During the month of December I plan to explore the theme of 'Mass in the Penal Times', for although we will be celebrating the bicentenary of Catholic Emancipation in 2029, the era of persecution which began at the end of the seventeenth century continues to resonate in the Irish Catholic psyche, evoking an image of Mass rocks, hunted priests and heroic resistance by laypeople prepared to risk everything that their faith might survive. I hope to explore some of the realities behind this romantic imagery, but we will begin with an historical overview of the subject by Father Ambrose Coleman, O.P. The writer was born in England to Irish parents in 1858 and entered the Dominican Order in 1874. He was a regular contributor to the religious press and produced a number of books including a translation of Father John O'Heyne's 1706 work
. Father Coleman delivered the paper below to the 20th International Eucharistic Congress held in Cologne in August, 1909 and there are some interesting specific cases contained within it. There is the former Bishop of Raphoe who died in 1861, for example, who recalled that as a child he had acted as a lookout for priest hunters while Mass was taking place in the open-air. Then there is 'the Ark of Carrigaholt', a structure on wheels shaped like a Victorian bathing hut, which ingeniously circumvented the opposition of Protestant landlords to the holding of the Mass for the tenants on their estates in West Clare in the 1850s. If nothing else, Father Coleman's paper makes it clear that there is more to Mass in the Penal Times than simply Mass Rocks and priest hunters as he covers a range of places and circumstances in which the Mass was held, some of which even survived long after the repeal of the penal legislation:
MASS IN IRELAND IN THE PENAL TIMES.
BY THE REV. AMBROSE COLEMAN, O. P.
[The
following description of the dangers and difficulties under which Mass
was celebrated in Ireland in the Penal Days, was one of the papers read
at the recent Eucharistic Congress in Cologne.]
It is a remarkable
historical fact that for two hundred and twenty-two years the holy
sacrifice of the Mass was forbidden by law in Ireland, and it is an
equally remarkable fact that during that long period of persecution the
holy sacrifice never ceased to be offered up in every part of the land.
No other country in the world can point to such a glorious record. In
other countries, it is true, penal legislation against the Mass existed
for an equally long period, but with the important difference that in
some of them, such as Norway and Sweden, the faith was completely
stamped out of the people after two or three generations, and in others,
such as England, only a remnant of the people remained Catholic to the
end; whereas the Irish people were just as Catholic to the end of the
period as they were at the beginning, patiently bearing all the
disabilities incurred by reason of their religion, a nation enslaved at
the hands of a handful of bigoted Protestants, who possessed all power,
influence, and wealth. In 1781, when the Penal Code first began to be
relaxed, the whole population of Ireland, then estimated at two and
three-quarter millions, was Catholic, with the exception of English,
Scotch, and Continental Protestant settlers; while in England, at the
same date, out of a population of six millions, there were only about
sixty thousand Catholics, some thousands of whom were Irish immigrants.
England for the two centuries previous had been a Protestant nation;
Ireland had remained as it remains to the present day a nation of
Catholics.
First Efforts to Protestantize Ireland.
The first endeavor to
plant Protestantism into Ireland was made in the reign of Edward VI
under the euphemism of introducing the English Liturgy. That this meant
the banning of the Mass was clearly seen by the then Catholic Primate,
George Dowdall, who made a vigorous stand for some time for the true
faith, and then left the country in disgust, saying that he " Wolde
never be bushope where th'olie masse was abolished." The attempt was an
utter failure, and on Queen Mary ascending the throne shortly afterwards
the old religion was restored. It is to Queen Elizabeth that we must
attribute the introduction of Protestantism in a permanent form into
Ireland. In 1559 the Act of Uniformity was passed, or supposed to have
been passed, in a packed Parliament in Dublin. By this Act, the Book of
Common Prayer was made obligatory on all the clergy and people, and all
"Popish rites and superstitions," meaning, of course the holy sacrifice
of the Mass, were forbidden by law. The Act remained in force in
Ireland, with the exception of the short reign of James II till 1781
- that is, for a period of two hundred and twenty-two years.
"Mass
Houses" in Elizabeth's reign.
The immediate effect of the Act was to
drive the Bishops and priests out of all the churches of the country,
except in the remote parts, where Elizabeth's power was not felt.
Their places were taken by a crowd of horse-boys, laborers, shoemakers,
and others, many of whom could not even read, who acted as nominal
ministers, and were supposed to perform divine service.
The clergy, seeing the people deprived at one stroke of all their
places of worship, were forced to begin the practise of saying Mass in
private houses, and of converting barns, stables, and ordinary cottages
into chapels. These were known in Elizabeth's time, and down almost to
our own days by the name of "Mass-houses," and the priests are referred
to in the State papers as ''massing-priests."
Persecution in the
Reign of James I.
On the death of Elizabeth the Catholics were filled
with the hope that they should enjoy toleration under her successor
—James I, son of the saintly Mary Queen of Scots. And so they took
possession of many of the churches that remained, and began to say Mass
in them. This did not escape the vigilant eye of the Lord President of
Munster. Writing from Waterford, he says:— "Masses infinite they have in
their several churches every morning without any fear. I have spied
them, for I chanced to arrive last Sunday, at five o'clock in the
morning, and saw them resort out of their churches by heaps." The hopes
of the Catholics were doomed to disappointment, and a most vigorous
persecution followed for the next few years. Some years later a
proclamation was issued against the clergy, the Lord Deputy intimating
that the "late intermission of legal proceedings against them has bred
such an extraordinary insolence and presumption in them that he was
necessitated to charge and command them in his Majesty's name to forbear
the exercise of their Popish rites and ceremonies." The Lord Deputy
complains in a letter to Primate Ussher, that this proclamation was ill
observed.
The Iron Days Of Cromwell.
During the terrible Cromwellian
regime, when three-fourths of the country was parcelled out among the
English soldiers and adventurers, and the great bulk of the people were
driven into Connacht, the poor Catholics never showed greater constancy
in their religion. Even in that awful period they heard Mass on every
opportunity that offered. A letter from a Capuchin Father, who visited
several of his brethren at that time, throws a remarkable light on the
situation. A pathetic instance of the hardships borne by the priests at
the time is that of an old Dominican Father, who during the Cromwellian
period, had to hire himself out to one of the English planters as a
shepherd. Exposed in this occupation to all the vicissitudes of the
weather, he completely lost his sight, and then attired as a common
beggar, with a wallet on his back, and led by a little boy, the poor old
man, reverenced as a messenger from God, made his way from house to
house, spending the last days of his life hearing the confessions of the
people and consoling them in their afflictions.
A Rift in the Clouds.
Not until
1782 was the Act of Uniformity, the principal weapon all along in the
hands of the Persecutors, virtually repealed by an Act of Parliament
(21-22 George III) by which priests, on taking the oath of allegiance,
and registering their names, ages, and places of abode, were allowed to
exercise their priestly office without being subject to the penalties of
previous years. But the Act restricted them "from officiating in any
church or chapel with a steeple or bell, or at any funeral in a church
or churchyard, or from exercising any of the rites or
ceremonies of the Popish religion, or wearing the habits of their order,
save within their usual places of worship or in private houses, or from
using any symbol or mark of ecclesiastical dignity or authority." The
immediate effect of the Act was the building of churches and chapels
without steeples or bells, in more open places than formerly, most of
which have long since disappeared to make way for the noble
ecclesiastical structures we see everywhere around us in Ireland.
Intolerance of Bigoted Landlords.
But it must not be thought that by the
passing of this Act of Parliament all the difficulties consequent on
Catholic worship were at an end. The bigoted and intolerant Protestant
landlords, who possessed practically all the land in the country, could
not be induced, in numberless instances, to grant sites for Catholic
churches and chapels, and very often in the lease given to Catholic
tenants there was a clause against the sub-letting of any land for the
purpose of building any Catholic place of worship or a Catholic school.
Again, in the Protestant part of the North, which had just seen the
formation of the aggressive Orange Society, based on deadly hatred of
everything Catholic, it was impossible to build even a humble chapel for
fear of its being wrecked or set on fire. The Most Rev. Patrick
M'Gettigan, who died Bishop of Raphoe in 1861, used to relate that in
his childhood he was often placed on the summit of a high rock to signal
the approach of the priest-hunters, whilst in an adjoining hollow the
parishioners were assembled around the temporary altar on which the Holy
Sacrifice was offered up. As he advanced in years he became one of the
acolytes whose duty it was to hold the candles in their hands, and
prevent them from being blown out by the wind, for there were no
candlesticks on the open-air altars of those days. As another instance,
coming home to ourselves, I may refer to the case of my own maternal
grandmother, who, when a child, had to hear Mass every Sunday and
festival in a field in all weathers with the rest of the parishioners,
while a priest said Mass in a hut in front, the people having to endure
this hardship because no landlord would give a site for a chapel. This
parish, I am glad to add, possesses at the present day one of the finest
parish churches in Ireland.
The Ark of Carrigaholt.
To give another
instance: I am well acquainted with a gentleman, a prominent merchant of
the South of Ireland, who as a boy used to serve Mass regularly in what
was known as the "Ark of Carrigaholt." This was a structure, built as a
traveling van on wheels, with large glass windows all round, through
which the priest and altar could easily be seen. It was devised as the
only possible means of enabling the people of the parish of Carrigaholt
to hear Mass. The local landlords were so bigoted that none of them
would allow a chapel to be built on their lands, and prosecuted and
evicted tenants who allowed Mass to be said even in a temporary shelter
for the priest. The van was forbidden to enter any of the lands occupied
by the tenants: hence the only place where the people, comprising
several thousands, could hear Mass was at the cross-roads, the Ark being
placed at the junction of the roads, and the people kneeling in four
distinct groups along the four roads.
The present
illustrious Archbishop of Sydney, his Eminence Cardinal Moran, devoted
several years both in Ireland and in Australia to embody in his
historical writings the living traditions that linger round these humble
monuments of Penal days. No other historian has done half so much as he
has to illustrate the ecclesiastical history of the times of
persecution.
Only Mud Huts Tolerated.
In 1731 an order was issued by the
Privy Council in Dublin to all the Protestant Bishops to send in an
account of all the Mass-houses and Popish schools in their diocese, and
the number of priests and friars officiating therein. Very detailed
reports, from which we can gather a mass of interesting information,
were sent in by them, and are to be found in the Irish Record Office,
Dublin. Only mud huts were tolerated as places of worship, and where,
owing to the rancor and aggressiveness of local magistrates, these were
thrown down, the people had to betake themselves once more to the rock
altars and the fields.
A virulent persecution arose in 1744, owing to
the invasion of Scotland by Prince Charles Stuart. Many priests were
thrown into prison: others fled to Dublin, and Mass had to be celebrated
once more in holes and corners. This state of things lasted for nearly a
year, when a disastrous accident touched the heart of the Lord
Lieutenant and moved him to allow the quasi-public celebration of Mass
once more. The accident, which resulted in the death of a priest and
nine other people, came from the giving way of the floor of a garret in
Dublin, where the people had assembled secretly to hear Mass.
Owing to
the enormous increase of the population during the first part of the
last century, and their abject poverty, the small chapels were able to
contain only a small proportion of those who came to hear Mass.
Montalembert, the illustrious French Catholic writer, who visited
Ireland in 1729, vividly described the profound impression made on him
by the devotion of the people at Mass regardless of the weather. Five
years after Montalembert's visit, a public meeting of the Catholics of
the Diocese of Killala sent a petition to the House of Commons, setting
forth, amongst other things, that "in this diocese alone upwards of
30,000 souls are obliged on every Sunday to hear Mass under the canopy
of Heaven."
A Relic of the Past.
A relic of the penal times are the
Stations which are still held regularly in the houses of the people in
some of the dioceses of Ireland. I once took part in one myself with the
parish priest. At an early hour we made our way to the house, a poor
cottage of two rooms, preceded by the clerk, carrying the altar requisites.
We there found several of the neighbors already waiting for confession.
The kitchen table was turned into an altar, and the parish priest and I
were soon seated on chairs hearing the confessions of all who presented
themselves. Then each of us said Mass in turn and gave Holy Communion.
When the religious function was over the people came up one and one and
made their half-yearly offering. Devout people of other lands might
fear that these sordid surroundings might lead to a lack of reverence
towards the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, but such is by no means the
case, and I can bear witness that I never came across a more devout
congregation. Many priests have to spend three or four months of
the year holding Stations from house to house in their parishes.
Irish
Devotion to the Blessed Sacrament.
One other instance of the piety of
the people at Mass in the real Irish parts of the country and I have
done. I was once saying Mass in one of the islands off the West coast
when, at the Elevation, there was a general murmur among the
congregation. Having been always used to profound silence at that solemn
moment I was at a loss to account for it, but learnt afterwards that it
was the custom of the people to welcome aloud the coming of Our Lord in
their midst, using the old Irish greeting— Ceud mile failte, "A hundred
thousand welcomes." The devotion to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, so
remarkable in Penal times, is not less so at the present day. The
churches are all crowded on Sundays, and the absentees are few and far
between. Would that that could be said of other Catholic countries.
The
Irish as Church Builders and Maintainers.
"Another lesson learned in
Penal times was that of supporting the needs of religion. At present the
generosity of the Irish in supporting their priests, in building
churches, in keeping up charitable institutions, is proverbial, not only
as regards Ireland itself, but every country in which our people have
set foot. It is the pence of the Irish poor that have built up most of
the churches in England. It is the Irish emigrants that have built
three-fourths of the churches in the United States, and all the churches
in Australia and South Africa. Who could think that the down-trodden
peasants—who worshiped for centuries in fear and trembling around the
rock altars and in front of the mud-walled Mass-houses —could ever rise
to take such a glorious part in the spreading of the Gospel through the
world as they have done in the past century? Truly the ways of God are
wonderful!
, Volume 42, Number 14, 25 September 1909, pp. 8-9.
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