Our Irish Martyrs: Recent Episodes
Manus
Principally a reading of Damian Richardson's publication of Fr Dennis Murphy's collection of primary source accounts of the martyrdom of Ireland's Christian Martyrs.
(From Bruodin’s Propugnaculum, p. 698)
HE was a native of Ulster, a religious of the Order of St. Francis of the Strict Observance, and a very famous preacher. He was seized treacherously by a certain Forbes, a Scotchman by birth, a cruel and barbarous rebel, who had the command of six pirate vessels given him by the parliament. Three months after he was taken prisoner, he was hanged, through hatred of the faith, from the yard-arm of a ship in the middle of the river Shannon, where this pirate was lying in wait for plunder for many weeks. He died at the end of October, 1642.
(From the Barberini Archives, Rome.)
ON March 9th, 1642, the Most Rev. Dr. Comerford, Bishop of Waterford, wrote to a friend resident in Paris Last week, the President of Ulster, having received reinforcements, once more took the field, together with the Earl of Cork, the Earl of Barrymore, Lord Broghill, and Sir John Browne. Marching to Dungarvan and seizing on the Castle, they set fire to the town and put to death F. Edmund Hore and F. John Clancy, both priests, together with others of the principal citizens. They then sacked the place, and retired leaving a strong garrison in the Castle.’
(From O’DaIy’s Relatio, p. 335)
HE was Prior of Naas, and a famous preacher of the word of God.
He was executed by order of Charles Coote despite being under the protection of the Butler, earl of Ormonde. He was publicly offered his life and prestige if he would become protestant.
See also Bruodin.
(From De Burgo’s Hib. Dom., p. 561)
HE was a member of the Dublin Community. When the war was begun by the Catholics for their faith and country, he was seized by the heretics and cast into a prison, where he endured much from the hardships of the place and want of food. Yet no one made a charge against him, nay rather, many heretics by word of mouth and writing declared he was innocent of any crime. While in prison he made his confession three times to his prior, who by disguising himself contrived to obtain admittance to him. He declared publicly that he was innocent of any crime, and he openly professed his adhesion to the Catholic faith. His constancy in the midst of his sufferings, and the joy shown on his face, moved many of the heretics to tears ; others were still more maddened thereby, so that not only did they expose his dead body to insult, but they would not allow it to be buried within the city; and when it was passing outside the gate, they broke the skull with a blow of the butt of a gun. He was hanged on March 23rd, 1642.
The consequences for Irish Catholics of Cromwellian victory in the Confederate War of 1641 to 1652.
(From Alegamb’eS MorteS lllustreS, p. 538) JOHN MEAGH was a native of Cork, in the province of Munster. To remove him from the persecution of the heretics, he was taken by his father first to France, and then to Naples. After his father’s death, he entered the service of the Duke of Ossuna, the Viceroy. But disliking the frivolous amusements of the Court, he began to think of leaving it; and he would have done so if the Viceroy had not been recalled just then to Spain. ln this way John found the means of going there, and asking for some favour from the King. He was received in so kindly a way that he obtained very soon an annual pension; with this he returned to Naples. But mark by what wonderful ways God draws men to Him. The young man prayed to God to make known to him when he opened a book, the manner of life which he should enter on. He opened it, and found there the Life of St. Dympna, a maiden of royal birth, who fled from Ireland to avoid her father’s fury, and was afterwards slain by him. John thought the history of a woman unsuited to him for imitation, and was thinking of looking for some other; but in the mean time he went on reading it; again and again he deliberated about turning over the leaves, and searching for another, and yet he hesitated to turn them. ‘What if God wishes me to leave the world,’ said he, ‘and to flee from all occasions of sin, as that royal maiden did when she left her native country.’ Wherefore, he determined to enter the religious state without further delay ; and whilst he was yet hesitating somewhat, he was wrongfully accused of a grievous crime, and taken into custody. Seeing in the prison a statue of St. Ignatius, he consoled himself with the thought that he too, was thrown into prison though free from all guilt. Wherefore, he placed himself under this Saint’s protection, and asked his aid. Soon after he was released. This occurred during the year of the Jubilee. Through devotion he set off from Rome. On the way his leg was hurt somehow, and he was hospitably entertained by our Fathers, and nursed until he recovered. Full of gratitude for their kindness, and remembering that St. lgnatius too had broken his leg, he determined to enter the Society. He was ordained a priest, and set back to Naples with letters from the General to the Provincial. There he entered the noviciate, and having gone through it in a blameless manner, he was sent to Bohemia for a short time, in order to acquire some experience before he returned to Ireland to be employed in the saving of souls. His zeal and earnestness were specially remarked, his great piety while offering the sacrifice of the Mass, which was often witnessed by those who assisted thereat, and his great eagerness to divert the conversation to divine things. He was about to depart for Ireland, and he had prepared himself for the journey by make the spiritual exercises. Indeed, he had a sort of presentiment that he should be called onto offer up his life for the faith. John Pauer, who after the death of Gustavus Adolphus commanded the Swedish army that harassed Germany so long, made an incursion into Bohemia in 1639 and laid siege to Prague, its capital city. The Fathers who were then in the College of Cattemberg, terrified at the approach of such a powerful enemy, looked for some safe place where they might take refuge. The College of Neuhaus seemed better suited to their wants than any other place. Several were told to go there by different roads; these were best with robbers, whom the hardship of times or the hope of booty induced to arm themselves, to the ruin of travellers. Moreover, many of the people were still infected with wicked doctrine, and though it had been preached against some years before throughout the whole of Bohemia, yet the consequences of that evil teaching remained deeply fixed in the minds of many, and induced these rude men to assail those who strove to root out such principles by their preaching. Many of these were robbed and forced to fly. Three of them were slain, namely, John Meagh, Martin Ignatius, and Wenceslaus Trnoska. There are two reasons for asserting that they were put to death through hatred of the Catholic faith. One is the hatred which the heretics have for the very name of Jesuit, because they find them to be among the most active and zealous defenders and teachers of the faith. The second is, that they did no harm whatever to the other persons who were travelling with ours, nay, even they bade them put away all fear and take courage; this is a certain fact. John received one wound in the breast from a small leaden bullet. Martin was wounded in the breast, and received a deadly blow on the head from an axe. Wenceslaus was shot through the temples. The place where they were murdered is one mile from Guttenberg, on the road to Neuhas. The date was May 31st, 1639. Their bodies were taken away by the nobleman Bernard De Gerschoff, and buried in the church of the Holy Trinity, in the village of Litz. On June 3rd following they were transferred to the church of St. Barbara, at the Rector’s request. F. John Meagh was put to death in his 39th year, thirteen of which he has passed in the Society of Jesus. See also Rothe, Tanner, and Bruodin.
(From O’Daly’s Relatio, p.364)
F. MALPHÆUS, O.P., in his Palma Fidel OP., gives a detailed account of him. When he was returning to his native country from Lisbon (where he had lived for some time in the college of our Lady of the Rosary), he landed in England. He was soon after accused in London of having said in Spain that it was lawful for any one to kill the King of England. He was found guilty, hanged, and his heart and entrails cut out. But on closer examination, when the matter had been brought under the notice of the Queen, though too late, he was declared, in a placard fixed up in the streets, to have been falsely accused and condemned to death though innocent; and it was proved that he had not said what was laid to his charge, but only asserted when disputing with a heretic, who denied man’s free will, that nothing would be criminal or unlawful in human acts, not even the killing of a king, if liberty did not exist. The aforesaid F. Malphus relates two or three wonderful things that happened at his death. The first is that when the rope was cut and he was let down from the gallows and his heart and entrails were cut out, he was still alive and breathing; and whilst the executioner was shewing his heart to the crowd and exclaiming : ‘This is the heart of a traitor,’ it has been proved by the testimony of the bystanders that he turned his eyes towards the executioner, and spat at him; secondly, when the executioner was throwing his entrails into the fire prepared for the purpose, a certain young man who stood by, seeing the liver of the martyr outside the fire, thrust it in with a stick which he had in his hand, and went away cursing the man himself and his religion. But he did not escape the avenging hand of God, for his sacrilegious hand immediately trembled, and he was struck down with such internal pains that he was obliged to throw himself down on the nearest mound of earth. Some women who were on their way to the place of execution, perceived a very sweet odour while they were at some distance off, such as they never perceived before, and the nearer they came to the spot, the more fragrant it was. One of these, though a heretic, yet honestly confessed the truth of this fact. Moreover, a German, a dealer in spices by trade, passing by perceived the same sweet smell, and asserted that he never met with any so sweet in his workshop. In fine, Falkland, the Viceroy of Ireland, who was one of his judges, declared that he had suffered in consequence, and that his leg was broken in an unusual and truly wonderful way. We have several accounts of his trial and death written at the time. ‘On Wednesday, the 27th November, Arthur Gohagan was drawn on a hurdle from the King’s Bench to the City of London and so to Tiburne, from whence he was lifted off into a cart, where undismayed and with a fearless countenance he spake these words : - “In manus tuas commendo spiritum meum qula redemisti me, 0 Deus veritatis meæ,” which he often repeated. Then desiring all good Christians to pray for him, he earnestly commended his soul to God, and said “0 thou glorious Virgin Mother of our Lord and Saviour, pray to thy Son Jesus Christ to receive my soul. I would fain have received the Holy Sacrament, according to the injunction of our Order, but I could get not priest to give it me.” Then being stript to his shirt, holding up his hands to heaven with great earnestness, repeating : “In manus tuas, et.,” the cart was drawn away, when he hanged a little time; then the rope was cut with a bill, the hangman holding him fast in his arms that he should not fall to the ground, at which time the cord being slack, he made a great noise in his throat. Then they laid him on the earth, drew him along (being alive) near the fire, threw there his bowels and heart, laid him afterwards upon his face, cut off his head by the neck, divided his body by the waist, and then cut it asunder in four parts, which were not dispersed on the gates, but some of his friends obtained the disposing of them, and sent them over sea to be interred as he requested. Two days after his execution Nicolaldi, the Spanish Ambassador, wrote : ‘They hanged an Irish Dominican Friar here two days ago. He can enter into the number of the Martyrs. I cannot send the account of the case now, but will do so another day, and they will see in Rome, whatever the French may say to the contrary about the trivial nature of the persecution here on account of religion, that this Friar suffered for religion. His persecutors maliciously invented a pretext, and all I could do with the King and his ministers was of no avail.’ The General Chapter of the Order held in Rome in 1644, thus speaks of him : ‘The Venerable F.B. Arthur Geoghegan, having completed his studies in Spain, and transacted with great prudence certain business entrusted to him, when returning to his province was seized by the English heretics and cast into prison in London. He endured many calumnies from the heretics through hatred of the faith, and was brought to trial on a charge of high treason, as their custom is, and was condemned to death. At the place of execution he made open profession that he was a Catholic and a Dominican. He was hanged, and while half-alive he was cut down, his limbs cut asunder, and his entrails burnt. And so he ended his life gloriously in the year 1633.
(From Magennis ‘ De Incunabulis Collegil, B. U M., Pragensis. .) IN the year 1631, when the Prince Elector of Saxony made an incursion into Bohemia and was marching on Prague to plunder it, the citizens, the nobles, and many of the religious too, went in crowds to a more secure and better fortified place. At this time F. Patrick Fleming, Lector of sacred theology, and a most zealous promoter of religious discipline, was the first Guardian of the small community of the Franciscans of the Strict Observance who had just settled in Prague, having obtained permission to do so from the Emperor Ferdinand, by the exertions of F.Malachy Fallon, O.S.F. The community consisted of six. As their house was very poor, they thought their Poverty would be their best protection. But they were warned that their lives were not safe, as many of those among the enemy were infected with heresy. It was arranged that the Guardian and Matthew Hore, a deacon, F. Patrick Taaffe, and Francis Magennis who was not yet in holy orders, should accompany the Count De Thun to some safer place. A message from the Secretary of the Chancellor of Bohemia made the Guardian and his companion delay their journey for one day; the others set off at the appointed time. On the way they were received very kindly by the Burgravine von Steinberg and her son, devoted friends of the Order, and entertained for the night. Early the next morning they set out. They were overtaken by two Servites who asked them to accompany them in their carriage. F. Fleming refused, preferring to go on foot. Br. Hore, who was quite exhausted, joined them. The Guardian walking close by, recited with them the Rosary in honour of the Mother of God. As they were approaching the village of Benesave, in which F.Taaffe and Br. Magennis had passed the night, all of a sudden seven peasants rushed out of their house. Three of them fell on the Guardian, to rob him. One of them with a blow laid him low; the others rushed to the chariot and attacked Br. Hore. The Servites fled to the house of the Count De Thun, and told what had befallen their fellow-travellers. The Burgraf von Steinberg arrived soon after, bringing in his chariot the Guardian’s dead body, which he had met on the road. There were five wounds on his head, from which blood was issuing. The body was taken to the Franciscan Convent of Voticum, seven miles from Prague, and buried there with great honour. Two more of the monks who had left Prague at the nearer approach of the enemy, came to Benesave, where they hoped to find their beloved Father. There they learned he had been put to death. Soon after, a body of soldiers, commanded by Balthasar Barrady, came thither bringing the body of a Franciscan. He was soon recognised by the other monks. He had received a wound in the side; his heart had been pierced through by three bullets; his ears, too, were cut off. Our Fathers, Gerald Fitzgerald and Francis Welferston, took care to have the body buried, lest it might fall in to the hands of the heretics. After some weeks, Count Suorby had Br. Matthews’ body transferred to Votium, and buried in the Convent of the Franciscans which he had founded, in the same tomb with an iron railing. Those who were present when the body was removed, declared that not only was it free from all corruption, but that the face was of a beautiful colour. In the preface to the Acta SS., Colgan says of F. Fleming ‘He is united by the crown of martyrdom to the saints for whom he laboured ;‘ and again ‘he obtained the crown of martyrdom.’ See also Colgan and Bruodin
(From Ward’s Catalogue)
HE was a member of the Third Order of St. Francis. After enduring great hardships in prison, he died in chains for the faith in the year 1628. (1) On the 7 of September of the following year, the Archbishop elect of Armagh, the Archbishop of Dublin, and the Bishop elect of Kilmore, in a letter to Pope Urban VIII,., pray him to appoint Bonaventure Magennis, O.S.F., to the See, and they add : ‘We pity the desolate condition of the church of Down and Connor more than that of any other, for it has been deprived of two most illustrious champions of the faith one after the other.’ (2)
- Anno 1628, upon the 2nd of November, being Sunday at night, the titular Bishop of Down and Connor died in the Castle of Dublin. He was accused by one Patrick O’Mulvany, a Popish priest, of a conspiracy to bring in foreign powers. The Tuesday following, at four o’clock in the morning, he was brought forth and buried in St. Warborough’s churchyard.’ Hunting of the Romish Fox, p.195
- Brady’s Epis. Succession, .270. Theo there was Cornelius O’Devany.
On how the pre-war reign of Charles Stewart effected the religious freedoms of Irish Catholics.
(From Ward’s Catalogue.) HE made his religious profession on the College of Saint Antony of Padua, Louvain. While he was employed as preacher in the convent of Buttevant, he was seized there by the heretics and cast into prison in Limerick. He died in his chains in the year 1622. On the night of his death a bright flame, like a pillar, was seen by many, shining over the house in which he was lying. Many other wonderful things were seen at the time of his death.
(From Molanus’ Idea,p.96) HE passed several years in prison in Dublin, and endured in it all the hardships of cold and confinement. Broken down by sufferings, he exchanged this brief life for eternity, in the year 1621. We have the following testimony borne to his merits by the Archbishop and several of the leading clergy of the city :- We, the undersigned, having been asked to declare what we know with certainty of the manner of life and of the death of Francis Tailler, senator of Dublin, and resolved to give to virtue the praise it deserves, and to all good men the honour due to them even after death, testify and declare from certain knowledge that the aforesaid Francis Tailler, senator of the city of Dublin, was by far the most respected of the senators of Dublin, and not only that he was of good repute and much honoured by all good men, but so faithful to God that though far advanced in years, and respected for his virtue and constancy which was tested by various persecutions and imprisonment at the hands of the enemies of the Catholic Church, yet he could never be induced to swerve by a hair’s breadth from the profession of the Catholic faith and obedience to the Church of Rome. Wherefore, after an imprisonment of seven years, worn out by old age and the hardships of the prison, he died in the Castle of Dublin on January 30th, 1621. So we testify, and in proof of our good faith, we gladly subscribe our names and set our seals to the same. Given in Dublin, in Ireland, August 17th, 1630.’ Thomas Fleming,’ Archbishop of Dublin, Primate of Ireland. Luke Rochfort, RP. of St. Audeon’s Patrick Cahill, Rector of St. Mary’s Galtrim. Fr. Dominic Nugent, of the Order of Preachers. Henry Cusack, Superior of the Residence S.J., Dublin. ‘I wish to add my testimony to what is known by public report and spread abroad by the abundant testimony of many persons, and to show my respect for one who was an example to future generations, and whose memory we can never sufficiently commend. Francis Tayler was sprung from an ancient noble family both on the father’s and the mother’s side, and filled several public offices with great credit, as that of Mayor, Treasurer, and Senator, in fine, in the City of Dublin, the metropolis of Ireland. But he was far more illustrious by his profession of the Catholic faith to which he was very much attached all his life. He put the crown to this constancy and to his other great virtues by a glorious death after an imprisonment of seven years in the Castle of Dublin, on the 201h of January, 1621. ‘In testimony whereof I have set my name and seal to these presents. ‘Given in Paris, May 4th 1631.’ Thomas Mede, Protonotary of the Holy Roman Church, formerly Almoner of the Most Illustrious Cardinal de Bérulle.
(From Molanus’ Idea,p.96)
HE passed several years in prison in Dublin, and endured in it all the hardships of cold and confinement. Broken down by sufferings, he exchanged this brief life for eternity, in the year 1621. We have the following testimony borne to his merits by the Archbishop and several of the leading clergy of the city :- We, the undersigned, having been asked to declare what we know with certainty of the manner of life and of the death of Francis Tailler, senator of Dublin, and resolved to give to virtue the praise it deserves, and to all good men the honour due to them even after death, testify and declare from certain knowledge that the aforesaid Francis Tailler, senator of the city of Dublin, was by far the most respected of the senators of Dublin, and not only that he was of good repute and much honoured by all good men, but so faithful to God that though far advanced in years, and respected for his virtue and constancy which was tested by various persecutions and imprisonment at the hands of the enemies of the Catholic Church, yet he could never be induced to swerve by a hair’s breadth from the profession of the Catholic faith and obedience to the Church of Rome. Wherefore, after an imprisonment of seven years, worn out by old age and the hardships of the prison, he died in the Castle of Dublin on January 30th, 1621. So we testify, and in proof of our good faith, we gladly subscribe our names and set our seals to the same. Given in Dublin, in Ireland, August 17th, 1630.’ Thomas Fleming,’ Archbishop of Dublin, Primate of Ireland. Luke Rochfort, RP. of St. Audeon’s Patrick Cahill, Rector of St. Mary’s Galtrim. Fr. Dominic Nugent, of the Order of Preachers. Henry Cusack, Superior of the Residence S.J., Dublin. ‘I wish to add my testimony to what is known by public report and spread abroad by the abundant testimony of many persons, and to show my respect for one who was an example to future generations, and whose memory we can never sufficiently commend. Francis Tayler was sprung from an ancient noble family both on the father’s and the mother’s side, and filled several public offices with great credit, as that of Mayor, Treasurer, and Senator, in fine, in the City of Dublin, the metropolis of Ireland. But he was far more illustrious by his profession of the Catholic faith to which he was very much attached all his life. He put the crown to this constancy and to his other great virtues by a glorious death after an imprisonment of seven years in the Castle of Dublin,on the 201h of January, 1621. ‘In testimony whereof I have set my name and seal to these presents. ‘Given in Paris, May 4th 1631.’ Thomas Mede, Protonotary of the Holy Roman Church, formerly Almoner of the Most Illustrious Cardinal de Bérulle.
(From Hartry’s Triumphalia, p. 257.)
ON the 8 of September, 1620, the Rev. James Eustace received the crown of martyrdom, and by sufferings on earth like those of his brother in religion Nicholas Fitzgerald,obtained a reward in heaven. The author says he heard the account of the martyrdom of these two religious from a venerable priest, Richard Kelly, then in the seventy-sixth year of his age and in the fifty-first of his priesthood.
(From Ward’s Catalogue.) HE belonged to the Convent of the Multyfarnham. He was seized by Placidus, the heretical Bishop of Tuam, in a certain monastery, in the year 1617, and imprisoned at Mullingar. Worn out by the squalor of the prison, he died there blissfully in the Lord in the year 1618.
(From Bruodin’s Propugnaculum, p.505)
HE was a native of Connaught, a priest, and a member of the Franciscan Order. After he had spent many years in religion a model to all of every virtue, and had discharged the office of pastor very zealously among the persecuted Catholics of Leinster, he was seized by the English heretics in Dublin and cast into prison. After six weeks of imprisonment, rejecting with contempt the honours and benefices offered to him in the King’s name if he would change his religion, he was most cruelly tortured, then hanged, and quartered, and so triumphed gloriously October 14th, 1618. See also O’Sullevan.
(From Bruodin’s Propugnaculum, p.505)
HE was a native of Ulster, and a priest, and gained a victory at Derry of St ColumKille, as he would not obey the iniquitous laws of Elizabeth and James. He overcame very cruel tortures, and preferred the ignominious death of the scaffold and the cutting of his body into four parts, to abandoning the way of truth. He died, venerable by reason of his age and virtues, January 6th, 1618, and, as we may well hope, enjoys a crown of glory with the Saints. See also Copinger and O’Sullevan.
(From Bruodin’s Propugnaculum, p.499)
HE was descended from the very ancient family of the Earls of Desmond. From his very childhood he was so virtuous that he was considered a saint. When he was enrolled in the Seraphic Order, not only did he strengthen himself by vows in the virtues which he practised in the secular state, but he added others to them. He completed his studies in Spain, and in 1609 he taught theology in the College of St. Anthony of Padua at Louvain. Filled with zeal for the salvation of souls, he returned to Ireland at a time when the pestilential heresy of the English was rampant everywhere. He was Commissary and Visitor of the Irish province. For many months he was unwearied in his task of feeding the Catholic people of Munster and Leinster with the word of God, at one time preaching to them in the woods and caves, at another administering the sacraments in private houses, at all times setting before them an example of every virtue, especially of charity, modesty, the token of his inward purity, religious humility, and burning zeal. When he had passed four years in this secret and hidden way, consoling the Catholics, he was seized by the heretics, taken to Dublin, and cast into an underground prison. Worn out by hardships he died therein on the 12th, of July, 1617. The citizens having asked for his body, celebrated his obsequies for three or four days with much devotion, to the great surprise and indignation of the heretics, who strove to prevent them. At length his remains were laid in the same cemetery as those of the Bishop. See also Rothe, O’Sullevan, Ward, Wadding, Porter, and Hueber.
(From O’Sullevan’s Hist. Cath., p. 294)
THE murder of Sir Patrick Purcell, knight, worn out by old age, is well known. In his eightieth year, he was accused of having entertained at supper, in Elizabeth’s time, a Catholic knight who was fighting on the side of the Catholics. He was hanged, and cut down when only half dead, and his bowels were cast into the fire, at Fethard in the year 1612. He was known to be a patron and protector of priests.
(From Rothe’s Analecta, p. 456 and O’Sullivan’s Cath. Hist., p. 298)
CORNELIUS O’DEVANY was born in 1533. He belonged to a respectable family in Ulster. Of his early life we know little or nothing. Before he reached his twentieth year he entered the Order of St. Francis, and soon attained to a high degree of learning and piety. He was courteous, kindly, and eloquent. When he went to Rome we do not know; but while there, his singular gifts and great virtues attracted the notice of Pope Gregory XIII., and on the 18th, of April, 1582, he was appointed to succeed Donough O’Gallagher as Bishop of the united Sees of Down and Connor. He was consecrated on the feast of the Purification in the following year. He returned to his native country soon after. The time when he entered on his office was very disastrous to Ireland, since the Anglican heresy was growing more fierce and cruel there day by day. Yet in the midst of danger he discharged the duties of his office as a good pastor should, preaching the gospel, administering the sacraments, strengthening his flock in the true faith. He was one of the prelates who in 1587 met in the dioceses of Clogher, and there solemnly promulgated the decrees of the Council of Trent before a great number of the clergy. Five years after, he was taken and imprisoned in the Castle of Dublin. Fitzwilliam, then Lord Deputy, wrote to English Prime Minister, Burghley, from Dublin, October 25th, 1588: ‘There is a prisoner in the Castle, one Cornelius, Bishop of Down and Connor, who having lately escaped, had, upon his apprehension, found upon him a commission, the copy whereof your Lordship shall receive enclosed, from the Bishop of Derry, authorising him as the Vice-Primate to grant pardons and indulgences, who albeit a most pestilent and dangerous member and fit to be cut off, yet being informed that we cannot here otherwise proceed against him than in the course of præmunire, I humbly beseech your lordship’s directions and assistance for some other means whereby we may be rid of such an obstinate enemy to God and so rank a traitor to her Majesty, as no doubt he is.’ The commission of which the Deputy speaks was merely a document in which the Most Rev. Redmond O’Gallagher, Bishop of Derry and Vice-Primate during the vacancy of the primatial See of Armagh, gave certain faculties, chiefly concerning confession, to O’Devany for a year. We do not know that answer the Prime Minister gave. For the three years that followed he remained a prisoner in the Castle of Dublin. It is almost incredible what hardships he endured during that time. He would have died of hunger and thirst if necessity did not teach him how to obtain some relief. There were at this time some other persons confined in the Castle for civil offences. They were supplied, if not with good food, at least plentifully at their own expense. They were only one storey from him. He was above, and they were below. He could even hear the sound of their voices, but he could not see them. On searching carefully for some hole or chink through which he could make known his wants to those who dwelt beneath, he found that one of the boards had been broken, and that the piece inserted did not fit the break closely. Through this opening he spoke to them. They were very willing to succour him in his need, but they had little to give. However, they offered him some bits of bread and a little beer. He made a rope of some parts of his clothes, and letting it down through the hole, he drew up at one time some sour bread, at another some insipid beer. With delicacies like these he prolonged his life during the three years. On the of November, 1590, he petitioned to be set free, on the ground that he had been imprisoned solely for matters of religion, and that he was now starving for want of food, and he added the promise that he would be found in all things a liege subject of her Majesty. The petition was referred by the Deputy to the Lord Chancellor, the Lord Primate, and the Lord of Meath, to consider of it, and take such order therein as to them shall be thought meet.’ After mature consideration they gave orders that he should be set free, ‘forasmuch as the said Conogher is sworn on his corporal oath to behave himself as becometh a dutiful subject, and is also bound with sureties to appear before her Majesty’s Commissioners for Ecclesiastical Causes, when he shall be thereunto admonished.’ He should pay fees and duties, too, to ‘John Mapleston, gentleman, constable of her Majesty’s Castle of Dublin’ : and give bonds and sureties for the sum of twenty pounds, ‘or so much thereof as shall be justly proved by him due, to the wife of Stephen Segar,’ a debt which he utterly denied to be due. He was set free after an imprisonment that lasted three years, God’s wisdom so disposing that he might employ his bodily liberty to bring freedom to the souls of many. Only a short time elapsed when the Queen’s ministers repented of what they had done, and tried every art and means to get him again into their power. But as the bird which has once escaped from the snare suspects everything and is full of fear, and avoids every dangerous spot lest it may again fall into the net from which it has escaped, so he proceeded carefully and cautiously, lest he might again through inadvertence fall into the same pit. But when he perceived that this concern for his own safety interfered a good deal with his sacred duties, henceforth he thought more of the salvation of others than of his own security. At length, after several years, he fell again into the hands of those who thought they would do great service to the King by apprehending him. He was seized in the month of June, 1611, while employed in settling disputes and confirming the soldiers of Christ. The priest Patrick was seized the same month in the port of Cork, having just returned from Belgium. He confessed - what the Provincial Council had learned - that he had been the companion in their travels and had administered the rites of the Church to those exiled lords, whom fear for their own safety or their love of religion had made to fly from their lordships and wide domains. They were both taken to Dublin. The priest was thrown into the vilest dungeon; the Bishop was kept in custody in the Castle. O’Devany was brought to trial on the 28th of January following. The charge against him was that in the last war, which the Earl of Tyrone had stirred up, he had joined the side of the Earl, contrary to the obedience which he owed to the Sovereign, and was consequently guilty of high treason and treachery towards his native country, and all the more because he had aided the Earl by his advice and help when he fled with his friends. He strove to reply with good reasons to the chief heads of accusation. To the first he answered, that he was consecrated bishop and marked with the Episcopal character that this high office was laid on him that he might discharge the duties of it conscientiously, and labour with due zeal to save the souls confided to his care, and as his See of Down and Connor lay in that part of Ulster which Earl Hugh held by force of arms and ruled over, it was his office, as best he could, to direct all classes of people in the way of salvation; that as for warlike concerns and the grounds for the war, he had no wish nor did it belong to him to engage in such matters. Besides, if he had given any opinion to the Earl contrary to his own, he would not have restrained himself or given him any heed. As far as he could, both by word and deed, he had deterred everyone from vice and crime, and exhorted them to put in practice Catholic doctrine. If he attended to that duty, if he watched and toiled and by every means in his power promoted virtue, he was not afraid or ashamed, nor did he dread that it should be brought as a charge against him. But if all this was reckoned criminal now, owing to the corruption of the times, he could well defend himself by the fact that when King James, who loved peace, ascended the throne, wishing to extend his clemency to all his subjects, he declared publicly, by the voice of the herald and by open proclamation, that all crimes and offences previously committed were to be forgotten. He had, therefore, two grounds of defence: That what he had done was more worthy of praise than of censure and punishment, and even if he deserved punishment for his good actions, that the penalty was remitted by the King’s pardon. The decree of the King should be interpreted in a broad and generous spirit; otherwise it would not be an act of clemency but of hardship, not an act of kindness but of cruelty. A son of Belial came forward and accused the Bishop before the Court that he had been in the company of Earl Hugh in a certain castle shortly before his flight, and that they discussed then how he should fly, and made the necessary preparations. If he proposed such a course, or aided in it, he was guilty of a capital crime. The holy Bishop could not have done what he was accused of, and he proved by witnesses above all suspicion that he was not in any part of that province at the time, nor within several days’ journey of the place, so that he could have no knowledge of, much less could he have advised, that unfortunate expedition; and he would rather have dissuaded these persons from it; or if they had determined rather to die in exile than to live imprisoned at home, he would have accompanied them in their exile and would not part from such dear friends for ever. Even granted that he was aware of their intention to fly, though he had advised them to look to their own safety, though he had supplied them with food and drink, they were magnates of the realm, chiefs of the nation, subjects of the King, not rebels or traitors; no crime had been proved against them, they were not even suspected of it, for they were lovers of peace, and had returned from the English Court shortly before with the King’s favour. Was it so great a crime to have been intimate with these leading men, who were looked on by all as good and faithful subjects, to have comforted and relieved them, as that it could not be atoned for otherwise than by death? Whatever his enemies might say to the contrary, this was but a pretext, not the true reason, for putting him to death. The true reason which was in the minds of the judge and jury was, that he was a Catholic, a religious, a Bishop, that he had administered the sacraments, preached the word of God, worn the religious habit which was hateful to them. But even a traitor should not be condemned in a court unless according to legal forms. I do not speak of the difference between civil and ecclesiastical tribunals, of the persons who are exempt, of a suitable judge, of the authority belonging to the decrees and canons of the church, which the martyr of Canterbury defended even at the sacrifice of his life against the English customs and the Constitutions of Clarendon. He was tried by a jury. In this trial the procedure of English law was not followed. The accused was not allowed to challenge the jurors, as was his right. The questions of fact were to be decided by the jury; yet none but strangers to the country, English and Scotch, to whom the accused was not known, and who could not understand the circumstances of the case, were to give a verdict. There was one Irishman on the jury; he stated he did not understand what was said; moreover he dissented from the verdict, and declared this in the open court. Was it because an Irishman did not deserve to be listened to when an Irish man was tried? Yet an Irishman who brought a false accusation against the Bishop was listened to and believed, and an Irishman who wished to set him free and declare him innocent was not listened to. He may think himself lucky if he is not punished for telling the truth. As soon as these twelve men, a jury of perjurers, one excepted, had given in their verdict on the facts put before them, the judge2 pronounced the fatal sentence : ‘Cornelius O’Devany, bishop of Down and Connor, should be taken back to prison, and then drawn on a cart to the place of execution, there hanged on the gallows, and cut down whilst alive, stripped embowelled, his heart and bowels burnt, his head cut off, and his body quartered.’ The same sentence was pronounced on Patrick. A petition was written in his name, stating that he had lived in the province of Ulster when the Earl of Tyrone had carried on the war there and made incursions into other provinces, and neither on account of that rebellion or for any other reason had he avoided intercourse with the Earl and his party, still less after the peace had been made. If in this he had done wrong, and if the Act of Oblivion, published by the King and put forward in his defence, was not enough, he asked pardon from the Viceroy. The petition was handed in, and pardon was promised him in the Viceroy’s name, if he put his name to it. Whether it was owing to a natural love of life or to a higher purpose on the part of God that he subscribed it, God turned to his profit and honour the treacherous designs of his enemies. The Bishop did not deny that he had been in the company of Earl Hugh he admitted the fact openly, but he denied there was anything criminal in so doing. And if his adversaries, as they might, imputed it to him as a crime, he appealed to their mercy and asked for pardon but if they desired his death, they should spare his good name and put forward the true reason why they condemned him to die. They were not skilful enough in this kind of warfare, for while protecting themselves on one side, they laid themselves open on another, and seeking to avoid the charge of cruelty, they made his life depend on the will of the King; and no longer veiling their plan, but showing themselves in their true deformity, they offered him his life if he would abandon the Catholic religion and pass over to their sect. When he heard this, he raised his voice and called the whole Christian world to bear witness that he wished to die in the Catholic faith and for its defence; that he would be unjust towards himself and deny God, if for such a trifling reward he abandoned the true faith. Wherefore, having obtained his wish and made his innocence evident, he showed his contempt for this perishable life, and eager for the death that was awaiting him, with the noble courage of a Christian he welcomed the triumph of the Cross. A pious girl who used to take to the Bishop and the priest the food with which the Catholics supplied them, asked him about his health. He replied : ‘For the last ten years, my child, I have not had better health, nor have I had greater strength of body or peace of mind. One thing only do I feel anxious about, that God would deign to lead me by the way of martyrdom to His heavenly kingdom and His divine presence rather than to die of old age and to perish of decay in this prison. You, my child, have done me many and great acts of kindness, for which I am thankful to you, and I would repay them if I could. I know that God will reward you. I beg you to add this to your many good deeds done me, that when I am put to death (may God grant I shall be), you will take care to have me clothed and buried in this (showing her the habit of the Franciscan Order). For I value this which I made choice of in my youth more than any Episcopal insignia or armorial bearings.’ The martyr’s piety increased in proportion to his sufferings, and in watching and prayer he waited for the day when he should be summoned to die. That day, more pleasant than any other, so long wished for, came at length. On the 1 of February, about four o’clock in the afternoon, he was called out by the guards who were at the door, gathered round the hurdle on which he was to be drawn to the place of execution. When the Bishop caught sight of his triumphal chariot, he sighed and said : My Lord Jesus Christ for my sake went on foot up the hill bearing His Cross on which he was to die for me and must I, like one unwilling to die for Him, be carried to obtain a glorious prize, which I ought to run to seize hold of gladly and fearlessly. would that I might carry my sweet cross on my shoulders, and on foot do this last duty for my soul going to meet my Lord.’ Then turning to his companion, Patrick, ‘Come my brave comrade, noble soldier of Christ, said he, ‘let us imitate as best we can the death of Him who was led to the slaughter as the sheep before the shearer.’ Then bending down and kissing the hurdle, he mounted it, and sat with his back to the horses, and in this way he was drawn through the paved streets to the field where the gallows was set up. ‘The battle in which we are engaged consists in this,’ says Tertullian, ‘that we are summoned before the tribunals that there may fight for the truth at the peril of our lives. Victory is what we strive for; and that victory brings with it the glory of pleasing God and the prize of eternal life. Your cruelty, however refined, is of no avail ; it is rather an incentive to us. The oftener we are cut down by you, the more numerous we grow. Our blood is the seed of Christians.’ This was clearly shown during the martyrdom of the Bishop. For those Catholics who before he was imprisoned and condemned trembled at the sound of a falling leaf, who were afraid to meet a Catholic priest and still more a Bishop, and who sheltered them but very rarely in their houses lest they might run risk by so doing or incur the enmity of the rulers, now, while he was led to execution, poured out in a dense crowd from every door into the street, and all, high and low, from the neighbouring towns and castles, before the eyes of the Court, in sight of the councillors, to the indignation of the Deputy, fell on their knees they ran forward and saluted reverently the Bishop as he passed by on the cart or triumphal chariot, and asked the prelate’s blessing. And while they were shedding tears because of his death, he kindly addressed them and consoled them, and briefly exhorted them to firmness, constancy, and Christian piety. Many noble matrons came from their homes, and lamented the death of the Bishop aloud; and when they saw several of the King’s councillors not merely looking on at this butchery, but even encouraging it, and accompanying the victim with deliberate purpose to the place of execution, they exclaimed, in the hearing of those persons : ‘How strange that the King’s councillors should turn executioners.’ A blessing on that citizen of Dublin, who, as the Bishop was passing by his house fasting from early morn yet not fainting asked him to pray for him and his family, and strove to give him strength by bringing to him some wine. We may well believe that he had in mind the vision in which his mother bade King Samuel to give strong drink to them that are sad, and wine to them that are grieved in mind; that they may drink and forget their woes, and think of their sorrows no more. But because Cornelius was not sad, but rather exulted as a giant to run his course, he merely tasted the wine, and though his hands were bound, yet he blessed the house of this friend and the whole city of Dublin, and praised all its citizens for their great charity and the fervour of their faith. When Cornelius came to the place of sacrifice, being very anxious about the firmness of his companion, he asked that Patrick might suffer death first, for he was afraid that by seeing him die and by the wiles of the Calvinists, Patrick might show some weakness. But, as he did not obtain his request, Patrick assured him that he need have no fear. ‘For though,’ said he, ‘I should desire to die first, and to be comforted at the moment of death by your paternal charity, since we are now in the power of others; yet, good Father, you need have no fear for my constancy. Aid me by your prayers with God, by whose help I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor anything else, will separate me from the love of Christ or from my companionship with you.’ Filled with joy at these words, Cornelius threw himself on his knees; and he had only time to utter a very sort prayer, which however reached heaven, when the councillors, the sheriffs, and the executioner showed they wished to put an end to the business immediately. The crowd of people, closely packed together, filled the field in the northern part of the city, which would easily hold three thousand. The executioner was an Englishman, for no Irishman could be found who would defile himself by spilling the blood of one consecrated to God. He was a heretic and a robber, and had been cast into prison for theft; but he was set free that he might put the Bishop to death, and so brand himself as infamous during the rest of his life. Though he was hard-hearted and stern, and had purchased his liberty at the price of shedding another’s blood, yet he was not without some feeling for he addressed the Bishop respectfully, asked his pardon, and compassionated his grey hairs. With trembling hands he adjusted the rope. The very moment that the Bishop mounted the first step of the ladder, and his head was seen above the crowd, a great shout and a cry of lamentation was raised by the faithful. Then the minister Challoner, furious at hearing the cries of pity raised by the people at the sight of these innocent men about to suffer death, said to the Bishop and his companion : ‘You impostors, why do you delude these ignorant people. Why do you end your lives with a lie, and allow yourself to be falsely styled martyrs ? Say you are rebels, infamous, that the crowd may learn that it is for treason, and not for religion’s sake, you are brought here.’ To these words of the infuriated man the Bishop replied : ‘Far be it from us, who are about to appear before the judgment-seat of Christ very soon, to impose on the people. Far be it from us, too, to admit that we are guilty of those crimes of which our conscience does not condemn us. Nor do we, through ambition, desire to bear the name of martyrs, a name far beyond our merits, though for us to die for Christ is gain. You know well that you are yourself guilty of the very crime of falsehood with which you charge us, since you were sent a few hours ago, as you said, by the Viceroy to promise us life and liberty if we were willing to accept your wicked heresy. Go away them, thou son of darkness, and never again attempt to cloud by your calumnies and falsehood the purity of our innocence.’ The minister departed and did not disturb the martyrs further. When the Bishop reached the middle of the ladder, the cry of the people grew louder; a third time, in fine, when he was on the point of being thrown off, the lamentations of those who stood by beating, their breasts increased. Three times he prayed, standing in this same place; first for all those who stood around; secondly, for the city of Dublin and for all the Catholics of the kingdom, that they might serve God piously, faithfully, and perseveringly; and thirdly, in fine, for all heretics, that they might enter into themselves and be converted. When he was thrown off the ladder the whole crowd gave one great shout of anguish, and then the place became as silent as if there were not a man there. The executioners took him down very soon, and from the cheerfulness of his countenance they thought he was still alive. Then they cut off his head, opened his body, burned his bowels, and divided him into four quarters. One who was standing by seized the head as soon as it was cut off, and rushed into the crowd; he was never found, though the Viceroy offered a reward of forty pounds of silver to any one who would inform on him. It is said that the field was covered with men, women, and children, all wishing to be as near as possible that they might see and hear, and each strove and struggled to carry away some of his relics, a piece of his clothes or shoes, a portion of his hair, a fragment of bone or skin. He was thought especially fortunate who succeeded in bearing away the martyr’s head, more precious than gold, and deserving to be enclosed in gold and adorned with gems. It is worthy of remark that Cornelius, who many years before was consecrated Bishop on the feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin, was called by death to his reward in the other life on the vigil of the same feast, and on the day specially dedicated to the honour of St. Brigid, who is invoked by the whole nation as its patron and for whom he had a very special devotion. The same day Patrick O’Loghran suffered death. He was accused of having traitorously gone to Belgium in the same ship with O’Neill and O’Donnell. He answered that he had gone in that same ship to Belgium to study, but earlier than O’Neill and O’Donnell, and he therefore knew nothing whatever of their flight. Being asked whether he wished to be tried by a jury of twelve men, he answered; if the twelve men were Irish, they would incur danger if they wished to save him, and perhaps they would not succeed; if they were heretics, through fear or for a bribe they would readily commit a sin and condemn him, and he did not wish that good Catholics should run risks, or that heretics should add to their sins, he hoped to find justice and equity in a judge. Then Sarsfield said : ‘As you decline the trial appointed by law, the decision of the case devolves on me ;‘ and he proceeded to pronounce the sentence, which was the same as that already pronounced on O’Devany. Some say it was Sarsfield who sentenced the Bishop, and Sibthorpe, the priest. It matters little, for both sat in judgment and agreed in the sentence. It is said, too, that when the Bishop protested against being tried by a lay tribunal, Sarsfield alleged to him the example of Christ who submitted to the judgment of Pilate, and that the Bishop replied : ‘If you are not ashamed to imitate Pilate, I am not sorry to imitate Christ.’ The bodies of the martyrs were left on the scaffold during the night and were guarded by the Catholics. The next day the city was emptied of people who went to see them and commend themselves to them, to the rage of the heretics, and the Viceroy ordered them to be buried at the place of execution. The following night twelve Catholic youths disinterred and brought them to a decent place, where they were buried with other martyrs. In confirmation of the above narrative, here is the testimony of ‘Barnaby Ryche, gentleman, servant to the King’s Most Excellent Majesty,’ a Protestant, who far from sympathising with the sufferings of the Bishop, or sharing in the feelings of horror which the Catholics manifested rather exults in the death of any enemy. On the 28th January the Bishop (O’Devany) and the priest (Pk. O’Loughran) were each condemned for treason, and adjudged to be executed the Saturday following, which day being come, a priest or two of the Pope’s brood, with holy water and other holy stuffs, were sent to sanctify the gallows whereon they were to die. About two o’clock p.m. the traitors were delivered to the sheriffs of Dublin, who placed them in a small car, which was followed by a great multitude. As the car progressed the multitude knelt down but the Bishop sitting still, like a block, would not vouch safe them a word, or turn his head aside. The multitude, however, following the car, made such a dole after him as the heavens themselves resounded the echoes of their outcries. Being come to the gallows whither they were followed by troops of the citizens, men and women of all classes, most of the best being present, the latter kept up such a shrieking, such a howling, and such a hallooing as if St. Patrick himself had been going to the gallows, could not have made greater signs of grief. But when they saw him turned from off the gallows, they raised the hubbub with such a main cry, as if the rebels had come to rifle the city. Being ready to mount the ladder, when he was pressed by some of the bystanders to speak, he repeated frequently, Sine me quaeso. The executioner had no sooner taken off the Bishop’s head but the townspeople began to flock about him, some taking up the head with pitying aspect, accompanied with sobs and sighs; some kissed it with as religious an appetite as they ever kissed the Pax; some cut away all the hair from the head, which they preserved as a relic; some others were practisers to steal the head away, but the executioner gave notice to the sheriffs. Now, when he began to quarter the body, the women thronged about him, and happy was she that could get but her handkerchief dipped in the blood of the traitor; and the body being once dissevered in four quarters, they neither left finger nor toe, but they cut them off and carried them away; and some others that could get no holy monuments that appertained to his person, with their knives they shaved off chips from the hallowed gallows ; neither would they omit the halter wherewith he was hanged but it was rescued for holy uses. The same night after the execution, a great crowd flocked about the gallows, and there spent the fore part of the night in heathenish howling, and performing many popish ceremonies. And after midnight, being then Candlemas day in the morning, having their priests present in readiness, they had Mass after Mass, till daylight being come, they departed to their own houses. The Bishop was invested by the Pope, for these Balaamite idiots be fit instruments to spread the Pope’s doctrine, especially in Ireland, where the poor people are so infested with this locust vermin of priests and friars, that they will sooner believe an ass that comes from Rome with a Pope’s Bull, than an angel from heaven that should be sent with the light of God’s word.’ Chichester, the Lord Deputy, wrote four days after to Lord Salisbury ‘I have given charge to Sir R. Cooke to tell you how a titulary bishop and a priest being lately executed here for treason merely, are notwithstanding, by them thought martyrs and adored for saints.’ When he was told that the people venerated them as martyrs, he said ‘I will soon give them plenty like them.’ Here is how the Four Masters, under the date 1611, speak of the death of O’Devany and O’Locran : - Conor O’Devany, Bishop of Down and Connor, who had been at first a friar of the Order of St. Francis of the convent of Donegal, but who was afterwards, for his good qualifications, elected to the Episcopal dignity, was taken prisoner by the English, and he was detained by them for a long time in bondage and punishment, and they offered him riches and many rewards if he would turn over to their heresy; but he refused to accept of them, for he despised transitory riches for an everlasting kingdom. God released him from the English on that occasion ; but he was taken again. Sir Arthur Chichester being at this time Lord Justice of Ireland, he was put to death. He was first beheaded, then his body was cut in quarters, and his flesh mangled, in Dublin on the 1st of February. There was not a Christian in the land of Ireland whose heart did not shudder within him at horror of the martyrdom which this chaste, wise divine, and this perfect and truly meek, righteous man suffered for the reward of his soul. The Christians who were in Dublin contended with each other to see which of them should have one of his limbs, and not only his limbs, but they had fine linen in readiness to prevent his blood from falling on the ground, for they were convinced that he was one of the martyrs of the Lord. Gillapatrick O’Loughrane, a distinguished priest, was with the Bishop at this time. When the English had decided that both these should be put to death, the Bishop felt afraid that the priest might be filled with horror and dismay at the sight of the tortures about to be inflicted upon his body in his presence. He, therefore requested the executioner to put the priest to death before himself. The priest said that he need not be in dread on his account, and that he would follow without fear, and he remarked it was not meet an honourable Bishop should be without a priest to attend him. This he fulfilled, for he consented and suffered the like torture to be inflicted on him with fortitude, for the sake of obtaining the kingdom of heaven for his soul. ‘The same night,’ writes the Archbishop of Cashel, ‘the Lord was pleased to honour the Bishop’s body with a miracle wrought on a paralytic, who, as best he could, crawled to it with reverence and faith, and as soon as he touched it was cured.’ The Archbishop of Dublin, in a report to the Propaganda, February 4th, 1623, says ‘Cornelius O’Devany, a Franciscan, Bishop of Down and Connor, being almost eighty years of age, was crowned with martyrdom about ten years ago in Dublin, thus giving a noble example to the whole nation. ‘The holy Bishop,’ writes F. Holywood, S.J., ‘a short time before his capture, forwarded to me the names and dates of death of all the bishops and priests whom he knew to have been executed since the death of Primate Creagh, and he asked me to investigate their lives and actions and save them from oblivion. Hence as soon as I heard of his death, not being far away from the scene at the time, I believed that he who was so anxious to preserve the memory of our Martyrs, had received the crown of martyrdom himself. In the Bull of appointment of his successor Edmund Dungan, the See of Down and Connor is declared ‘vacant owing to the death of Brother Cornelius of Down, beheaded by the heretics on account of the Catholic faith.’ The bodies of these holy men were buried in St. James church, as we learn from the following letter :- ‘Mr. Dostefield is lately dead, and desired to be buried between these two blessed martyrs, as he called them, in St. James’, Kilmainham, viz., the popish Archbishop of Dublin, that was executed in Lord Chichester’s government, and a holy fryer that died with him, which was done accordingly, with 1,000 beholders.’
See also Fitzimon, Copinger, O’Sullevan, Molanus, Ward, Wadding, O’Daiy, Lynch, Arsdeken, Porter, and Hueber.
(From Rothe’s Analecta, p. 456 and O’Sullivan’s Cath. Hist., p. 298)
CORNELIUS O’DEVANY was born in 1533. He belonged to a respectable family in Ulster. Of his early life we know little or nothing. Before he reached his twentieth year he entered the Order of St. Francis, and soon attained to a high degree of learning and piety. He was courteous, kindly, and eloquent. When he went to Rome we do not know; but while there, his singular gifts and great virtues attracted the notice of Pope Gregory XIII., and on the 18th, of April, 1582, he was appointed to succeed Donough O’Gallagher as Bishop of the united Sees of Down and Connor. He was consecrated on the feast of the Purification in the following year. He returned to his native country soon after. The time when he entered on his office was very disastrous to Ireland, since the Anglican heresy was growing more fierce and cruel there day by day. Yet in the midst of danger he discharged the duties of his office as a good pastor should, preaching the gospel, administering the sacraments, strengthening his flock in the true faith. He was one of the prelates who in 1587 met in the dioceses of Clogher, and there solemnly promulgated the decrees of the Council of Trent before a great number of the clergy. Five years after, he was taken and imprisoned in the Castle of Dublin. Fitzwilliam, then Lord Deputy, wrote to English Prime Minister, Burghley, from Dublin, October 25th, 1588: ‘There is a prisoner in the Castle, one Cornelius, Bishop of Down and Connor, who having lately escaped, had, upon his apprehension, found upon him a commission, the copy whereof your Lordship shall receive enclosed, from the Bishop of Derry, authorising him as the Vice-Primate to grant pardons and indulgences, who albeit a most pestilent and dangerous member and fit to be cut off, yet being informed that we cannot here otherwise proceed against him than in the course of præmunire, I humbly beseech your lordship’s directions and assistance for some other means whereby we may be rid of such an obstinate enemy to God and so rank a traitor to her Majesty, as no doubt he is.’ The commission of which the Deputy speaks was merely a document in which the Most Rev. Redmond O’Gallagher, Bishop of Derry and Vice-Primate during the vacancy of the primatial See of Armagh, gave certain faculties, chiefly concerning confession, to O’Devany for a year. We do not know that answer the Prime Minister gave. For the three years that followed he remained a prisoner in the Castle of Dublin. It is almost incredible what hardships he endured during that time. He would have died of hunger and thirst if necessity did not teach him how to obtain some relief. There were at this time some other persons confined in the Castle for civil offences. They were supplied, if not with good food, at least plentifully at their own expense. They were only one storey from him. He was above, and they were below. He could even hear the sound of their voices, but he could not see them. On searching carefully for some hole or chink through which he could make known his wants to those who dwelt beneath, he found that one of the boards had been broken, and that the piece inserted did not fit the break closely. Through this opening he spoke to them. They were very willing to succour him in his need, but they had little to give. However, they offered him some bits of bread and a little beer. He made a rope of some parts of his clothes, and letting it down through the hole, he drew up at one time some sour bread, at another some insipid beer. With delicacies like these he prolonged his life during the three years. On the of November, 1590, he petitioned to be set free, on the ground that he had been imprisoned solely for matters of religion, and that he was now starving for want of food, and he added the promise that he would be found in all things a liege subject of her Majesty. The petition was referred by the Deputy to the Lord Chancellor, the Lord Primate, and the Lord of Meath, to consider of it, and take such order therein as to them shall be thought meet.’ After mature consideration they gave orders that he should be set free, ‘forasmuch as the said Conogher is sworn on his corporal oath to behave himself as becometh a dutiful subject, and is also bound with sureties to appear before her Majesty’s Commissioners for Ecclesiastical Causes, when he shall be thereunto admonished.’ He should pay fees and duties, too, to ‘John Mapleston, gentleman, constable of her Majesty’s Castle of Dublin’ : and give bonds and sureties for the sum of twenty pounds, ‘or so much thereof as shall be justly proved by him due, to the wife of Stephen Segar,’ a debt which he utterly denied to be due. He was set free after an imprisonment that lasted three years, God’s wisdom so disposing that he might employ his bodily liberty to bring freedom to the souls of many. Only a short time elapsed when the Queen’s ministers repented of what they had done, and tried every art and means to get him again into their power. But as the bird which has once escaped from the snare suspects everything and is full of fear, and avoids every dangerous spot lest it may again fall into the net from which it has escaped, so he proceeded carefully and cautiously, lest he might again through inadvertence fall into the same pit. But when he perceived that this concern for his own safety interfered a good deal with his sacred duties, henceforth he thought more of the salvation of others than of his own security. At length, after several years, he fell again into the hands of those who thought they would do great service to the King by apprehending him. He was seized in the month of June, 1611, while employed in settling disputes and confirming the soldiers of Christ. The priest Patrick was seized the same month in the port of Cork, having just returned from Belgium. He confessed - what the Provincial Council had learned - that he had been the companion in their travels and had administered the rites of the Church to those exiled lords, whom fear for their own safety or their love of religion had made to fly from their lordships and wide domains. They were both taken to Dublin. The priest was thrown into the vilest dungeon; the Bishop was kept in custody in the Castle. O’Devany was brought to trial on the 28th of January following. The charge against him was that in the last war, which the Earl of Tyrone had stirred up, he had joined the side of the Earl, contrary to the obedience which he owed to the Sovereign, and was consequently guilty of high treason and treachery towards his native country, and all the more because he had aided the Earl by his advice and help when he fled with his friends. He strove to reply with good reasons to the chief heads of accusation. To the first he answered, that he was consecrated bishop and marked with the Episcopal character that this high office was laid on him that he might discharge the duties of it conscientiously, and labour with due zeal to save the souls confided to his care, and as his See of Down and Connor lay in that part of Ulster which Earl Hugh held by force of arms and ruled over, it was his office, as best he could, to direct all classes of people in the way of salvation; that as for warlike concerns and the grounds for the war, he had no wish nor did it belong to him to engage in such matters. Besides, if he had given any opinion to the Earl contrary to his own, he would not have restrained himself or given him any heed. As far as he could, both by word and deed, he had deterred everyone from vice and crime, and exhorted them to put in practice Catholic doctrine. If he attended to that duty, if he watched and toiled and by every means in his power promoted virtue, he was not afraid or ashamed, nor did he dread that it should be brought as a charge against him. But if all this was reckoned criminal now, owing to the corruption of the times, he could well defend himself by the fact that when King James, who loved peace, ascended the throne, wishing to extend his clemency to all his subjects, he declared publicly, by the voice of the herald and by open proclamation, that all crimes and offences previously committed were to be forgotten. He had, therefore, two grounds of defence: That what he had done was more worthy of praise than of censure and punishment, and even if he deserved punishment for his good actions, that the penalty was remitted by the King’s pardon. The decree of the King should be interpreted in a broad and generous spirit; otherwise it would not be an act of clemency but of hardship, not an act of kindness but of cruelty. A son of Belial came forward and accused the Bishop before the Court that he had been in the company of Earl Hugh in a certain castle shortly before his flight, and that they discussed then how he should fly, and made the necessary preparations. If he proposed such a course, or aided in it, he was guilty of a capital crime. The holy Bishop could not have done what he was accused of, and he proved by witnesses above all suspicion that he was not in any part of that province at the time, nor within several days’ journey of the place, so that he could have no knowledge of, much less could he have advised, that unfortunate expedition; and he would rather have dissuaded these persons from it; or if they had determined rather to die in exile than to live imprisoned at home, he would have accompanied them in their exile and would not part from such dear friends for ever. Even granted that he was aware of their intention to fly, though he had advised them to look to their own safety, though he had supplied them with food and drink, they were magnates of the realm, chiefs of the nation, subjects of the King, not rebels or traitors; no crime had been proved against them, they were not even suspected of it, for they were lovers of peace, and had returned from the English Court shortly before with the King’s favour. Was it so great a crime to have been intimate with these leading men, who were looked on by all as good and faithful subjects, to have comforted and relieved them, as that it could not be atoned for otherwise than by death? Whatever his enemies might say to the contrary, this was but a pretext, not the true reason, for putting him to death. The true reason which was in the minds of the judge and jury was, that he was a Catholic, a religious, a Bishop, that he had administered the sacraments, preached the word of God, worn the religious habit which was hateful to them. But even a traitor should not be condemned in a court unless according to legal forms. I do not speak of the difference between civil and ecclesiastical tribunals, of the persons who are exempt, of a suitable judge, of the authority belonging to the decrees and canons of the church, which the martyr of Canterbury defended even at the sacrifice of his life against the English customs and the Constitutions of Clarendon. He was tried by a jury. In this trial the procedure of English law was not followed. The accused was not allowed to challenge the jurors, as was his right. The questions of fact were to be decided by the jury; yet none but strangers to the country, English and Scotch, to whom the accused was not known, and who could not understand the circumstances of the case, were to give a verdict. There was one Irishman on the jury; he stated he did not understand what was said; moreover he dissented from the verdict, and declared this in the open court. Was it because an Irishman did not deserve to be listened to when an Irish man was tried? Yet an Irishman who brought a false accusation against the Bishop was listened to and believed, and an Irishman who wished to set him free and declare him innocent was not listened to. He may think himself lucky if he is not punished for telling the truth. As soon as these twelve men, a jury of perjurers, one excepted, had given in their verdict on the facts put before them, the judge2 pronounced the fatal sentence : ‘Cornelius O’Devany, bishop of Down and Connor, should be taken back to prison, and then drawn on a cart to the place of execution, there hanged on the gallows, and cut down whilst alive, stripped embowelled, his heart and bowels burnt, his head cut off, and his body quartered.’ The same sentence was pronounced on Patrick. A petition was written in his name, stating that he had lived in the province of Ulster when the Earl of Tyrone had carried on the war there and made incursions into other provinces, and neither on account of that rebellion or for any other reason had he avoided intercourse with the Earl and his party, still less after the peace had been made. If in this he had done wrong, and if the Act of Oblivion, published by the King and put forward in his defence, was not enough, he asked pardon from the Viceroy. The petition was handed in, and pardon was promised him in the Viceroy’s name, if he put his name to it. Whether it was owing to a natural love of life or to a higher purpose on the part of God that he subscribed it, God turned to his profit and honour the treacherous designs of his enemies. The Bishop did not deny that he had been in the company of Earl Hugh he admitted the fact openly, but he denied there was anything criminal in so doing. And if his adversaries, as they might, imputed it to him as a crime, he appealed to their mercy and asked for pardon but if they desired his death, they should spare his good name and put forward the true reason why they condemned him to die. They were not skilful enough in this kind of warfare, for while protecting themselves on one side, they laid themselves open on another, and seeking to avoid the charge of cruelty, they made his life depend on the will of the King; and no longer veiling their plan, but showing themselves in their true deformity, they offered him his life if he would abandon the Catholic religion and pass over to their sect. When he heard this, he raised his voice and called the whole Christian world to bear witness that he wished to die in the Catholic faith and for its defence; that he would be unjust towards himself and deny God, if for such a trifling reward he abandoned the true faith. Wherefore, having obtained his wish and made his innocence evident, he showed his contempt for this perishable life, and eager for the death that was awaiting him, with the noble courage of a Christian he welcomed the triumph of the Cross. A pious girl who used to take to the Bishop and the priest the food with which the Catholics supplied them, asked him about his health. He replied : ‘For the last ten years, my child, I have not had better health, nor have I had greater strength of body or peace of mind. One thing only do I feel anxious about, that God would deign to lead me by the way of martyrdom to His heavenly kingdom and His divine presence rather than to die of old age and to perish of decay in this prison. You, my child, have done me many and great acts of kindness, for which I am thankful to you, and I would repay them if I could. I know that God will reward you. I beg you to add this to your many good deeds done me, that when I am put to death (may God grant I shall be), you will take care to have me clothed and buried in this (showing her the habit of the Franciscan Order). For I value this which I made choice of in my youth more than any Episcopal insignia or armorial bearings.’ The martyr’s piety increased in proportion to his sufferings, and in watching and prayer he waited for the day when he should be summoned to die. That day, more pleasant than any other, so long wished for, came at length. On the 1 of February, about four o’clock in the afternoon, he was called out by the guards who were at the door, gathered round the hurdle on which he was to be drawn to the place of execution. When the Bishop caught sight of his triumphal chariot, he sighed and said : My Lord Jesus Christ for my sake went on foot up the hill bearing His Cross on which he was to die for me and must I, like one unwilling to die for Him, be carried to obtain a glorious prize, which I ought to run to seize hold of gladly and fearlessly. would that I might carry my sweet cross on my shoulders, and on foot do this last duty for my soul going to meet my Lord.’ Then turning to his companion, Patrick, ‘Come my brave comrade, noble soldier of Christ, said he, ‘let us imitate as best we can the death of Him who was led to the slaughter as the sheep before the shearer.’ Then bending down and kissing the hurdle, he mounted it, and sat with his back to the horses, and in this way he was drawn through the paved streets to the field where the gallows was set up. ‘The battle in which we are engaged consists in this,’ says Tertullian, ‘that we are summoned before the tribunals that there may fight for the truth at the peril of our lives. Victory is what we strive for; and that victory brings with it the glory of pleasing God and the prize of eternal life. Your cruelty, however refined, is of no avail ; it is rather an incentive to us. The oftener we are cut down by you, the more numerous we grow. Our blood is the seed of Christians.’ This was clearly shown during the martyrdom of the Bishop. For those Catholics who before he was imprisoned and condemned trembled at the sound of a falling leaf, who were afraid to meet a Catholic priest and still more a Bishop, and who sheltered them but very rarely in their houses lest they might run risk by so doing or incur the enmity of the rulers, now, while he was led to execution, poured out in a dense crowd from every door into the street, and all, high and low, from the neighbouring towns and castles, before the eyes of the Court, in sight of the councillors, to the indignation of the Deputy, fell on their knees they ran forward and saluted reverently the Bishop as he passed by on the cart or triumphal chariot, and asked the prelate’s blessing. And while they were shedding tears because of his death, he kindly addressed them and consoled them, and briefly exhorted them to firmness, constancy, and Christian piety. Many noble matrons came from their homes, and lamented the death of the Bishop aloud; and when they saw several of the King’s councillors not merely looking on at this butchery, but even encouraging it, and accompanying the victim with deliberate purpose to the place of execution, they exclaimed, in the hearing of those persons : ‘How strange that the King’s councillors should turn executioners.’ A blessing on that citizen of Dublin, who, as the Bishop was passing by his house fasting from early morn yet not fainting asked him to pray for him and his family, and strove to give him strength by bringing to him some wine. We may well believe that he had in mind the vision in which his mother bade King Samuel to give strong drink to them that are sad, and wine to them that are grieved in mind; that they may drink and forget their woes, and think of their sorrows no more. But because Cornelius was not sad, but rather exulted as a giant to run his course, he merely tasted the wine, and though his hands were bound, yet he blessed the house of this friend and the whole city of Dublin, and praised all its citizens for their great charity and the fervour of their faith. When Cornelius came to the place of sacrifice, being very anxious about the firmness of his companion, he asked that Patrick might suffer death first, for he was afraid that by seeing him die and by the wiles of the Calvinists, Patrick might show some weakness. But, as he did not obtain his request, Patrick assured him that he need have no fear. ‘For though,’ said he, ‘I should desire to die first, and to be comforted at the moment of death by your paternal charity, since we are now in the power of others; yet, good Father, you need have no fear for my constancy. Aid me by your prayers with God, by whose help I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor anything else, will separate me from the love of Christ or from my companionship with you.’ Filled with joy at these words, Cornelius threw himself on his knees; and he had only time to utter a very sort prayer, which however reached heaven, when the councillors, the sheriffs, and the executioner showed they wished to put an end to the business immediately. The crowd of people, closely packed together, filled the field in the northern part of the city, which would easily hold three thousand. The executioner was an Englishman, for no Irishman could be found who would defile himself by spilling the blood of one consecrated to God. He was a heretic and a robber, and had been cast into prison for theft; but he was set free that he might put the Bishop to death, and so brand himself as infamous during the rest of his life. Though he was hard-hearted and stern, and had purchased his liberty at the price of shedding another’s blood, yet he was not without some feeling for he addressed the Bishop respectfully, asked his pardon, and compassionated his grey hairs. With trembling hands he adjusted the rope. The very moment that the Bishop mounted the first step of the ladder, and his head was seen above the crowd, a great shout and a cry of lamentation was raised by the faithful. Then the minister Challoner, furious at hearing the cries of pity raised by the people at the sight of these innocent men about to suffer death, said to the Bishop and his companion : ‘You impostors, why do you delude these ignorant people. Why do you end your lives with a lie, and allow yourself to be falsely styled martyrs ? Say you are rebels, infamous, that the crowd may learn that it is for treason, and not for religion’s sake, you are brought here.’ To these words of the infuriated man the Bishop replied : ‘Far be it from us, who are about to appear before the judgment-seat of Christ very soon, to impose on the people. Far be it from us, too, to admit that we are guilty of those crimes of which our conscience does not condemn us. Nor do we, through ambition, desire to bear the name of martyrs, a name far beyond our merits, though for us to die for Christ is gain. You know well that you are yourself guilty of the very crime of falsehood with which you charge us, since you were sent a few hours ago, as you said, by the Viceroy to promise us life and liberty if we were willing to accept your wicked heresy. Go away them, thou son of darkness, and never again attempt to cloud by your calumnies and falsehood the purity of our innocence.’ The minister departed and did not disturb the martyrs further. When the Bishop reached the middle of the ladder, the cry of the people grew louder; a third time, in fine, when he was on the point of being thrown off, the lamentations of those who stood by beating, their breasts increased. Three times he prayed, standing in this same place; first for all those who stood around; secondly, for the city of Dublin and for all the Catholics of the kingdom, that they might serve God piously, faithfully, and perseveringly; and thirdly, in fine, for all heretics, that they might enter into themselves and be converted. When he was thrown off the ladder the whole crowd gave one great shout of anguish, and then the place became as silent as if there were not a man there. The executioners took him down very soon, and from the cheerfulness of his countenance they thought he was still alive. Then they cut off his head, opened his body, burned his bowels, and divided him into four quarters. One who was standing by seized the head as soon as it was cut off, and rushed into the crowd; he was never found, though the Viceroy offered a reward of forty pounds of silver to any one who would inform on him. It is said that the field was covered with men, women, and children, all wishing to be as near as possible that they might see and hear, and each strove and struggled to carry away some of his relics, a piece of his clothes or shoes, a portion of his hair, a fragment of bone or skin. He was thought especially fortunate who succeeded in bearing away the martyr’s head, more precious than gold, and deserving to be enclosed in gold and adorned with gems. It is worthy of remark that Cornelius, who many years before was consecrated Bishop on the feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin, was called by death to his reward in the other life on the vigil of the same feast, and on the day specially dedicated to the honour of St. Brigid, who is invoked by the whole nation as its patron and for whom he had a very special devotion. The same day Patrick O’Loghran suffered death. He was accused of having traitorously gone to Belgium in the same ship with O’Neill and O’Donnell. He answered that he had gone in that same ship to Belgium to study, but earlier than O’Neill and O’Donnell, and he therefore knew nothing whatever of their flight. Being asked whether he wished to be tried by a jury of twelve men, he answered; if the twelve men were Irish, they would incur danger if they wished to save him, and perhaps they would not succeed; if they were heretics, through fear or for a bribe they would readily commit a sin and condemn him, and he did not wish that good Catholics should run risks, or that heretics should add to their sins, he hoped to find justice and equity in a judge. Then Sarsfield said : ‘As you decline the trial appointed by law, the decision of the case devolves on me ;‘ and he proceeded to pronounce the sentence, which was the same as that already pronounced on O’Devany. Some say it was Sarsfield who sentenced the Bishop, and Sibthorpe, the priest. It matters little, for both sat in judgment and agreed in the sentence. It is said, too, that when the Bishop protested against being tried by a lay tribunal, Sarsfield alleged to him the example of Christ who submitted to the judgment of Pilate, and that the Bishop replied : ‘If you are not ashamed to imitate Pilate, I am not sorry to imitate Christ.’ The bodies of the martyrs were left on the scaffold during the night and were guarded by the Catholics. The next day the city was emptied of people who went to see them and commend themselves to them, to the rage of the heretics, and the Viceroy ordered them to be buried at the place of execution. The following night twelve Catholic youths disinterred and brought them to a decent place, where they were buried with other martyrs. In confirmation of the above narrative, here is the testimony of ‘Barnaby Ryche, gentleman, servant to the King’s Most Excellent Majesty,’ a Protestant, who far from sympathising with the sufferings of the Bishop, or sharing in the feelings of horror which the Catholics manifested rather exults in the death of any enemy. On the 28th January the Bishop (O’Devany) and the priest (Pk. O’Loughran) were each condemned for treason, and adjudged to be executed the Saturday following, which day being come, a priest or two of the Pope’s brood, with holy water and other holy stuffs, were sent to sanctify the gallows whereon they were to die. About two o’clock p.m. the traitors were delivered to the sheriffs of Dublin, who placed them in a small car, which was followed by a great multitude. As the car progressed the multitude knelt down but the Bishop sitting still, like a block, would not vouch safe them a word, or turn his head aside. The multitude, however, following the car, made such a dole after him as the heavens themselves resounded the echoes of their outcries. Being come to the gallows whither they were followed by troops of the citizens, men and women of all classes, most of the best being present, the latter kept up such a shrieking, such a howling, and such a hallooing as if St. Patrick himself had been going to the gallows, could not have made greater signs of grief. But when they saw him turned from off the gallows, they raised the hubbub with such a main cry, as if the rebels had come to rifle the city. Being ready to mount the ladder, when he was pressed by some of the bystanders to speak, he repeated frequently, Sine me quaeso. The executioner had no sooner taken off the Bishop’s head but the townspeople began to flock about him, some taking up the head with pitying aspect, accompanied with sobs and sighs; some kissed it with as religious an appetite as they ever kissed the Pax; some cut away all the hair from the head, which they preserved as a relic; some others were practisers to steal the head away, but the executioner gave notice to the sheriffs. Now, when he began to quarter the body, the women thronged about him, and happy was she that could get but her handkerchief dipped in the blood of the traitor; and the body being once dissevered in four quarters, they neither left finger nor toe, but they cut them off and carried them away; and some others that could get no holy monuments that appertained to his person, with their knives they shaved off chips from the hallowed gallows ; neither would they omit the halter wherewith he was hanged but it was rescued for holy uses. The same night after the execution, a great crowd flocked about the gallows, and there spent the fore part of the night in heathenish howling, and performing many popish ceremonies. And after midnight, being then Candlemas day in the morning, having their priests present in readiness, they had Mass after Mass, till daylight being come, they departed to their own houses. The Bishop was invested by the Pope, for these Balaamite idiots be fit instruments to spread the Pope’s doctrine, especially in Ireland, where the poor people are so infested with this locust vermin of priests and friars, that they will sooner believe an ass that comes from Rome with a Pope’s Bull, than an angel from heaven that should be sent with the light of God’s word.’ Chichester, the Lord Deputy, wrote four days after to Lord Salisbury ‘I have given charge to Sir R. Cooke to tell you how a titulary bishop and a priest being lately executed here for treason merely, are notwithstanding, by them thought martyrs and adored for saints.’ When he was told that the people venerated them as martyrs, he said ‘I will soon give them plenty like them.’ Here is how the Four Masters, under the date 1611, speak of the death of O’Devany and O’Locran : - Conor O’Devany, Bishop of Down and Connor, who had been at first a friar of the Order of St. Francis of the convent of Donegal, but who was afterwards, for his good qualifications, elected to the Episcopal dignity, was taken prisoner by the English, and he was detained by them for a long time in bondage and punishment, and they offered him riches and many rewards if he would turn over to their heresy; but he refused to accept of them, for he despised transitory riches for an everlasting kingdom. God released him from the English on that occasion ; but he was taken again. Sir Arthur Chichester being at this time Lord Justice of Ireland, he was put to death. He was first beheaded, then his body was cut in quarters, and his flesh mangled, in Dublin on the 1st of February. There was not a Christian in the land of Ireland whose heart did not shudder within him at horror of the martyrdom which this chaste, wise divine, and this perfect and truly meek, righteous man suffered for the reward of his soul. The Christians who were in Dublin contended with each other to see which of them should have one of his limbs, and not only his limbs, but they had fine linen in readiness to prevent his blood from falling on the ground, for they were convinced that he was one of the martyrs of the Lord. Gillapatrick O’Loughrane, a distinguished priest, was with the Bishop at this time. When the English had decided that both these should be put to death, the Bishop felt afraid that the priest might be filled with horror and dismay at the sight of the tortures about to be inflicted upon his body in his presence. He, therefore requested the executioner to put the priest to death before himself. The priest said that he need not be in dread on his account, and that he would follow without fear, and he remarked it was not meet an honourable Bishop should be without a priest to attend him. This he fulfilled, for he consented and suffered the like torture to be inflicted on him with fortitude, for the sake of obtaining the kingdom of heaven for his soul. ‘The same night,’ writes the Archbishop of Cashel, ‘the Lord was pleased to honour the Bishop’s body with a miracle wrought on a paralytic, who, as best he could, crawled to it with reverence and faith, and as soon as he touched it was cured.’ The Archbishop of Dublin, in a report to the Propaganda, February 4th, 1623, says ‘Cornelius O’Devany, a Franciscan, Bishop of Down and Connor, being almost eighty years of age, was crowned with martyrdom about ten years ago in Dublin, thus giving a noble example to the whole nation. ‘The holy Bishop,’ writes F. Holywood, S.J., ‘a short time before his capture, forwarded to me the names and dates of death of all the bishops and priests whom he knew to have been executed since the death of Primate Creagh, and he asked me to investigate their lives and actions and save them from oblivion. Hence as soon as I heard of his death, not being far away from the scene at the time, I believed that he who was so anxious to preserve the memory of our Martyrs, had received the crown of martyrdom himself. In the Bull of appointment of his successor Edmund Dungan, the See of Down and Connor is declared ‘vacant owing to the death of Brother Cornelius of Down, beheaded by the heretics on account of the Catholic faith.’ The bodies of these holy men were buried in St. James church, as we learn from the following letter :- ‘Mr. Dostefield is lately dead, and desired to be buried between these two blessed martyrs, as he called them, in St. James’, Kilmainham, viz., the popish Archbishop of Dublin, that was executed in Lord Chichester’s government, and a holy fryer that died with him, which was done accordingly, with 1,000 beholders.’
See also Fitzimon, Copinger, O’Sullevan, Molanus, Ward, Wadding, O’Daiy, Lynch, Arsdeken, Porter, and Hueber.
(From Bruodin’s Propugnaculum, p. 673
THIS pious and zealous priest was a native of Wexford. At the risk of his life he used to comfort the flock confided to his care, and encourage them to persevere in the profession of the faith of their fathers, at a time when the heretics were persecuting the Catholics cruelly. Wherefore he was seized by them, and hanged and quartered in Dublin November 12th, 1610.
(From Molanus Idea, p. 154)
HE was a priest, and because he had spread the Catholic faith with all his might throughout every province of Ireland, then convulsed with war, he was seized through hatred of the faith, and torn to pieces by means of four wild horses, and so he ended his life, to be followed by a triumphant entrance into eternal bliss, in the year 1609. See also Rothe, Copinger, O’Sullevan, and Ward
- Another of similar name will be found at p. 125, antea. Clearly they are two distinct persons ; one was a Franciscan, the other a parish priest, The manner of their death is different too.
(From Molanus’ Idea, p. 72) HE was a priest of great age and venerable appearance. He was hanged at Lifford, in the territory of the most illustrious Earl of Tyrconnell. He was cut down while still breathing, disembowelled, and quartered by the heretics hardened in their cruelty, and in this way he triumphed as a martyr, in 1609. Possibly this is one of the priests of whom F. Holywood,S.J, wrote in 1609: A priest was put to death in Dublin, and another in the north.’ * See also Rothe, O’Sullevan, Monalus, Ward, and Porter
*Distinguished Irishmen, p. 462
(From De Burgo’s Hib. Dom., p.559)
AMONG our Irish martyrs assuredly these may well claim the first place. They are spoken of at length in the work bearing the title Palma Fidel Ordains Prœdicatorum composed by the Rev. Father B. Peter Malphæus, OP., prior of Brussels ; viz:’ Donough, alias William, Olvin, (1) prior of the convent of Derry in Ulster (2): he was hanged, with many secular priests, in the square of the said city, and quartered, by the English heretics in the year 1608. The brother of the Prior; he too was a religious of the Order of preachers, and was hanged some time before the Prior suffered, in the same city, because he professed the Catholic faith, as we read in the said Malphæus. See also O’Sullevan, Molanus, O’Daly, and Porter
- Or O’Laighen
- Founded by O’Donnell, chief of his clan, in 1244. Hib. Dom. P.281
- There is some uncertainty about the date. The above is that given in Hib. Dom., p.559
HE was Vicar General of the dioceses of Dublin, Kildare, and Ferns, ‘a good and pious man, who has great influence in the ecclesiastical concerns of this kingdom.’ His capture is thus spoken of in a letter of Chichester to the Earl of Salisbury, of February 26th, 1606 : ‘They have taken one Lawler, a priest, whose name is well known to the Lord Lieutenant. They got him by the endeavour of Sir Oliver Lambert, who set his lieutenant, who was then one of their provost marshals, to watch him, and he was quietly taken, with some papers, and divers popish trinkets. He is a notable seducer of the people and called himself Vicar General of Dublin and Kildare, and so reputed throughout Leinster.’ He was indicted under the 2 Eliz. c.i., for advancing and upholding foreign jurisdiction within this realm. If we are to believe Cox, he humbled himself to the Court, and voluntary and upon oath made a recognition, - 1. That he was not lawful Vicar General in the dioceses of Dublin, Kildare, and Ferns. 2. He doth acknowledge King James to be his supreme governor in all causes, as well ecclesiastical as civil. 3. That all bishops ordained by the King’s authority within any of his dominions are lawful bishops. 4. He professeth himself willing to obey the King as in all his lawful commandments, either concerning his function of priesthood or any other duty belonging to a good subject.’ His name is not given in Rothe’s Catalogue of Martyrs. He was a prisoner in the Castle of Dublin on November 12th, 1606. Most probably he was confined there till his death, for there is no further mention of him in the State Papers.
(From Bruodin’s Propugnaculum p. 499) HE was descended from a noble family in Ulster, and adorned the Order of St. Francis for many years by his strict observance of the rule and holiness of life. At last he was seized by the heretics in the county of Tyrone, scourged with whips, and hanged, in hatred of the Catholic faith, and in this way he obtained the crown of martyrdom, January 15th, 1607. See also Rothe, Molanus, Ward, wadding, Porter, and Hueber.
Regarding the events and legislation of James Stewarts reign regarding religious liberty. (image from wiki images)
FORTY PRIESTS (From O’Heyn’e Epilogus, p.18) IN 1602 forty priests of different religious Orders were put to death by drowning. This writer thus described the manner of their death: Turn, reader, and listen to a horrid crime. In the year 1602, Elizabeth, the instrument of hell, falsely styled Queen of England, published a decree suppressing all the monasteries in Ireland and confiscating their property. The monks of the Orders of St. Benedict and of St. Bernard, and others, presented a petition to her asking for a safe-conduct out of the kingdom. She consented readily, and ordered all to assemble in a certain island in the Shannon, called in Irish Innis catha, in English Scattery, fourteen leagues from Limerick. There were two aged Fathers of our Order, who were going out as agents to the Catholic Princes on behalf of Ireland, then in a state of ruin. Seven students, also of our Order, came there from the monasteries of Limerick and Kilmallock. One large ship of war was sent to transport them all. All went on board, and when they had reached the open sea, they were thrown overboard by order of that wicked woman. She imprisoned the captain and all the sailors and soldiers belonging to that vessel, to show to the world that she was innocent of so shameful a crime. Privately she told them that they should make no mention of her in connection with the business, and she recompensed them with a part of the property of the monasteries left by those who were drowned in this sacrilegious manner.’
(From Tanner’s Soc. Jesu Militans, p. 55) DOMINIC COLLINS, a man who displayed heroic courage both when serving in the armies of the kings of this world in France and Spain and when combating under the banner of the Cross in the Society of Jesus, was born at Youghal, of noble and illustrious parents, who were owners of a townland called Labranche. He was brought up very piously by his parents. When he reached manhood, he went to France, where, urged on by the generous ardour of youth, he resolved to adopt the profession of arms ; induced to do so also by the thought that in the army of the Most Christian King he would be fighting rather for Christ than for the King, for France was at this time in the flames of civil war, which heresy, always productive of sedition, had enkindled. Dominic served for five years against these sectaries who were bold enough to take up arms against the King and religion, and though only twenty-two years of age, he was much commended for his bravery and had the command of a company. When that war came to an end, he went in search of other service, and passed into Spain, where he was taken into the Catholic army of King Philip, and given a position suited to his birth and merits. He spent eight years in the important office of captain of marines, in a time that might be called peaceful, for it was not disturbed by a war of any length, during which he was stationed at Corunna, a port of Galicia. But though he had no external enemy to combat, he found within himself another to contend with. Wherefore he employed the time of peace not for rest but for a spiritual combat. To the frequent use of the sacraments he added the reading of pious books and meditation, by which means he conceived a great hatred of himself, and he set about subduing his body by mortification and as he continued this pious mode of life, he began by degrees to feel a desire to lead a life of still greater severity, and to view things of the other world in a different light. Nothing seemed to him high or exalted but what was of heaven on the other hand, everything that fortune holds out to ambitious minds seemed to him only worthy of contempt. Having made up his mind then to enlist under the banner of Christ as his leader, he examined the Orders fighting for Him. To see in which of them he would enrol himself. First he was attracted by the mortified life of the Discalced Franciscans, and by the strict observance of the Order of Preachers throughout Spain ; both these Orders, knowing his dispositions, would have conferred on him the Order of the priesthood. But having recommended the matter to God long and earnestly, and having weighted all the reasons carefully, he determined to enter the lowly Society of Jesus, and to ask admittance as a humble lay-brother, as though he was unworthy of the rank of a priest or unfit for it. He went to Compostella in a rich dress and surrounded by a large number of friends and servants suitable to his dignity and birth, and entered the noviciate there December 8th, 1598. All the Fathers thought he would not be able to undergo the duties and toil belonging to that condition, since he was more than thirty years of age, and all his life had been accustomed to every comfort that wealth could procure. He soon put an end to the misgivings concerning him which he saw expressed on their countenances. Before he had ended his first probation and had changed his secular dress for the religious habit, an infectious disease of a very violent kind suddenly broke out in the college. For two months he attended the sick most diligently, and sought out the lowest and meanest duties with as much eagerness as he had formerly coveted rank and dignities. He passed through all the tests of the noviciate and made his religious vows on February 4th, 1601. The next year he was appointed to accompany Father James Archer, who was to go with the fleet which the Catholic King was fitting out in aid of the Catholics of Ireland, under the command of Don Juan De Aguila. During the voyage he employed his zeal in caring both the bodies and souls of the sailors; attending on the sick night and day like a servant, and exhorting them to patience; urging on those who were in good health the practice of virtue, a horror of vice, and the use of the sacraments. Yet he did not allow himself to be wholly taken up or absorbed by these duties; but his soul was United with God just as if he was in the retirement of a college, and he continued his practices of mortification both on Shipboard and when he landed in Ireland, as if he had no external labours to perform. These voluntary mortifications prepared him, both soul and body, to meet the very great hardships and sufferings which he had to endure at the hands of the enemies of the faith. For soon after he landed at Dunboy Castle he was seized and put in chains by the heretics, contrary to the law of nations and in violation of their oath. For the besiegers had guaranteed the safety of all who defended the castle if they surrendered it, and had given a pledge, ratified by oath, into the hands of Dominic himself, who had proposed the terms of peace and was the messenger of the besieged. To have seized a Jesuit they supposed would save them from an indelible stain and from the crime of perjury. He was taken by a company of soldiers to Cork, his hands tied behind his back. There he was shut up in the common prison by order of Sir George Carew, the President of Munster, a most bitter enemy of the Catholics. He passed three months in this prison, awaiting the time of the assizes appointed for the trials of criminals, when he too was to be tried. Dominic would not appear in court in any other dress than the usual habit of the Society, in order that if any other reason for his seizure than his religion and faith was put forward, he might disprove it by his very dress. Mountjoy, the Viceroy of Ireland, who was presiding at the assizes, strove to win him over by making him great promises if he would enter the Queen’s service, even the chief command of a portion of the army. On the other hand, he threatened him with the greatest tortures, and even death, if he persevered in his resolution and refused to deny his faith and religion. His friends and relatives too, asked and besought him, for his own and his Sister’s sake, to temporize, and not to bring destruction on himself and disgrace on an illustrious family, telling him he might remain a Catholic at heart, and conform only outwardly, to please the whim of the Queen. But Dominic remained firm against threats and promises, and disregarding both alike, said he could not in so criminal a matter obey their advice or commands ; no matter what punishment they wished to inflict, however grievous the tortures they would employ, there was nothing that he was not ready to endure for God’s sake. Nor did his deeds fall short of his words. Mountjoy sentenced him to be hanged and disembowelled, his constancy in the faith being set down as a crime of high treason. Dominic returned to the prison full of joy, and awaited the time of his deliverance with delight. Mountjoy could not bear that this man full of God should enjoy such happiness, and in order that the days preceding his execution might be full of suffering, he ordered him to be put to the torture, a thing contrary to all human and divine law. He bore the fiercest torments as if they were a delight to him, and he was thankful for them as if they were special favours from heaven. The heretics, angered and maddened thereat, hastened the moment of his death. On the last day of October, 1602, showing no respect for the day, which was Sunday, they led him out to the gallows, his hands tied behind his back and a halter round his neck. When going out of the city he set before his mind the example of our Lord going from Jerusalem to Calvary, in order to bear these sufferings for Christ’s sake as he ought, and he walked along very modestly, his eyes fixed on heaven, his thoughts always intent on God. He saluted the gibbet with great affection, and when he came near it, he fell on his knees and kissed it, commending his sufferings to God. Then imitating the example of all the martyrs, he prayed for some time for his enemies, for the Queen, for the welfare of his native land, and with great alacrity and firmness he ascended the ladder. Standing on the topmost step, as if in a pulpit (for he was dressed in the ordinary habit of the Society), he began more zealously than every before to exhort the Catholics to preserve the faith with constancy till death, to be on their guard against the threats and promises of the Queen, the wrath of her ministers, and the wiles of the heretics, and he concluded thus: ‘Look up to heaven, and be not unworthy of your forefathers who boldly professed the faith. Do you too uphold it? In defence of it I offer up my life to-day.’ These were the last words spoken by Dominic ; they were most effective in encouraging the Catholics; uttered in that place and at that solemn moment by one of high birth who had shown contempt for worldly goods, they fell like a thunderbolt on the ears of the heretics. The officers perceiving this and fearing that the crowd might be still more confirmed in their hatred of heresy, ordered him to be thrown off the ladder. He was but a short time hanging on the gallows, and still breathing and his breast heaving, when the executioner, in punishment of his bold profession of the Catholic religion, cut open his body, and taking out his heart, held it up to the people uttering aloud the usual formula: ‘Long live the Queen.’ This last victim offered to God in Ireland preceded to the throne of God her who was guilty of so much innocent blood. The following night the Catholics gathered together his mangled limbs with great affection, and buried them in a chapel not far from the place where he suffered. In that chapel,’ says Nieremberg, ‘he is honoured by the veneration of the faithful, and as the Catholics affirm, he is glorified by God who works miracles there at his intercessjon.’ See also Fitzsimon, Rothe, O’Sullevan, Molanus, Imago S.J. Alegambe, Jouvency, and Nieremberg.
THIS priest, after lying concealed for a long time, was seized by the English and hanged at Cork during the reign of Elizabeth, about the time of the second Geraldine war.
(O’Sullevan’s Decas patric., fol. 164b) I LEARNED the rudiments of the Christian religion from him when I was a boy. At that time he was in Orders, though not a priest. He was hanged in Cork, and his entrails torn out and cast into the fire, in the year 1601.
THIS priest was a native of Connaught, and of noble birth. Having overcome various torments in defence of the Catholic faith, broken down by the noisomeness and hardships of the prison in which he was confined in the company of robbers, he gave up his soul to God on May 15th, 1601.
HE was born of a noble family, was a priest, and vicar of the diocese of Kilialoe. This brave soldier and truly apostolic pastor did not fear to expose his life to danger when the wild beasts were laying the vineyard waste, opposing the heretics by word and deed. He was seized by the heretical soldiers in a certain part of Ormond which he was visiting as pastor, his hands were tied behind his back as if he were a robber, and he was led on foot to Dublin, in the midst of heretical soldiers who were as wicked as those who crucified Christ. It is easy to imagine what hardships he suffered on the way. I have often heard an account of them from my mother Margaret Mollony, who was a near relative of the martyr, but for shortness’ sake I omit them here. On reaching Dublin he was cast into prison in the Castle, and the different instruments, the boots, the iron gloves, the rack, with which the English executioners used to torture the confessors of Christ, were set before his eyes. He was asked by the supreme judge whether he was ready to subscribe to the Queen’s laws and decrees made about religion ? O’Mollony, full of the spirit of God, answered boldly, that he was willing to obey these laws so far as they were in accord with the laws of God and the decisions of Christ’s Vicar on earth. The judge, more unjust than Pilate, replied that the Queen in her own kingdom was the sole vicar of Christ and Head of the Church. ‘You must accept her supremacy or suffer death.’ Mollony answered, ‘Either Paul, the teacher of the Gentiles, in his Epistle to the Corinthians, xiv., and to Timothy, ii., and Jesus Christ himself in his Gospels have erred frequently, or the Queen is not Christ’s Vicar.’ ‘Then you do not admit,’ said the judge, ‘that the Queen has, next after Christ, supreme authority in things spiritual?’ O’Mollony replied ‘I cannot admit in any way the supremacy of a woman, for women are forbidden to speak in the Church. Moreover, in defence of the opposite doctrine I am ready to endure the greatest torments and to lay down my life.’ Very well,’ said the judge; we shall see whether your deeds correspond with your words.’ About nine o’clock the next day the executioners put the iron gloves on his hands and the boots on his feet, and squeezed them so that the blood burst out. And as this torture failed, for Donough very often prayed to God, while it lasted, that with the aid of divine grace he might be found worthy to suffer such tortures for Christ’s sake, he was placed on the rack for two hours, and drawn SO that he was one span longer. All this time he was either praying or exhorting those who stood by to hold fast to that faith which is the sole way of salvation, and for which he did not hesitate to shed his blood and sacrifice his life. The executioners, moved even to tears by the patience and pious exhortations of the noble soldier, took him back to prison half-dead, by order of the wicked judge, where he died very piously a few hours after, April 24th, 1601.
HE was a native of Ulster and Bishop of Connor. (This is a mistake. He was appointed Bishop of Killala in 1545 and transferred to Derry in 1569. ) He was attacked at night in his own house by some English soldiers of the garrison of Lough Foyle, and with three other priests cruelly put to death. He was in his 9Oth year and in the 60th of his episcopate. A State Paper, dated July 28th, 1592, says: In Ulster is one Redmundus O’Gallagher, bishop of Derry, legate to the Pope and Custos Armaghnen, being one of the three Irish Bishops that were in the Council of Trent. (The three Bishops were Donald McCongail of Raphoe, Thomas O’Herlihy of Ross and Eugene O’Hart of Achonry.) This Bishop used all manner of spiritual jurisdiction throughout all Ulster, consecrating churches, ordaining priests, confirming children, and giving all manner of dispensations riding with pomp and company from place to place, as it was accustomed in Queen Mary’s days.’ (He received a faculty from the Pope to exercise a certain jurisdiction in Armagh during the Primate’s absence.) The Annals of the Four Masters under the date 1601, says Redmund O’Gallagher, bishop of Derry, was killed in Oireacht Ui Chathain.’ (O’Kane’s territory, which included the present baronies of Tirkeeran, Keenaght, and Dungiven, in Co. Derry) He was put to death on March 15th. The spot where he was slain is on the high road nearly midway between O’Kane’s Castle and Dungiven. See also Sander, Rothe, Copinger, O’Sullivan, Ward, Porter, and De Burgo.
(From Rothe’s Analecta, p. 387) HE was a priest from the village of Newtown, near Trim. This venerable old man, through hatred of his calling, was thrown Into the prison of Dublin Castle, where, worn out with suffering and misery, he ended his life.
HE was a citizen of Wexford. Being an earnest Supporter of the Catholic faith, he was denounced by spies not only for having given shelter to Catholic bishops and priests who were pursued, but also for conveying them to France and Spain. By order of Lord Grey, the Viceroy, he was taken to Dublin and imprisoned there, though he had already paid a very heavy fine. This excellent man, worn out by the filth and hardships of the prison, died in the Lord, December 4, 1600.
(From Molanus’ Idea, p. 71) THIS priest was a native of Kilkenny, and Vicar General of the diocese of Ossory. When old and decrepit, he was taken to Dublin by order of the Queen, to answer for Professing the Catholic religion. In the public court he made open profession of the Catholic faith. He was thrown into prison and suffered much there. While a prisoner, he exchanged this life of woe for eternal bliss in the year 1599. See also Rothe
HE was a Drogheda merchant, & when returning from France to Ireland he was driven by contrary winds into a harbour in the south of England. The Mayor questioned him about the spiritual supremacy of Elizabeth. Dowdall answered, as a Catholic should, that he recognized no other as Head of the Church than the Roman Pontiff. Because he had spoken thus, his merchandise was confiscated, and he was taken to Exeter, his hands bound behind his back as if he were a robber. There after being put to the rack, he was hanged and his body was cut into four parts ; and in this way, in return for temporal goods, this very wise merchant got in exchange eternal life. He suffered September 20th, 1600.
THIS priest was a native of Leinster. He was accused by the heretics of celebrating Mass. He was hanged and quartered by order of the cruel tyrant Marshal Burrowes, and so deserved to obtain a martyr’s crown September 4th, 1597.
HE was a native of Leinster, a priest, and a zealous preacher.
He was thrown into prison by order of the chief judge, and severely tortured by the executioners. Being then asked whether he would take the oath of Supremacy, he answered with great firmness, that he would rather die. The judge, Walter Raleigh, ordered Fernan to be put to the torture of the rack. The executioners had not been long engaged in this, when he exclaimed, 'Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit,’ and gave up his soul to his Creator March 12th 1597.
The Martyrdom of 3 Franciscan Friars from the Convent of Multyfarnham not far from Mullingar.
HE was the son of a citizen of Wexford. When he had nearly completed his studies at Louvain, he was obliged, through ill health, to return home. He was arrested at Bristol, examined, and asked to take the oath of Supremacy. He absolutely refused to stain his soul with such a perjury. In consequence he was sent to London. First, he was flogged through the streets by the executioner in a very cruel manner. Then, after enduring the horrors of Newgate prison for four months, he was put to the torture of the scavenger’s daughter, (An instrument of torture invented by Skeffington, Lieutenant of the Tower in the time of Henry VIII. It was a circle of iron, in which the whole body was, as it were, folded up, and the hands, feet, and head bound together), and under it gave up his soul to God, December 13th, 1590. (From Bruodin’s Propugnaculum, p. 457) See also Copinger.
The Martyrdom of Matthew O'Leyne of the Convent of Muskerry, (founded by Cormac láidir Mac Cárthaigh), whilst fleeing across the river Bride, on the 6th of March 1590.
On the Martyrdom under Elizabeth Tudor of Walter Ferrall OSF, of the Convent of Askeaton
50D Final Incarceration, persecution & assasination of Richard Creagh, Primate of All-Ireland
Re-capture, trial & escape from Dublin Castle of Richard Creagh, Primate of All-Ireland.
On the escape from the Tower of London of Archbishop Richard Creagh, the primate of All-Ireland.
The formation and early career of Archbishop Richard Creagh, up to his incarceration in the Tower of London.
The Martyrdom in London by imprisonment without food or water of the young Irishman, Mr Ailworth.
The martyrdom of Dame Eleanor Bermingham, remembered today as Margaret Ball at the hands of her son Walter.
The martyrdom of Roger Donellan, Charles Goran, Peter O'Chillian, Patrick O'Kenna, James Pillan & Roger O'Hanlon OSF.
Death through mistreatment whilst awaiting execution of Wexford priest Fr Richard Frinch.
The martyrdom after the siege of Dún an óir in 1580 of Laurence O'Moore, Oliver Plunkett, and William Walsh.
Martyrdom of Daniel O'Neilan O.S.F. in Youghal by being tied to the vane of a windmill and being repeatedly shot at
Unable to escape from the English due to their advanced age, they were martyred in Lislachtin near Ballylongford.
The Martyrdom of John O'Dowd JOHN O’DOWD, O.S.F. (From Wadding’s Annales Minorum, xxi. 208) In our convent of Elphin1, some English soldiers seized a certain priest of our Order and some other persons. They pressed a layman, who was one of their captives, to tell something of the plots which they said he had entered into with others against the Queen of England; but he protested he could tell nothing but the truth, and that there were no such plots. So they determined to hang him. He begged that he might first be allowed to make his confession to the priest. This they granted readily because they thought that if the priest was put to the torture, he would reveal what was told him. As soon as the confession was ended the layman was hanged, and then they asked the priest, who was also to be hanged, if he had learned anything of the business in the confession. He answered in the negative, and refused to make known anything which he might have heard in the sacred tribunal. They offered him life and freedom if he would reveal what he had heard, and threatened him with torture if he refused. He answered that he could not: Immediately they knotted a cord round his head, and putting a piece of wood through it, slowly twisted it so tight that at length, after he had endured this torment for a long time, his skull was broken in and his brain crushed. All this time he was praying to God and to the Blessed Virgin Mary. He died on the spot. I have seen and examined ocular witnesses of this fact, who were then serving in that body of English soldiers. But they did not remember the name of the friar or the exact year. It was about 1577. Ward gives 1579 as the date of his death.
Martyrdom of Tadhg O'Daly OSF (From Holing’s Compendium and Bruodin’s Propugnaculum, p. 437)
BROTHER TADHG O’DALY, a native of Kinvarra, and a monk of the Order of St. Francis, was seized by the heretics in the monastery of Askeaton, because he wore the habit of his Order and made open profession of the Catholic faith. He was led, as if he were a robber or a traitor, to Limerick, sixteen miles off. There he was stripped of his habit and cast into prison by order of Drury, the President of the province. After nine weeks, during which time he gave proofs of his attachment to the faith and of his constancy, he was brought to trial, many crimes being laid to his charge. But persevering in the confession of the Catholic faith, he was condemned to death by the verdict of twelve men, heretics and schismatics, because he would not admit that the Queen was Head of the Church. To all the promises and threats held out to him by the heretics, he replied with a smile, that no one on account of bodily torments or even death itself should separate himself from the friendship of God. ‘I care not,’ he used to say, ‘how you treat this mortal body of mine ; the Almighty God has given you no power to injure my soul.’ Again he was thrown into prison. There he was often visited by pious Catholics and by a certain holy priest, who obtained access to him in the dress of a layman ; from him he obtained absolution of all his sins and received the Blessed Eucharist. The heretics took him out of the prison, and binding his hands behind his back, had him tied to a horse’s tail and dragged through the streets. But he showing not sorrow but delight, repeated aloud with great devotion the hymn Te Deum laudamus.’ On the way to the place of execution, he besought his friends who accompanied him, to obtain from the heretics that he should be allowed to wear his religious habit at the time of his death. These laughed at the request; but they granted it after a way, and ordered that the habit should be hung up too on the beam by the side of his body. After he had hung for a short time, he was taken down half-alive. Many of those who were standing by expressly stated that the martyr’s head when cut off uttered these words distinctly : ‘Lord, show me thy ways.’ The fact is attested by F. John good, S.J., who was then in Limerick in his Theatre of Protestant and Catholic Religion. And so this brave soldier of Christ earned the palm of martyrdom on January 1st, 1579. O’Sullevan says another Franciscan, whose name, however, he does not mention, was put to death with him.
THOMAS MOERAN, DEAN OF CORK (From Molanus’ Idea, p. 66) He underwent great toil and hardships while the persecution was raging, in order to encourage the citizens of that very famous city. When engaged in the performance of the sacred functions, he fell into the hands of the persecutors, and so ended his life gloriously in the year 1578. He is buried in a marble tomb outside the choir of St. Peter’s church, Cork. See also Sander and Rothe.
SIMON LUTTRELL, ARCHDEACON OF MEATH . (Ibid., p.68) WHILE striving to protect the flock entrusted to his care from heresy, he was captured, and ended his life in prison. See also Sander and Rothe.
(From Bouchier’s Hist. De Martyrio FE Ordinis S.F.)
DR. O’HELY was a native of Connaught. From his early youth he was devoted to the practice of virtue. He entered the Order of St. Francis, and five years after his profession he was sent to Spain, by order of his superiors, that he might pursue his studies at the famous University of AIcalã. His talents were so great that he outstripped all his fellow-students. In 1575 he was called to Rome by the General of the Order, F. Christopher à Capite Fontis. While there, he resided in the Convent of Ara Coeli. He frequently petitioned the General to be allowed to return to his native country, in order to aid the Irish people then engaged in resisting the attacks of heresy. The report of his learning and virtues, and especially of his zeal for souls, reached the ears of Pope Gregory XIII., and in 1576 he was appointed to the See of Mayo,1 then vacant by the death of Dermot O’Deira. Some days after his consecration the Pope summoned him to his presence, commended to him with great earnestness the flock confided to his care, and bestowed on him a large sum of money for the wants of his mission. On his way to Ireland he passed through Paris, and during his short stay there he gave signal proofs of his talents and learning in the theological disputations which were held in the halls of the University. There news reached him from Ireland which would have deterred one less zealous than he from continuing his journey. But his desire to go among this flock, even at the risk of his life, grew stronger day by day. He set off from Brittany, accompanied by Cornelius O’Rourke,2 the eldest son of the Prince of Brefny3, who had abandoned the pleasures and enticements of the world in order to pass his life in humility and poverty in the Order of St Francis. They set sail, and after a dangerous voyage landed at Dingle, Co. Kerry. They were immediately recognized by spies, who were stationed along the southern coast. The sheriff seized them, and took them before the Countess of Desmond.4 The Earl, who was then absent, ruled over the southern part of the kingdom almost as a sovereign.5 She received the travellers with great kindness, the Geraldine family being at all times the chief patrons and protectors of the Franciscan Order. But not wishing to incur suspicion or to run any risk of losing the Queen’s favour, she sent a company of soldiers with O’Hely and his companion to Limerick, and bade them to be handed over to Goulden, who held some official position there, and was at all times most zealous in carrying out the Queen’s wicked purposes. He put them immediately into the common jail. A few days after they were taken to Kilmallock, twelve miles from Limerick, Where Drury, the President of Munster, a fierce persecutor of the Catholics,6then was. To display his zeal in his new office, for he had been appointed to it but a short time before, he ordered the prisoners to be chained still more securely and to be beaten with sticks. He then examined them. O’Hely replied for himself and for his companion too. ‘By God’s grace we are both priests and religious of the Order of St. Francis. Moreover, I am the Bishop of Mayo, having been appointed to that office and consecrated by the Supreme Head of the Church on earth, Gregory XIII., and I have been sent by him to Ireland to visit, and gather together, and feed with the word of Life the Catholic people confided to my care, and now scattered by the fury of the heretics. This is my calling and the cause of my return to my native country.’ ‘do you dare,’ asked Drury, ‘to assert, like a rebel, that the Pope is the Supreme Head of the Church in Ireland, notwithstanding the lawful decrees made by the Queen and parliament to the contrary?’ ‘If these laws were just,’ replied the Bishop, ‘they would not contradict what I say; and to prove the truth of my assertion, I am ready to suffer any torments you please and to lay down my life, if necessary.’ His companion answered in the same strain. Promises of wealth and honours were held out to them to induce them to change their resolution. They were threatened with torture and death, but to no avail. Drury, enraged at their answers, condemned them by martial law, without any legal formality, to be first put to the torture, and then to be hanged from a tree that was near.
His orders were executed faithfully. The two athletes of Christ were stripped; they were beaten with rods; they were then placed on the rack; sharp points and needles were thrust between the nails and the flesh, their fingers were cut off, their arms and feet beaten with hammers, and their thigh-bones broken. In the midst of these cruel tortures they exhorted each other to be patient and firm, they urged the Catholics who were present to perseverance, and they preached repentance to the heretics. Drury, who was at heart a Catholic, moved by their exhortations, yet feeling no real compunction for his crimes, thought of a plan by which he would save them from death. He sent one of his attendants, who knew the Irish language, to the Bishop, and asked him whether he would conform, at least outwardly, and obey the laws of the Queen. The Bishop sent him back word by the same messenger that he had now reached the time when he could not dissemble in matters of faith, and that he would be willing to endure a thousand deaths rather than deny publicly or privately what had been defined as true by the Church or subscribe to what was condemned. Drury again offered them rich benefices and positions of honour. As they paid no heed to his offer, he ordered the sentence to be carried out. They were taken from the rack and hanged with the girdles which they wore as a part of their religious habit, on the 22 of August, 1578.7 When the Bishop reached the top of the ladder, just before he was taken hold of by the executioner and thrown off, he called out to Drury, and warned him that within a very few days he should appear before the judgment-seat of God. Three days after he was seized by a disease which baffled all the skill of the physicians. When the malady was at its height he admitted that he had done wrong, and he declared openly that he was punished by God for the unjust sentence which he had pronounced against the Bishop. The bodies of the martyrs were kept hanging in chains. They were lowered so that their feet almost touched the ground, in order that they might be devoured by the wolves and wild dogs which abounded in the neighbourhood. Yet, to the wonder of everyone, they were not touched by these or by the birds of the air. Every day, however, they were made targets of by the heretical soldiers, one crying out, ‘I will hit the Pope’s Bishop in the head,’ and another, ‘I will strike his hand.’ During the whole fourteen days they were hanging in this way, it was remarked that the expression of their features remained unchanged ; it was calm and joyful as during life. Moreover, a fragrant odour issued from them. The people of the neighbourhood came in great numbers to the place, and took away with them pieces of their clothing. The Earl of Desmond ordered the bodies to be removed and buried with great honour at Clonmel, in order to atone in some measure for what the Countess, his wife, had done. Seventy years after, they were transferred, and deposited, together with the instruments of their torture, in the monastery of their Order at Askeaton.8 In F. Holing’s manuscript, Magna Supplicia, the following passage occurs in reference to Drury :- Anno 1577. William Drury, an Englishman, Viceroy of Ireland, was summoned by the Most Rev. Patrick Hely, of the Order of St. Francis, bishop (whom with his brother in religion he had condemned to death solely on account of his faith), before the judgment-seat of God to give an account of his deed. He was seized with a very violent disease, and died soon after mad and uttering blasphemies. On the day he was buried, there was such darkness, thunder, and lightning as Ireland never saw before or since.’9 In the book bearing the title Thetarum Crudelitatum Haereticorum, published at Antwerp in 1592, there is a print representing O’HeIy and his companion hanging from a cross beam.10 There is some uncertainty as to the precise year of his death. Some will have it to be 1577, others 1578, others in fine 1579. The date given above is that most commonly accepted. See also the Annals of Loch Ce, Gonzaga, Harpsfield, Sander, Bozius, Verstegan, Bridgewater, Fitzsimon, Rothe, O’Sullevan, Molanus, Ward, Wadding, O’DaIy, Bruodin, Lynch, Porter, and Hueber. _____________________________ 1. See Bede’s Hist. Ecci. Ang., v.4, and Lanigan’s Eccl.Hist of Ireland, iN.79, for an account of its foundation. Its last Bishop was Adam Magauran, appointed in 1585. It is now united toTuam. 2. The Annals of Loch Cé say he was the son of Brian, son of Eoghan O’Ruairc, ii. 427. 3. Now Co .Leitrim. 4. Daughter of Edmund, Lord Dunboyne. After the death of the Earl of Oesmond, she married O’Conor Sligo. There is a mural monument erected to her and O’Conor Sligo in the Dominican priory of Sligo. 5. Earl Gerald 6. He was appointed President of Munster in 1576, and held that office for three years. In the second year of his office he hanged 400 persons by justice and martial law.’ Webb’s Irish Biography. 7. O’Rourke was visited in prison the night before his execution by the famous F.James Archer, S.J., who afterwards described him ‘as being comely of feature, kindly in his address, young in years ; he had hardly reached his thirtieth year.’ See Triumphalia S. Crucis. p. 257 8. Founded in 1420 by James 6th Earl of Desmond. See Meehan’s Franc. Mon., p.96 9. 2 Spic. Ossor., iii.25.
Edmund Tanner, Bishop of Cork He was a native of the city of Cork.1 He lived for some years in the Society of Jesus, and during that time made extraordinary progress in virtue; but after some years, owing to illness, he left the Order, with the full consent of the Fathers.2 He was appointed Bishop of Cork3 November 5th 1574. But hardly had the burthen of the episcopate been laid on him, when he was taken to Dublin and imprisoned there for having opposed the unjust laws of the Queen. While in prison he was tortured in divers ways, and more than once he was hung up for two hours, while his hands were tied behind his back with a rope. Broken with these and various other sufferings, he went to receive the reward of his labours on the 4th of June, 1578, after an imprisonment of eighteen months. See also Holing, Rothe, Copinger, and Lynch. _______________________________ 1.In a papal document in the Irish Ecci. Record, 6. 147, he is said to have been a native of the (ecclesiastical) province of Dublin. 2.Through great sickness and not without the licence of his superiors, and the advice of physicians, he was enforced to come forth out of the Society.’ Lynch, De Pres. Hib., ii. 612 3.See Brady’s Epis. Succession, ii.86, and Irish Ecci. Record, i.316
David Hurley, Dean of Emly BECAUSE he defended the authority of the Church with great firmness, and asserted that the apostolic ceremonies should be retained and the novelties of the heretics rejected, he was frequently sought after by the emissaries of the Queen. At length he was seized and cast into prison. He died there. See also Sander, Bridgewater, and Molanus
THE first was the son of that well-known man, John O’Hara, chief of his very extensive family and owner of large possessions1 in the County of Sligo in the province of Connaught. The territory of the O’Haras was Luigne, conterminous with the present diocese of Achonry, comprising Parts of counties Mayo, Roscommon and Sligo. Burning with love for the life of poverty such as Christ led, he entered the Order of the Friars Minors in the 21st years of his age, and wished to be considered the lowest among the lay brothers in it. During the many years that he lived in religion, he made such progress in virtue that he was reckoned among the most obedient and humble brothers and those most famed for holiness of life of the whole Province of Ireland; and with good reason, for he observed the rule of St. Francis given to him by God so exactly up to the very moment of his death, that he was never seen to transgress it in the slightest way. Adorned with various virtues and praised by all for them, he fell into the hands of the heretics then raging throughout Connaught, not far from the convent of Killala,2 where he was begging for the necessaries of life for the brothers. These tyrants, through hatred of the faith, first hanged and then quartered him. They did the like to his companion Brother Henry Delahayde, called O’Lahaye by some writers, who was born of noble parents in Leinster. These two martyrs suffered for the Catholic religion May 1582. Formerly I lived on terms of intimacy with the grand-nephew of the martyr Brother Phelim, that famous soldier John O’Hara, the eldest of his family, who was married to Mathilda O’Higgin, the daughter of noble parents, Thaddeus O’Higgin, lord of Cuirehil, and Finola Bruodin, who played a very important part in the last war against the heretical Parliamentarians. I often heard this relative of mine describe at length the religious life and glorious death of this athlete of Christ, Phelim the martyr. Mooney, in his Description, gives some further details of OHara’s death - ‘In the year 1578 the English heretics made an expedition to the convent of Elphin,3 in the town of the same name, and approach some of them escaped in a boat. The Provincial, who was there at the time, asked who for the merit of holy obedience would remain alone in the monastery. Phelim O’Hara, a laybrother, was chosen out of the many who offered themselves, partly because he was prudent and far advanced in years, and partly because it was hoped he would be less obnoxious than the others. Wherefore he received the blessing and remained behind. But the English coming despoiled the altar and sanctuary, and slew this brother in front of the high altar. They did not dare to remain there long, but departed the same day. The other brethren, who had fled, and who had remained out at sea waiting, on returning home, found the brother, who had become a martyr through obedience, before the high altar, where it was supposed he was praying, when, on the approach of the enemy, he gave up his soul to God. He is buried in the chapter-house.
See also Gonzaga, Copinger, O’Sullevan, Ward, Wadding, and Hueber. __________________________ 1.* The territory of the O’Haras was Luigne, conterminous with the present diocese of Achonry, comprising Parts of counties Mayo, Roscommon and Sligo.
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- Moyne, which is two miles SE. of Killala, Co. Mayo, on the western bank of the Moy. It was founded in 1460 by Thomas Oge De Burgo. See Mon. Hib., p.507, and Meehan’s Franc. Monasteries, p.55
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- Rather Moyne, as we learn from Bruodin and the other authorities quoted here.
HUGH LACY, was chosen Bishop of Limerick while Henry VIII was still obedient to the Church. When the King apostatized, he could not induce Hugh to join in his rebellion or to stain himself by subscribing to this supremacy. Wherefore not only did he lose the King’s favour, but he was deprived first of his revenues and afterwards of his bishopric. When the King could effect nothing by these means, he had Lacy shut up in a noisome prison in Cork, the filth of which almost caused his death. When he was released from his imprisonment he returned to Limerick, to his flock, which had been scattered by the attacks of the English wolf. As the evil grew in strength during the last years of Henry’s reign and under the sway of Seymour, the Calvinist, who governed the kingdom for Edward VI., the persecution was renewed against Hugh. Wherefore, he fled to that Catholic country France. When Mary ascended the throne, he was called back by Cardinal Pole, to the great delight of all the diocese. When he was over sixty years of age, Elizabeth, like a wild beast, began to lay waste the vineyard of the Lord. Lacy, full of the spirit of God, was again driven from his See, deprived of all the means necessary or his support, and cast into prison, because he would not take the oath of Supremacy. He died on the 26th March, 1577. The date given by Rothe, 1580, is most probably, the correct one, for Holinshed says, Lacy was upon some suspicions committed prisoner to his own house in 1579, and his successor was appointed in 1582.