years before 
 the most sanguine Irishman would have either expected or 
 demanded. The Acts which prohibited the Irish from export- 
 
 1 See Webb's Compendium of Irish Biography, Article, " Hussey 
 Burgh." 
 
 2 Annals of Commerce, vol. iii.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 531 
 
 ing their woollen manufactures and their glass were wholly 
 repealed, and the great trade of the colonies was freely thrown 
 open to them." l 
 
 Edmund Burke, speaking as a member of the British Parlia- 
 ment, conjures up a vision of the Irish people, resolute and 
 armed, demanding a free trade, and thus describes the result : 
 "They (the Irish) interdict all commerce between the two 
 nations. They deny all new supply in the House of 
 Commons, although in time of war. They stint the trust of 
 the old revenue, given for two years to all the king's prede- 
 cessors, to six months. The British Parliament, in a former 
 session frightened into a limited concession by the menaces 
 of Ireland, frightened out of it by the menaces of England, 
 was now frightened back again, and made an universal 
 surrender of all that had been thought the peculiar, reserved, 
 uncommunicable rights of England the exclusive com- 
 merce of America, of Africa, of the West Indies; all the 
 enumerations of the Acts of Navigation ; all the manufactures ; 
 iron, glass, even the last pledge of jealousy and pride, the 
 interest hid in the secret of our hearts, the inveterate prejudice 
 moulded into the constitution of our frame, even the sacred 
 fleece itself, all went together. No reserve ; no exception ; no 
 discussion. A sudden light broke in upon us all. It broke 
 in, not through well-contrived and well-disposed windows, but 
 through flaws and breaches ; through the yawning chasm of 
 our ruin. We were taught wisdom by humiliation. No town 
 in England presumed to have a prejudice, or dared to mutter* 
 a petition." 2 
 
 Good grace, it is pleasant to record, characterised the last 
 act of the drama. English traders, albeit sadly, maintained a 
 becoming silence. Lords and Commons for once displayed 
 unanimity in yielding to a just demand. The king exhibited a 
 royal graciousness in assenting to the measure which repealed 
 the prohibitory statutes of William in. Lord Hillsborough, in 
 a letter dated the 23rd December 1779, thus communicates 
 the tidings of the royal assent to William Sexton Pery, the 
 Speaker of the House of Commons, Ireland : 
 
 " The King is this moment returned from giving his Royal 
 Assent to the Irish Woollen Bill, and I take the liberty to 
 
 1 The History of England in the Eighteenth Century, vol. iv. 
 " Speech at Bristol previous to the Election (1780).
 
 532 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 
 
 enclose to you a printed copy of it thus early, that you may 
 not unnecessarily lose a moment of that pleasure which I 
 am sure it will give you. I most sincerely congratulate with 
 you upon this happy event for Ireland, as I flatter myself I 
 shall very soon after the recess have the pleasure of doing upon 
 the Export and Import Act to and from the Colonies, etc. It 
 is a very agreeable circumstance in the passing this Bill, that 
 there was not the least opposition in either House of Parlia- 
 ment, and that His Majesty, to whom a Commission was pro- 
 posed, was pleased to say he would go to the House in person 
 upon an occasion of so much importance to his faithful 
 kingdom of Ireland." 1 
 
 Signal as was this triumph in the repeal, after eighty years, 
 of the statutes which had ruined the woollen trade of Ireland, 
 the patriots were not so dazzled by success as to forget that the 
 victory had still to be secured. The cause might again be lost 
 unless the power of England to make laws for Ireland were 
 surrendered. Therefore, they pushed on to the attack of the 
 inner stronghold. In 1782, after a tyranny of nearly three 
 hundred years, Poynings' Act was annulled, and the com- 
 mercial freedom of Ireland established on a sound foundation. 
 
 It has been said that the freedom of trade, thus fought for 
 and obtained, did little more than put an end to smuggling. 
 Certain it is, however, that a great impetus was given to the 
 woollen industries in Ireland by the inspiriting effect of the 
 volunteer movement, and by the substantial encouragement 
 bestowed by the Irish Parliament on the premier trade. The 
 manufacturers met the demand for home production by in- 
 creased energy and improved skill, and many thousands of 
 hands were kept at work all over the country. Less wool was 
 exported than formerly, but a larger quantity of manufactured 
 goods was sent out. Despite of vicissitudes, occasioned by 
 war and other causes, the woollen trade prospered during the 
 twenty years that followed its liberation. 
 
 Then came the Union. It cannot be maintained that the 
 Act of Union inflicted any injury on the Irish woollen trade. 
 On the contrary, it removed disabilities which the repeal of 
 1779 had left in statu quo, and placed Ireland on an equal 
 footing with England in regard to the staple manufacture. 
 But what ensued ? There ensued, first a gradual and then an 
 1 Eighth Report of the Historical Manuscript Commission.
 
 IRISH WOOL AND WOOLLENS 533 
 
 accelerated decline in manufacturing industry throughout the 
 country. The woollen trade, always spoken of in the 
 eighteenth century as destroyed, was actually at that period in 
 a flourishing condition when compared with the state it was 
 reduced to in the nineteenth. 
 
 At the date of the Union there were, it is calculated, between 
 5000 and 6000 persons employed in Dublin and its vicinity in 
 the various branches of the woollen manufactory. In 1868 
 the number so employed in all Ireland amounted only to 1374, 
 according to a return in Thorn's Official Directory. To the 
 ruins of castles, abbeys, and lordly mansions that strewed the 
 land, were added, in this our century, the ruins of mills. In 
 almost every direction mouldering monuments and sad tradi- 
 tions survive to testify to the existence, up to a period not long 
 gone by, of a trade that, with all its limitations, deserved to be 
 called national. Completer ruin could hardly be imagined. 
 
 Here no attempt shall be made to inquire into the causes 
 of this calamity. It would be a tedious task, and certain to 
 lead to the most disheartening reflections. Fortunately at this 
 moment there are hopeful signs of a revival, on an extensive 
 scale, of woollen industries in Ireland. The Exhibition of 
 Manufactures, which has recently been opened in Dublin, 
 affords gratifying proofs of renewed activity in different parts 
 of the country ; helps to make more generally known the fact 
 that even during the worst days some relics of a manufacture 
 so ancient, so national, and so rich in interest, were preserved ; 
 and, furthermore, shows that in one branch of high-class 
 woollens, Ireland has, in our own day, bid for and obtained a 
 world-wide reputation for excellence. 
 
 The manufacturers who, at this juncture, endeavour to 
 restore the lost trade, undoubtedly merit the most liberal 
 encouragement; while those who represent establishments 
 dating their foundation from pre-Union days, assuredly deserve 
 not only this but the thanks of the nation. 
 
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