therefore, and follow me while I dictate as well as I can, the history of the Monastery of Moyne, as I have learnt it from antient records, and also from the lips of those who witnessed its latest vicissitudes.

"In the year 1460, Nehemias O'Donoghoe, the first provincial-vicar in Ireland of the Observantine order of St. Francis, memorialed Mac William Burke to grant him a piece of land in Tyrawley, whereon he might erect a monastery for a community of the reformed order of Franciscans. Mac William gave willing ear to the provincial's prayer, and told him that he was at liberty to select any site he chose within the borders of his territory for the church and convent he was about to build. Indeed Mac William could not refuse any request coming from such a man as the provincial O'Donoghoe, for he was famed throughout all Ireland as an eloquent preacher and a friar of most exemplary life; so much so that his name is recorded with special praise in the Book of Adair.* After examining various localities within the limits of Mac William's principality, O'Donoghoe pitched on a spot in the barony of Tyrawley, at a short distance from the antient episcopal city of Killala; and no sooner had he made the selection, than Mac William, accompanied by his subordinate chieftains, warriors, bards, and brehons, proceeded to lay the first stone of the new church and monastery. No words of mine could adequately describe the beauty of the site which the provincial chose for the buildings. Let it suffice to tell you that it was a sweet verdant plain crowning a gentle eminence, at whose foot the silvery Moy discharges its waters into the bay of Killala, right opposite a sandy ridge called by the natives of the place the Island of Bertragh or Bertigia. Within an incredibly short time willing hearts and sturdy hands erected the church and monastery from the foundations; and in the year 1462 Donatus O'Connor, bishop of Killala, consecrated the new church under the invocation of St. Francis. The exquisite beauty of the architecture of both church and monastery was the theme of every tongue, and the rich display of ornamentation in the tracery of the windows, and the coupleted pillars of the cloister even to this day attest, that the men who executed the work were thoroughly skilled in their craft, and enthusiastic cultivators of art in its every department. The entire of the edifice, even to the very altars, was constructed of oolite, or that stone so like marble which is composed of petrified sea-shells, and what is no less remarkable, the mortar used in the building was made of burnt shells, which, as the fact proves, is the most binding description of cement that can be found. In sooth, it was a beautiful and spacious building, that most solemn church near the mouth of the Moy; and oh, how this poor old heart throbs when I recall the glorious propect which presented itself to my eyes when first I scended the massive square tower, ninety feet high, hat springs from the gable ends forming the choir and have of the holy edifice. There was the great Atlantic

Not known now.

rolling its crested billows against the granitic headlands, and from the same eminence I could see the time-worn belfry of the antient cathedral of Killala, and that old wizard-tower, whose origin and use must ever remain shrouded in * mystery. Never, never shall the impressions of that splendid prospect fade from my memory. As soon as the building of the church and monastery was completed, Mac William caused the entire to be enclosed with a strong stone wall, and he also endowed the friars with some acres of good pasturage, and empowered them to erect mills for grinding corn, and also sundry ponds in order that they might never lack fish. Nor should I omit to mention, that there is within the said enclosure a never-failing spring of wholesome limpid water, which sweeps so impetuously to the sea that the mills could never be idle when there was corn to be ground. Apart from the picturesque, surely never was site more happily chosen for a convent of our order. Ships, heavily laden, discharged their cargoes almost under the windows of the infirmary, and when the tide ebbed one might walk, without wetting foot, to the island of Bertragh. In fact there was no commodity of life wanting to our friars as long as they were allowed to live peaceably in Moyne. Their gardens and orchards supplied them with vegetables and fruit, their ponds with fish, the beach with crustacea, the island of Bertragh with succulent rabbits, and as for wine, did not the Spanish caravels come freighted with it into the neighbouring harbour of Killala? It has been asserted, I know not on what authority, that the church and convent of Moyne were founded by the Barretts before the latter were driven out by the De Burgos; and others have affirmed, that Father Nehemias O'Donoghoe merely took possession of the place in obedience to a mandate of Pope Nicholas V. In my opinion neither of these statements is true; and I am sustained in what I have said of the founder, and the date of the foundation, by various antient records which I have examined carefully. As for Nehemias O'Donoghoe, his death is recorded in the Book of Adair as having occurred in the year 1500.

"Like the monastery of Donegal, and other houses of our institute in Ireland, Moyne possessed a valuable library, for it was during a century and a half the provincial school which all the aspirants for our habit were wout to frequent. Hence, in times anterior to the dissolution of the religious houses, the community of Moyne never numbered less than fifty friars, including priests, professors in the various departments of literature, students, and lay-brothers.

"In the crypts of Moyne are interred many of the great families of Tir-eragh, and Tirawley, whose gorgeous monuments I have seen in the church. The O'Dowds, once potent lords of the fair lands, extending from the river Robe to the river Codnagh at Drumcliff, now moulder in the vaults of Moyne side by side with the

*The questio vexata relative to the origin and purposes of these towers, has been definitely settled by Dr. Petrie, in his erudite work on the "Ecclesiastical Architecture of Ireland."

De Burgos, the Barretts and the Lynotts, whose forefathers came from Wales to Tirawley, in the evil days of Dermod Mac Murrough. Indeed, so devoted were the O'Dowds to the order of St Francis, that many and many a chief of that martial race, renounced the world for the austerities of Moyne, and died there in the habit of our order. Thus in 1538, Owen O'Dowd, after having been thirty years chief of his name, died a mortified friar in that venerable monastery, and at a later period another Owen O'Dowd, a chieftain far famed for many a warlike deed, and his wife Sabia, daughter of Walter De Burgo, were interred in the same ancestral sepulchre.*

"In the thirty-seventh year of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, one Edmond Barrett had a grant of the monastery, and all its appurtenances, to hold the same for ever, at an annual rent of five shillings per annum; but when I visited the place (in 1606) I found that it was in the possession of an English widow, who let the church, and a few cells of the monastery, to six of our friars. Be it told to the honour of the most noble Thomas De Burgo, that he not only contributed to the maintenance of the little community, but also paid annually the sum for which the friars rented the place from the widow. The whole neighbourhood was then thickly planted with English and Scotch settlers, and although I appeared among them in the habit of my order, they gave me a cordial welcome, and as far as I could learn, they invariably treated the friars with marked kindness. This, however, was not from a love of our religion, but from sheer worldly prudence; for as those Scotch and English settlers carried on an extensive trade in fish and other commodities with the natives, they knew right well that they were only consulting their own interests, by suffering the friars to live there unmolested, as the people of the whole district, for many miles round, were in the habit of resorting to the monastery on Sundays and holidays. In a word, to drive away the friars would have been to sacrifice the gains on which those greedy adventurers were so intent. I found both church and monastery in good condition, for the people, notwithstanding all they had to suffer, contributed generously towards the repairs of the entire edifice.

"But heart-rending indeed were the accounts which I heard from some of the old people, who had witnessed the atrocities perpetrated by the English soldiers within the precincts of the church and monastery, during Queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Fitton was president of Connaught. I give you the story as I heard it, for I think that incidents of the sort should be transmitted to posterity.

"In the year 1577, a detachment of Fitton's soldiers garr soned the convent, and having made prisoners of some distinguished individuals, supposed to be dis

affected to the Queen, they threatened one of them with instant death, if he did not reveal a conspiracy in which they said he was implicated. The accused denied that he was cognizant of any plot, and no sooner had he made this declaration, than the English commander ordered him to be hung. At this terrible crisis, the prisoner implored permission for one of our friars to hear his confession, and the request was granted by the commanding officer, who fancied that he would be able to indues the confessor to reveal the secrets of the doomed man. In this, however, he was disappointed, and when he found that he could not persuade the priest to violate the sacramental seal, he caused him to be put to death withia the very precincts of the church. I had the account of this flagitious transaction from some who were eye-witnesses of it, and who, as they themselves openly acknowledged, had assisted at the execution, and came to me begging absolution and penance.

"On another occasion, that is to say in 1578, it was notified to the community of Moyne, that a marauding party of the English was about to make a raid on the monastery, and on hearing this, the friars resolved to save their lives by making out to sea in boats that were moored hard by. One vencrable lay-brother, however, named Felix O'Hara, refused to quit the place, alleging that the English would not harm one so aged as he, and that his presence might induce them to respect the holy place. At length the soldiers arrived, plundered the church, and then made off with their booty. some time had elapsed the friars returned to Moyne, and on entering the church they found O'Hara dead, and bathed in his blood on the steps of the grand altar, where the sacrilegious English had wantonly murdered him. So much for the venerable monastery of Moyne, which I trust in God will one day revert to its rightful owners.

After

"A few miles south-east of Killala, Rosserrick, another of our monasteries, sees itself reflected in the waters of the Moy. It was founded early in the fifteenth century by a chieftain of the Joyces, a potent family of Welsh extraction, singularly remarkable for their gigantic stature, who settled in West Connaught in the thirteenth century, under the protection of the O'Flalierties. Rosserrick occupies the site of a primitive Irish oratory, and the place derives its name from Searka, a holy woman, who is said to have blessed the Ross or promontory that runs out into the river. The site indeed was happily chosen, and the entire edifice is an exquisite specimen of the architect's skill. The church and monastery are built of a compact blueish stone, and the former is surmounted by the graceful square bell-tower, so peculiar to all our Irish Franciscan houses. The view from the summit of that campanile is truly enchanting, and as for the internal requirements of such an establish ment-its cloisters, library, dormitory, refectory and schools, the munificence of the Joyces left nothing

to be desired."

By no means," replied the Provinical, "for Rosserrick belonged to the Third order of St. Francis, which counted well nigh fifty houses in various parts of Ireland. Most of them date their erection in the fifteenth century, those especially of Killybegs, Kil-O-Donel, and Magheribeg (near our great monastery of Donegal) which were founded by the O'Donels, and their tributary chieftains. The friars of these houses lived in community, observed strict discipline, discharged pastoral duties, such as attending the sick and dying in the immediate neighbourhood, and devoted themselves to educating the youth of the circumjacent districts. Such was the rule of the Tertiaries of St. Francis, and, indeed so solicitous were the heads of the great families, the O'Donels and Mac Swynes of Fanat, for example, for the education of their people, that they took special care to settle large endowments on the houses of the Third order, which, I need hardly tell you, were always subject to the control of our generals and provincials. The Tertiaries, indeed, did good service in Ireland, for the liberality of the native princes enabled them to diffuse learning among the poorer classes, who were always addicted to book lore. I myself have met peasant lads educated in those schools, who were as familiar with Virgil, Horace, Homer, and other classic writers, as they were with the genealogies of the Milesian princes. 'Tis almost superfluous to tell you that the good fathers of those venerable houses reared their scholars in unalterable hatred to the principles of the new religion, which, under the pseudonym of Reformation, has laid its sacrilegious hands on all that once was ours. Rosserrick, too, shared the hard fate of the other religious houses, and when I visited it, its roof had fallen in, thus exposing the claborate carvings of the windows, and the fine tracery of the coupleted cloister to the pitiless rain and storm, that will wreak their rage on both till better times dawn for Ireland. Alas, alas, the hope I cherished of seeing the advent of such a day, has long since faded from my heart, and I myself, like the edifices of which we are discoursing, have grown to be a very ruin―weak, hoary and tottering. It is a digression, but I may as well tell you that, ever since the September of 1603, I abandoned all hope of seeing Ireland and our holy order rescued from the misfortunes that have fallen heavily on both; for in that fatal year we lost the only one who could perhaps, have reversed our destiny."

"And who was he?" demanded Father Purcell. "Who?" replied the provincial; "who, but Hugh Rufus O'Donel, who, when all seemed lost in the disaster of Kinsale, hastened away to Spain to implore aid for Ireland in that hour of her direst need. Alas! that aid never came, and he who went to seek it found an untimely grave in our monastery at Valladolid. On him my hopes were based, and with him they lie buried-—_—_—__”›

'Father," interrupted Purcell, "every one has heard of the achievements of that great chieftain; but I'd suggest that you would enable me to leave in these pages a faithful description of his personal appearance. It has been truly said that history has a charlatanism, which usually represents its heroes in perspective in

VOL. III.

order to tone down whatever is base or revolting in their features. Sure I am that he should not be treated thus, for doubtless you knew him?"

"Knew him!" replied the provincial; "and who could have known him better? In sooth, dear brother; I knew him from his fifteenth year when Perrott's hired agent basely entrapped him aboard the ship that lay anchored opposite the Carmelite nunnery of Rathmullen. Often and often during the four years that he spent a prisoner in Dublin Castle, have I loitered about that fortress to catch a glimpse of him when he and his fellow-captives were allowed to walk out on the ramparts to breathe fresh air. Nay, after deputy Fitzwilliam had clutched the bribe of a thousand pounds given him by ONeill, to connive at his brother-in-law's escape, I was one of the first to congratulate him as he lay sick and frost bitten, in the fastness of Glenmalure, tended by the doctors, and guarded by O'Byrne's gallowglass.

"And did the lord deputy really take the bribe?" asked Father Purcell.

*

"There can hardly be a doubt of it ;" answered the provinical; "for Fitzwilliam was one of the most sordid men that ever filled that high office, and like his predecessor Perrott, he turned the deputyship to good account, never scrupling any atrocity that might help him to fill his coffers. He was in sooth a very miser, and you are aware that he went to Connaught when he heard that some ships of the Armada were stranded on the coast; and laid waste whole territories of the Irish chiefs, because they could not or would not give him the Spauish gold, which was said to have been found on the persons of the ship-wrecked sailors. † But as to the bribe given for O'Donel's enlargement, Sir Robert Gardiner and others charged Fitzwilliam with having accepted it.

"And how did he meet the accusation of having connived at the escape of the prisoners?"

"Very clumsily indeed,” replied the provinical, "for some months after their return to Ulster he wrote to Queen Elizabeth that the whole blame was to be thrown on Maplesdon, the chief warder of Dublin Castle, and the jailer under him, whose business it was to see, twice every twenty-four hours that the prisoner's chains were well secured, and he concluded this strange letter by telling her majesty, that he had dismissed Maplesdon, and committed the under jailer to a dungeon with good store of irons.‡

"And you ask me did I know Hugh Rufus O'Donel! I was but a stripling when he was seized by Perrott's stratagem, and little did I then think that I would one day wear a friar's habit in the monastery of Donegal, or in this house of Louvain. Friend, I told you before that I was a soldier in my prime, and that I marched under his banner, after I had witnessed his inauguration in the

Franciscan monastery of Kilmacrenan. That indeed was a glorious day when O'Freel the Erenach, placed the wand of sovereignty in his small hand, and proclaimed him the O'Donel. Knew him! O well I did in every phase of his career, in the hour of his splendid victory over Clifford in the passes of the Curlieus, and was I not at his side when his cavalry chased the remnant of Bagnall's routed forces from the Blackwater into Armagh ? But what have I to do with recollections which bring tears to these aged eyes, tears that I should reserve for the sins of my youth? alas, alas, I knew him too in the hour of his reverse, and was one of the last to kiss his hand on the beach of Castlehaven, when he was about to embark for Spain. The treachery, the defeat of Kinsale, had not broken his noble spirit; for he told us that we might soon expect to see him again, with a fleet of Spanish ships in the bay of Donegal. But as you think it right that generations to come should be acquainted with his person, take your pen and follow me carefully while I dictate.

"In stature he was above the middle height; his body was robust; his features, symmetry, and entire mien were elegant, his voice was sweet and musical. In his enterprises he was quick and active, ever a lover of justice, and a most inflexible punisher of malefactors. Persevering in his undertakings, faithful to his promises, most patient in hardships, rigid and severe in maintaining military discipline, courageous in presence of difficulties, brave in battle, affable and courteous to every one, zealous for the restoration of the Catholic faith, and a great depiser of the world; so much so that I have often heard him say, that if it pleased God to give a fortunate issue to the war, he would become a friar of St. Francis' order. He never married; his mind was great, but nowise proud: he was very zealous for ecclesiastical discipline and reformation, so much so that, through excess, he sometimes carried himself austerely with certain priests. He had a singular love for our order, and in all his actions he was truly sincere. As for his morality, it was never questioned-he was fond of the society of spiritual men, whose aid and counsel he was wont to seek. On his deathbed he begged St. Francis' habit in which he was buried, and he begged it with the intention of renouncing the world, had it pleased God to restore him to health.*

*As this is the only account we have of the personal appearance of the gallant Hugh Roe O'Donel, it occurs to us that some of our readers might wish to see the original text, which it as follows: "Hic erat statura mediocrem excedente, corpore robustus, vultu et forma ac aspectu decorus voce canorus, in actionibus vivax et celer. Justitiæ cultor, et malefactorum acerrimus vindex. In propositis constans, in promissis verax, laborum patientissimus. In disciplina militari rigidus et severus. In aggrediendo quocunque arduo negotio animosissimus, in bello fortis. Erga omnes urbanus, et affabilis. Restitutionis catholicæ fidei magnus zelator. Mundi etiam magnus contemptor, quem sæpe audivi dicentem si semel bello finis bonus imponeretur se futurum religiosum ordinis S. Francisci. Non erat conjugatus. Erat magni animi, sed non superbi. Zelabat multum ecclesiasticam disciplinam et reformationem, ita ut zelo forte immoderato, quibusdam sacerdotibus gravem se

"Now," said the provincial, "you have a true portrait of a great-man, not such indeed as Van Dyck would give on canvas; but in my judgment a great deal better; for who could paint the virtues or the internal emotions? But you have led me into a digres sion, and as I have given you all the particulars that I was able to collect regarding Rosserrick monastery, we will now speak of another far more famous,-I mean that of Kilconnell.

"For many a century before and after the English invasion, the potent family of O'Kelly ruled wits regal sway over the vast territory of Hy-Many, which originally extended from Clontuskert in the county of Roscommon, southwards, to the boundary of the county Clare, and from Athlone, westwards, to Seefin and Athenry, in the county of Galway. Well indeed, do the O'Kellys deserve to be styled a great family, for their strong walled castles were all bat countless, their martial prowess unsurpassed, and their piety most exemplary. But of them all, there was none more celebrated for his numerous virtues than William O'Kelly, presumptive heir to the lordship of Hy-Many, who in 1353 founded the magnificent monastery of Kilconnell for conventual Franciscans. It was, indeed, an edifice second to none of its class in Ireland, admirably constructed, spacious in all its departments, and most eligibly situated on the great thoroughfare leading from Athlone to Galway. In 1460, however the original building was considerably modified and enlarged, when, at the instance of Malachy O'Kelly, the convent was reformed, and its inmates adopted the stric observance. Malachy O'Kelly died in 1464, and was buried in the sumptuous sepulchre which was erected within the walls of the church by William, the original founder, for himself and his posterity. Indeed I have seen in that church numerous monuments erected by the chief families of the bordering districts, which as regards the marble of which they were wrought, and the exquisite finish of their elaborate sculpture, might challenge comparison with some of the most artistic developments of the same character in the cathedral of St. Gudule at Brussels.†

"It is not my intention to speak of the Franciscans who dwelt in Kilconnell before the disastrous days of the English schism, and I will therefore content myself with leaving on record some facts connected with that

ostenderet. Ordinem S. Francisci singulariter amabat, et in omnibus actionibus erat valde sincerus. Nunquam de incontinentia notatus. Sæpe volebat virorum spiritualium consilio regi. Tandem moriens habitum S. Francisci petiit in eoque sepultus est, eumque petiit cum proposita, si convaluisset, nunquam in sæculo manere."-Mooney, Hist (MS) Franciscanorum p. 123.

†There is a local tradition, that O'Donnellan of Ballydonnellan built a portion of the church and monastery: and 'tis certain that Tully O'Donnellan erected the mor tuary chapel which to this day is called CHAPEL TULLY Kilconnell is still the burial place of the O'Donnellans, ani there is a cross on the roadside leading to the abbey, erected in 1682, with the following inscription: "Orate pro D. J. Donnelano ejusque familia qui hanc crucem erigi

fecit.

venerable house, which I learnt from trustworthy witnesses, when I visited the place some years ago. On that occasion I found the Church in good preservation, owing in great measure to a singular circumstance which I will mention by and by. It may not be out of place, however, to premise that the church and monastery were built of finely cut stone, and that both were covered with a roof of wood, made to resemble tiles. Within the church are seven altars, and all the internal decorations, whether in stone or wood, are admirably wrought. The sacred edifice is surmounted by a lofty campanile, and strange to say, its sweet-toned bell is still there, notwithstanding the rapacity of the English protestants who seldom spare such things. In a word I found the church in excellent condition; the stained glass of the windows unbroken, the pictures undefaced, and the sculptured work unmutilated. I was there on more than one occasion, and with the six poor friars who still clung to the place, sang the office in choir, nay and preached to vast crowds, so vast that the church could not contain them all.

"It would seem that a special providence watched over Kilconnell to save it from the destruction which had fallen on nearly all our other houses, and you will agree with me in this, when I tell you that it stood in a most exposed position, and was frequently head-quarters of English regiments, during the Elizabethan war. Indeed, from time to time it was garrisoned by whole companies, who messed and lit fires within the very church, and yet strange to say, it sustained little or no injury from such unbidden guests! A few manifest proofs of that special interposition of heaven cannot but interest you, and assuredly they deserve to be placed on record.

"You have heard, no doubt, of Sir Richard Bingham, the governor of Connaught, whose inhuman treatment of the native Irish so shocked even Queen Elizabeth herself, that she was obliged to dismiss him from that high office in 1595, and summon him to London to answer the charges of cold-blooded murders which were preferred against him by the Bourkes and others. You are aware that that heartless miscreant sailed round Tirconnell, and with his ship's crew plundered the defenceless nuns of the Carmelite convent of Rathmullan of vestments, chalices, and all their other valuables. You have heard, too, how he and his brother George, subsequently slain by Ulick Burke, as he deserved, swept with fire and sword the island of Tory, demolishing its crosses and oratories which stood there since the days of Columb-Kill. Nevertheless, incredible as it may seem, this very Bingham behaved kindly to the friars of Kilconnell, where he used to keep his head quarters. In fact, he gave strict orders to his officers and men to see that the church and the monastery should sustain no injury at their hands; nay, he summoned some of the friars to his presence, and exhorted them to do all in their power to keep the buildings in good repair.

"In the year 1596 too, during the presidency of Sir Coniers Clifford, Kilconnell was once more turned into a

barrack for English soldiers after they had been signally defeated by O'Donel and O'Neil in various engagements. On this latter occasion, the English garrisoned the monastery with not less than fifteen companies, for they came to besiege Callow and Aughrim, two strong castles, situated within three or four miles of each other, which belonged to O'Kelly, then in alliance with the Irish princes. Now it so happened that one of the English officers then stationed there had a horse of which he was very fond, and he determined to stable it within the very chancel, hard by the steps of St. Francis' altar, where he caused hay and straw to be laid for the brute. Heaven, however, it would seem, resented this outrage, for on the next morning the valuable charger was found stark dead, though sound and strong the night before. Even the very companions of this Captain Rynck, for such was his name, admitted that this was a just judgment on his impiety. Nevertheless the English soldiers forced open the tombs of the princes and chieftains buried in the church, thinking that they would light on concealed treasure, nor did they desist from these outrages till one of them had his legs fractured by the falling of a huge mass of stone.

"It was in the same year (1596) that Captain Stryck, a protestant indeed, yet withal a man of generous disposition (for I knew him well), influenced no doubt by the facts which I have been relating, sent for the friars and gave them his word of honour that no one would be allowed to molest them; nay he issued strict orders that no injury should be done to the convent, and he forbade his soldiers to burn the woodwork of the church or of the cloisters. He then gave up the sacristy to the friars, and also some cells in the dormitory for their sole use, and so liberal was this officer that he allowed Mass to be said privately in the sacristy. During the nine months he remained there, the friars continued to live in the monastery which God enabled them to preserve. Meanwhile all the trees in the orchards and gardens were cut down by the soldiers and used for fuel; for although they often went to the neighbouring woods to fell it, and never returned without losing some of their men, yet, so fearful were they of injuring the church, or the wood work of the convent, that they preferred meeting the enemy face to face, and fighting for every stick they carried off.

"Now, will you not agree with me in ascribing the preservation of this monastery to the especial providence of God? What else could have restrained that bloody-minded monster, Bingham, from reducing it to a charred and rifted ruin? What else could have kept Stryck from demolishing it stone by stone? But this account of that venerable house would be imperfect if it did not bear testimony to the zealous exertions of those friars who spared no effort for its preservation. Let us therefore hand down their names to posterity, and should it please God, in some future age, to restore Kilconnell to the Franciscans, let them never forget to

* O'Neill and O'Donel.