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Born: 04 November 1822, Lough Glynn, County Roscommon
Entered: 07 September 1840, Hodder, Stonyhurst, England - Angliae Province (ANG)
Ordained: 1850
Died: 22 April 1856, Sevastopol, Crimea

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Studied Humanities at Stonyhurst before Ent.

1841 After a year at Hodder, he was sent to Madeira with his father for a change of air 27 September 1841
1844 Sent to Liverpool School for Regency
The after studies in Philosophy at Vals and a long course in Theology at St Beuno’s, he was Ordained 1850.
1851-1853 Appointed Minister at Stonyhurst
1853-1854 Appointed Superior of the new school in Manchester
1854 Appointed Superior of the new Mission at Accrington

He was appointed Chaplain to the English forces in the Crimean War, for which he had volunteered. He died in a camp there of fever 22 April 1856 aged 34. he was universally beloved for his many virtues, a man of great talent and high promise. he was buried in the Crimea with military honours, and his funeral was accompanied by upwards of 6,000 troops. He had caught the fever while voluntarily attending to the wounded French soldiers. He died before taking Final Vows.

Born: 29 May 1881, Ennis, County Clare
Entered: 06 September 1902, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1915, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1921, Mungret College SJ, Limerick
Died: 14 January 1924, Dublin

Chaplain in the First World War.

Part of the Mungret College, Limerick community at the time of death.

Father was a merchant and died in 1883. Mother died in 1890. She was a Protestant before her marriage.

Two brothers and three sisters (one deceased)

Early education was a a convent school and a Christian Brothers school. Then he went to Castleknock College

by 1906 at St Aloysius Jersey Channel Islands (FRA) studying
by 1908 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1917 Military Chaplain : No 17 Casualty Clearing Station, France
by 1918 Military Chaplain : c/o Archbishop’s House, Wodehouse Road, Bombay, India
by 1919 Military Chaplain : 16th CCS, Mesopotamia, EF

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Early education was at Castleknock.

After his Novitiate he was sent to Jersey for Philosophy and then to Clongowes for a Regency of some years Teaching and Prefecting.
1912 He began Theology at Milltown.
1917 He was appointed Military Chaplain to No 17 Casualty Clearing Station, BEF, France. He was for some time later In India and Mesopotamia.
After the War ended he was sent to Mungret. he was attacked by some virulent growth and died after much suffering in hospital in Dublin 14 January 1924. He is buried in Mungret.

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Electrical Engineer before entry

◆ The Clongownian, 1924

Obituary

Father Frank Shaw SJ

Father Frank Shaw SJ, was not himself an “old Clongownian”, but there must be many old Clongowes boys who would find it difficult to remember their time at Clongowes without recalling “Mr Shaw”. Third Liners of the years 1909-'11 especially will remember him, for he was our Prefect during that time. Many of these Third Liners must have gone to Heaven before him, for they were just the right age to be called upon to take their share in the Great War. Indeed, Father Shaw, who was a chaplain in the Navy for a time, met more than one of his former charges in India or some other of the many places where his duty brought him. But we thought little of wars during 1909-'11, and we remember Father Shaw best as being a bit of a puzzle. From one point of view he was quite intelligible to us; we understood him and sympathised fully with him when he would go in to bat some scorching summer day and scatter the visiting team's best bowlers to the boundaries. We used to thrill with pride - for, of course, we looked upon our Prefect as the product of our training - at his exquisite late cuts and glides, or his powerful straight drives, and shout ourselves hoarse in friendly triumph over the discomfiture of the “enemy” bowlers. But Father Shaw puzzled us by what now we should call his idealistic side: he was a very silent man, yet very humorous when he liked, and sometimes when he did not like, he would be stirred to a slow smile by the whimsical seriousness with which some Third Liner viewed the minor problems of life. He nearly always seemed shy with us boys, but we knew him for a gentle, patient, just man, and I think we half sympathised with his somewhat tired demeanour. We sensed vaguely the fact that he possessed an artistic temperament, and some of us knew how to lure him to the library door by, putting on some of his favourite records. He was a poet, too, and he used to confess how jealous. he was of the phrase, “Our tainted nation's solitary boast” having been written by a Protestant.

He died a most holy death on 13th January, 1924, after weeks of intense pain, He used to murmur, towards the end, to those who visited him, “J'ai fini”, but most of us knew that he was not thinking so much of the close of his old life as of the opening of his new; and his real thought would be rather Nunc coepi”.
E J C RIP

◆ The Mungret Annual, 1924

Obituary
Father Frank Shaw SJ

Born in Ennis, Co. Clare, on May 29th, 1881, Fr Francis Shaw lost his father and mother while still young. Fr D Fogarty was named as guardian of the five children - two girls and three boys - and on his death the present Bishop of Killaloe, Most Rev Dr Fogarty acted as guardian - always an ideally kind one - especially to Fr Frank, his favourite.

In 1892 Fr Shaw was sent to Castleknock College where he remained till 1901, winning a name for himself already in cricket and football. From there he went to Newcastle-on-Tyne for a course of engineering. Here, wishing to be in a position to answer the religious difficulties of his Protestant fellow-students, he got into touch with the Jesuit Father's, with the result that he gave up Engineering and entered the Jesuit noviceship at Tullabeg on September 6th, 1902.

He received his vows on September 8th, 1904, and after studying Philosophy in Jersey and at Stonyhurst, England, he was stationed in Clongowes Wood College from 1909-1913. Coming to Milltown Park in 1913, he was ordained in 1916.

As the call for chaplains was urgent he volunteered immediately, and was appointed chaplain to the British Forces soon after. He served in that capacity till the War was over - in fact till 1920.

His work as chaplain was for some time in France, but mainly on the Eastern Front in Mesopotamia. Here he had a severe attack of malaria and dysentery, and it was here that at odd moments and in odder places he wrote most of his papers on Our Lady.

Demobilized in 1919, he made his tertianship in Tullabeg and in August, 1920, came to Mungret College. He took his final vows on February 2nd, 1921, in the College chapel and remained here till his health gave way in September last. It was then judged expedient to send him to a specialist in Dublin. From the first the doctors had not much hope; and an exploring operation confirmed their worst fears. Cancer was diagnosed, and it was clear he could only last some months.

Sister Ignatius broke the news to him a week or two after the operation; and soon after found him crying - but as he hastened to reassure her - for joy that he was to “go home so soon”. Everyone who came in contact with him - Sisters, nurses, doctors, visitors - all were amazed at his cheerful patience and his simple manly holiness.

A prominent Dublin doctor who had attended many saintly people in their last illness stated Fr Shaw was the holiest of them all. The terrible disease wore him slowly down. He hoped to get “home with the Kings” he said; and the day after the Octave of the Epiphany news came of his happy release. And so his body was brought to Mungret, “the old spot” he loved, coming in the train that brought the boys back from Holidays. He had gone on the unending Holiday. And the boys with their keen intuition of things, said openly and half-enviously that he was in Heaven - for he was a saint,

Judged by ordinary standards his death seems naturally premature - yet he said himself before leaving for Dublin that he had seen and had as much of life as he wanted. And the circles in which be moved - his old school, the communities in which he lived, the regiments of which he was in spiritual charge, and most of all, Mungret, both the school and the Community - know and feel his life has not been in vain and will not forget how he brightened life for them, always full of playful whimsical humour, always doing what he had to do conscientiously and well. His disposition was essentially kindly and amiable. He was a splendid athlete, and in all games maintained his reputation till the very end. They speak of his batting and football yet in Clongowes. In France he shot the winning goal for his regiment after he had received a nasty “ankle-tap” which kept him prone for six weeks. In India they would hold up cricket matches till the Padre's boat came in from Basra. And in Mungret he proved himself as skilled in hurling and rounders as in the other games.

He liked simple things and candid people, and never was afraid to hear or speak the truth. He was a great lover of Nature and his hobbies included Astronomy and Botany. His chief characteristic, however, was a love for Our Lady that glowed all his life at white heat. He sang Her praises in prose and in verse, hunting up every text of scripture that referred to Her, ransacking every Doctor of the Church who spoke of Her. He seemed to see all life through Her, and so to the poor, to women and children he was wonderfully gentle and courteous as beloved our Lady's knight.

He was as well a passionate lover of Ireland, of Clare, and of Mungret. When in a base hospital over in Mesopotamia some English officer's made disparaging remarks of the 1916 men, the quiet Padre faced a ward-full of them, and an icy frightened silence followed! He sensed the truth out there; he never swerved for one half-second from the head line set by Pearse, and McSwiney through all the later tangled times.

Mungret seemed somehow to be waiting for him, and he for her. As spiritual Father to the boys, her “holiness and homeliness” appealed to his manly piety and sincerity; and as teacher he revelled in the Gaelic national tradition here. Going through his papers, one finds the list of the Mungret wild flowers and the date on which he first sees them every year, and then the Gaelic name side by side with the high-sounding Graeco Latin botanical term. He loved everything and everyone that was in Mungret or loved Mungret. The evening that in a tense silence the hearse came crunching and creaking up the avenue - one of the little birds he used to feed from his window kept flying from it to the writer's and back again. At last after tapping impatiently with its beak on the panes of the closed window next door, it flew away. The hearse had stopped. The coffin was being borne to the chapel.

Yet the “Father, Who is in Heaven” will care for the little feathered friends of Fr Shaw in Mungret, and Father Shaw will remind Him even of them because they are of the Mungret he loved, and for which he worked and prayed and works and prays that she still may be “kindly Irish of the Irish”, full of the old homely holiness, the natural super naturalness of the Gael - and with some at least of his splendid love for Muire Máthair.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam!

To his brothers and sisters and to, Most Rev Dr Fogarty, Bishop of Killaloe, who was nearer and dearer to him than anyone on earth, we offer our sincere sympathy.

Born: 22 October 1882, Main Street, Castleisland, County Kerry
Entered: 07 September 1899, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1915, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1921, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 13 November 1961, St John’s Hospital, Limerick

Part of the Crescent College, Limerick community at the time of death

Father a shopkeeper and of private means.

Second eldest of three boys and has six sisters (younges of whom died in infancy)

Early education at a convent school in Castleisland, then an intermediate school in Tralee and Clongowes Wood College SJ

First World War chaplain

by 1906 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1912 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1917 Military Chaplain : 96th (CP) Field Ambulance, BEF France
by 1918 Military Chaplain : 18 KLR, BEF France

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/blog/damien-burke/a-sparrow-to-fall/

A sparrow to fall
Damien Burke
A BBC Northern Ireland documentary, Voices 16 – Somme (BBC 1 NI on Wednesday 29th June,
9pm) explores the events of 1916 through the testimony of the people who witnessed it and their families. Documentary makers and relatives of Jesuit chaplain Willie Doyle were shown his letters, postcards and personal possessions kept here at the Irish Jesuit Archives. In the 1920s, Alfred O’Rahilly used some of these letters in his biography of Fr Willie Doyle SJ. Afterwards they were given to Willie’s brother, Charles, and were stored for safekeeping in the basement of St Francis Xavier’s church, Lower Gardiner Street, Dublin in 1949. In 2011, they were accessioned into the archives.
Fr Willie Doyle SJ was one of ten Irish Jesuits who served as chaplains at the battle of the Somme (1 July- 18 November 1916): seven with the British forces; three with the Australian. Their letters, diaries and photographs witness their presence to the horror of war.

Fr Daniel Roche SJ, 97th (C. P.) Field Ambulance (06 July 1916):
I have been in a dug out up at the front line for the last fortnight, during the bombardment and four days of the battle... I have seen some sights for the last few days which I shall not readily forget. It has been a very very hard time which I would not have missed...I am in splendid form, or will be when I have had some sleep. Unfortunately I have been unable to say Mass during that time.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 37th Year No 1 1962
The Sacred Heart Church and College
Father Daniel Roche
On November 13th Fr. Dan Roche had a very happy and most peaceful death quite in keeping with that deep serenity that marked his life. He had a slight heart attack a week previously and since then had been in St. John's hospital, One could see from the reaction to the sad news the extent of the community's esteem and affection for the late Fr. Roche, which affection was so obvious also last spring when he had to go to hospital following an attack of 'flu. In the days which followed his death we fully realised the great blessing that an aged religious like Fr. Roche can bring on a community where he was often spotlighted and made the centre of recreation, recounting for us the stories of the past. Fr. Roche often spoke of the deeds of his long-deceased contemporaries and when he mentioned Fr. John Sullivan (a fellow-novice) he seemed to relive those noviceship days. Indeed it was more than a coincidence that Father Dan went to his Maker on the feast of St. Stanislaus. Fr. Roche is buried in the Mungret cemetery beside Fr. Barragry, Fr. O'Connell and Fr. McWilliams - those stalwarts of the Crescent church, who as confessors and preachers, quite subconsciously won the hearts of Limerick. Indeed only recently a nun from the St. Joseph of Cluny Sisters asked for a mortuary card of Fr. McWilliams, and on receiving it, wrote thus to Fr. Rector: “A thousand thanks indeed for the mortuary card. I cannot tell you how much my mother will appreciate it as Fr. McWilliams was her best friend in Limerick, In fact she prays to him and considers him a great saint as in his lifetime he did wonderful things for her. I can thank him also for the grace of my religious vocation”.

Obituary :
Fr Daniel Roche (1882-1961)
Fr. Dan Roche died in St. John's Hospital, Limerick, on Monday, November 13th, St. Stanislaus' Day, after a brief illness lasting a little over a week.
An examination of the Catalogue in an effort to trace Fr. Roche's career in the Province reveals something which is somewhat out of the ordinary. The chronological list is as follows :
1899 (Sept. 7th): Entered Noviceship at Tullabeg (one year ahead of Fr. John Sullivan.
1901 Junior in Tullabeg.
1902 Teaching Latin and Greek in Galway.
1903 Prefect of Discipline in Clongowes.
1905 Philosopher at Stonyhurst.
1906 Study Prefect at Clongowes (for five years).
1911 Finished Philosophy at Louvain.
1912 Theologian at Milltown
1915 Ordained priest at Milltown.
1916 Chaplain in British Army in World War One. Won Military Cross
1919 Tertian Father at Tullabeg.
1920 Teacher and Games Master at the Crescent.
1923 Teacher at Clongowes.
1924-1933 Member of the Mission Staff.
1933-1961 Operarius at the Crescent.

It is not an easy task to give even a fairly adequate account of Fr. Dan Roche, as he was a very reserved and reticent man, for the most part, and one could live for a long time with him and yet know little about him.
Rarely indeed did he reveal anything of his real self and then, not so much by what he said as by what he did. One has to depend, therefore, upon the few who knew him somewhat more intimately to get some insight into the true character of the man. One who was a fellow-novice writes of him :
“Fr. Dan was a great character. I met him first on September 7th, 1899, at Portarlington on our way to Tullabeg, and we became life long friends. He was a solidly good religious, always ready to give sound reasons for the faith that was in him. He was a good conversationalist, well read, and proficient in all kinds of games and sports and, naturally, he became a kind of a hero to the novices and juniors at Tullabeg. But that never went to his head and he had no use for pretence or ostentation, and hence he could not suffer fools gladly, He was, I always thought, a strong character, or a "he-man" as he used to say when speaking of a third party. He evidently made a good impression in the army, for during many years after the war, he used to get letters from officers and men with whom he had come in contact”.
Few of Fr. Roche's friends heard much about his experiences as an army chaplain in the first World War. He was extremely reticent on the subject. Shortly after his ordination to the priesthood, he volunteered for service with the British Forces and was posted to a Field Ambulance in France. His real active service, however, was with a front-line battalion in the trenches of Flanders, and it was only a fitting tribute to his determination and courage that he was decorated with the coveted Military Cross for distinguished service on the battle-field.
After his tertianship in Tullabeg and four years of teaching at the Crescent and Clongowes, Fr. Roche was appointed to the mission staff where again he had an outlet for the zeal and self-sacrifice so conspicuous in his army career. From time to time, when he was in a more talkative mood, he would recall incidents and relate stories - always extremely well told - of his missionary experiences up and down the country.
In 1933 he returned to the Crescent and for nine years directed the Apostleship of Prayer Association and the Holy Hour. During this time and his remaining years in Limerick-twenty-eight years in all--he endeared himself to the patrons of the Sacred Heart Church. He was particularly noted for his zeal in the confessional and for the practical common sense which he displayed in his approach to the various problems which he solved for his penitents. Quietly and unobtrusively he comforted the sick and the afflicted and those who really got to know him found in him a true and sincere friend.
In community life he was pleasant and good-humoured and for one who was remarkable for a retiring and studious disposition—he was an omnivorous reader he took a kindly and sympathetic interest in the many and varied interests of a busy College.
If ever a Jesuit died in action it was Fr. Roche, He was busily engaged in the church up to the end. He heard Confessions for several hours on the three days prior to the fatal heart attack. In fact, he was in his confessional until 9 p.m. on the previous night. He died as he would have wished-ever ready for the call, giving himself generously to the service of the Lord. For Fr. Roche there was one motto : Give and do not count the cost.

Born: 19 April 1866, Kilkenny, County Kilkenny
Entered: 01 June 1885, Loyola House, Dromore, County Down
Ordained: 1901
Final vows: 15 August 1903
Died: 18 November 1932, Dublin

Part of the Clongowes Wood College, Naas, County Kildare community at the time of death.

Older brother of Laurence Potter - RIP 1934

First World War Chaplain.

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Medical student before entry

by 1893 at Enghien Belgium (CAMP) studying
by 1898 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1902 at Drongen Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship
by 1917 Military Chaplain : 7th Yorkshire Regiment, France
by 1918 Military Chaplain : 37 London Road Chelmsford
by 1919 Military Chaplain : 21 Wellington Esplanade, Lowestoft

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 8th Year No 1 1933
Obituary :
Fr Henry Potter
Father H. Potter died in Dublin, Friday, I8th November, 1932.
He was born in Kilkenny 19th April, 1866, educated at Christian schools, Diocesan College, and Castleknock, and began his noviceship at Dromore, Is June, 1885. Two years juniorate followed, the first in Milltown Park, the second in Tullabeg (the noviceship was changed from Dromore to Tullabeg in 1888).
At the end of the two years Father Potter was sent to Clongowes, where he remained for three years as master or prefect, and then to Enghien for philosophy. His course was
interrupted when he had done two years, and in 1894 we find him in Mungret when he put in three more years as prefect before resuming philosophy at Stonyhurst. Theology at Milltown immediately followed, and then tertianship at Tronchiennes.
When the tertianship was over in 1902 he began his long career as Minister - Clongowes, Belvedere, Gardiner St., Crescent - until in 1911 he was back in Belvedere as master. He spent three years in the classroom, when once more the ministership claimed him, by way of variety, at Leeson St. This brought him to the memorable year 1914, when Father Potter donned the uniform as Military Chaplain. He saw service both in France and England, and in 1919 was back in Gardiner St. as Oper. A year in Milltown, Director of Retreats, stood between him and his special vocation, in 1923 he was minister in Galway. He held the position until 1928, and was thus minister for fifteen years, and in six different homes. For the next three years he had charge of the small study in Clongowes, a year's quiet teaching followed, and then came the end.
On the evening of Monday 14th November he was brought to Dublin in great pain. All the ordinary remedies for lumbago were tried without result, and a growth of some kind, pressing on a nerve centre, was suspected Next day he was very much distressed, and a minor operation was performed to try and give him relief, His heart was in a very bad state, and the doctors advised the Last Sacraments, which were immediately administered. That night he had two very severe haemorrhages, which left him very weak. On Thursday blood transfusion was tried, but did no good, and on Friday morning he collapsed. When asked if there was much pain his only answer was that he was “offering it all up.” He was quite conscious to the very end, and got absolution several times. He joined in the prayers for the dying, and his last act immediately before expiring was to kiss the crucifix, and whisper the Holy Name.
This very happy death was the crown of a holy life. Father Potter did not belong to the class of men whose goodness attracts attention and is freely spoken about, but the goodness was there. And, now that he is gone, stories are being told of his visits to the Blessed Sacrament, especially when few people were about, of his devout prayers, and, especially, of his devotion to the Stations of the Cross, He was charitable, the character of the neighbour was safe in his hands. And he was charitable when charity was difficult, when something was said that invited a sharp retort, that retort was never forthcoming, He was an excellent community man, and will be sadly missed. It can be said of him with truth that he was the life and soul of recreation, was full of fun, and had as keen an eye as most people for what was comical or ludicrous in his surroundings. He was very approachable, and with boys a prime favourite. As soon as he appeared a knot of them quickly gathered round him, and soon fun of some kind or other was in progress. And this was true of all classes of boys, our own College boys or the little lads that come to serve Mass in our Church. May he rest in peace.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973
Father Henry Potter 1866-1932
Henry Potter died in Dublin on November 18th 1932, He was a native of Kilkenny, being born there on April 19th 1866. Having been educated at Castleknock College he entered the Society at Dromore in 1885.

He spent most of his life as Minister in our houses. In 1914 he became a Chaplain in the Great War, and he served all through it until 1919.

He was a man of deep piety practised in secret. After his death, people spoke of his quiet nocturnal visits to the Blessed Sacrament, and his great devotion to0 the Stations of the Cross.

In his last agony, he remained conscious to the end, joining in the prayers for the dying. His last act was to kiss the crucifix and murmur the Holy Name.

◆ The Clongownian, 1933

Obituary

Father Henry Potter SJ

Though Clongowes cannot lay claim to Father Potter as one of her own Past, some of us can well remember him when he came as far back as to take over the Third Line. He had just finished his Rhetoric as a young Jesuit. So that it was in Clongowes that he began and ended his working life. In the middle of this long span he was Minister here.

He always felt very much at home here, for he was at his best with the boys: one is almost tempted to say: with the little lads. So that there was a strange fittingness in the fact that the Third Line Prefect of 1891 was the Small Study Prefect of 1931. The comic touch of incongruity, apparent only, would often make one smile when one caught sight of him in the centre of a group of Elementarians as they gathered for class at 9.30. He, seemingly grave but thoroughly enjoying the way in which they would solemnly discuss the amazing theories he would propound just to draw them out. In him a cloak of gravity covered a puckish fancy, a fact which explains his general popularity.

Though he was suffering a good deal, it was only on Monday morning, 14th November, that he failed to go down to his small boys. He left that day for a Dublin Nursing Home and died on the following Friday.

We inay be sure that he was sustained in the pains and sufferings of the last year of his life by his devotion to the Stationis of the Cross, a characteristic of his personal life. He is much missed in Clongowes. In the Community recreations his passing away has left a great blank. RIP

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Commnnity

Father Henry Potter (1866-1932)

Was born in Kilkenny and received his early education at St Kieran's and Castleknock College. He entered the Society in 1885 and pursued his higher studies at Enghien and Milltown Park where he was ordained in 1901. Father Potter spent two years at the Crescent 1909-11 when he held the position of minister of the house and prefect of the church. At the beginning of the first world war, he volunteered as chaplain and served in England and France. In the years following the war he was sometime director of retreats at Milltown Park and served some seven years as minister at Clongowes. His remaining years were spent in Clongowes.

Born: 16 July 1877, Khishagur, Bengal, India
Entered: 01 March 1895, Loyola Greenwich, Australia (HIB)
Ordained: 26 July 1910, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1923, Stonyhurst College, Lancashire, England
Died: 30 November 1948, Petworth, Sussex, England - Australiae Province (ASL)

Chaplain in the First World War.

Transcribed HIB to ASL : 05 April 1931

by 1902 at Valkenburg Netherlands (GER) studying
by 1908 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1911 at Drongen Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship
by 1912 at St Wilfred's, Preston (ANG)
by 1917 Military Chaplain : 3rd Cavalry Field Ambulance and Brigade, BEF France
by 1918 Military Chaplain : No 2 Cavalry Field Ambulance, BEF France
by 1921 at St Luigi, Birkirkara, Malta (SIC) teaching
by 1922 at St Aloysius College, Oxford, England (ANG) working
by 1923 at St Wilfred’s Preston England (ANG) working

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/jesuitica-answering-back-2/

JESUITICA: Answering back
Do Jesuits ever answer back? Our archives hold an exchange between Fr Bernard Page SJ, an army chaplain, and his Provincial, T.V.Nolan, who had passed on a complaint from an Irish officer that Fr Page was neglecting the care of his troops. Bernard replied: “Frankly, your note has greatly pained me. It appears to me hasty, unjust and unkind: hasty because you did not obtain full knowledge of the facts; unjust because you apparently condemn me unheard; unkind because you do not give me credit for doing my best.” After an emollient reply from the Provincial, Bernard softens: “You don’t know what long horseback rides, days and nights in rain and snow, little or no sleep and continual ‘iron rations’ can do to make one tired and not too good-tempered.”

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Bernard Page was born in India where his father was a judge, but from the age of seven lived in Glenorchy in Tasmania, from where he was sent to Xavier College as a boarder. In 1895 he entered the novitiate at Loyola Greenwich under Aloysius Sturzo. In mid-1898 he went to Xavier College as hall prefect and teacher, and appears to have been the founding editor of the Xaverian. By 1900 he ran the debating and drama, Page was a careful and competent photographer, and the photographic record of his time at Xavier is amongst the most valuable photos of the whole Irish Mission. He travelled to Europe, did philosophy at Valkenburg and was sent back to teaching at Clongowes and Belvedere, 1904-07. After tertianship Page served at Preston in England until 1914, and during that time requested a transfer to the English province, which was apparently refused. War chaplaincy followed, including a trip to the forces in Murmansk. He worked in a parish in Oxford, 1921-22, and from then until 1947 he served at St Walburge's parish in Preston. Page never considered himself Australian but maintained an interest in the work of the Society in Australia, and kept up contacts from his Xavier days.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 24th Year No 1 1949

Obituary

Fr. Bernard Fullerton Page (1877-1895-1948) – Vice Province of Australia

Many members of our Province will remember well Fr. Page, who died recently in England, who belonged to the Vice-Province of Australia, was born at Khishagur, Bengal, India on 16th July, 1877 and began his noviceship at Sydney on 1st March, 1895. There also he did his juniorate but for pbilosophy went to Valkenburg. He began his theology at Louvain but completed the course at Milltown Park where he was ordained priest on 26th July, 1910. After finishing his tertianship, he joined the staff at St. Ignatius, Preston and was an army chaplain during the 1914-1918 war. After demobilisation, he was at St. Aloysius, Oxford in 1921 and in 1922 went to St. Walburge's, Preston where he remained until ill health compelled him to retire to Petworth in March, 1948. He was the editor of the Walburgian and was able to boast that even under war-time conditions, publication was never delayed. He was also the author of a Life of St. Walburge, “Our Story : The History of St. Walburge's Parish”, “The Sacristan's Handbook”, and “Priest's Pocket Ritual”. R.I.P.

Born: 01 December 1881, Church Street, North Wall, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 07 September 1899, Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1915, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 17 March 1918, Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Died: 24 February 1974, Little Sisters of the Poor, Drummoyne, Sydney - Australiae Province (ASL)

Part of the St Francis Xavier, Lavender Bay, North Sydney, Australia community at the time of death.

Father a mercantile clerk

Second youngest of five brothers and 2 sisters (both deceased in infance before he was born)

Educated at O’Connell’s Schools

Transcribed HIB to ASL : 05 April 1931

by 1906 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
Came to Australia for Regency 1905
by 1918 Military Chaplain: No 5 POW Cam,p APO, S20, BEF France
by 1919 Military Chaplain: 30 general Hospital, APC 4, BEF France

Brother: Ó Briain, Liam (1888–1974), republican, scholar of Romance languages, and Irish-language enthusiast.

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/blog/damien-burke/jesuits-and-the-influenza-1918-19/

Jesuits and the influenza, 1918-19
Damien Burke
The influenza pandemic that raged worldwide in 1918-19 (misnamed the Spanish flu, as during the First World War, neutral Spain reported on the influenza) killed approximately 100 million people.

The influenza was widely referenced by Irish Jesuit chaplains in the First World War. Fr FX O’Brien comments from France in September 1918 that: “I suppose you had your share of influenza that swept over Ireland recently. Here even still, we get traces of it”.

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280

FX, as he was affectionately known, was educated by the Irish Christian Brothers and entered the Jesuits, 7 September 1899, at Tullabeg. He obtained first class honours in Latin and second class honors in Greek during his juniorate and later studied physics at the Dublin College of Science.

As a regent he was sent to Riverview, 1906-12, where he taught senior classes. worked in the boarding house and was editor of “Our Alma Mater”. He had a choir from 1909-12. After theology at Milltown Park and tertianship at Tullarnore, 1912-17, he became a military chaplain, 1917-19 serving the No. 5 German Prisoners of War Company, as well as the 30th General Hospital, BEE France. He arrived back in Australia in 1920 to spend a few years teaching at Riverview.

From 1922-31 FX was rector of St Aloysius' College, and usually prefect of studies as well, taught, directed the Sodality and a choir. Some Jesuits claimed he was too hesitant and undecided be a rector, and not much of a preacher or public speaker.

However, in 1931 he was appointed rector of Xavier College for three years, and then worked in the parish of Richmond for a further two. From there he went as superior to the Toowong Parish in Brisbane and returned to St Aloysius' College from 1940-49, being rector again, 1944-48.

He spent one year at the preparatory school to Riverview, Campion Hall, before returning to parish responsibilities at St Aloysius' College, 1950-55 . He worked from the church of
the Star of the Sea. His final placement was the North Sydney parish. During that time he cared for patients mainly at the Mater Hospital, where he spent his day visiting everybody,
whatever their religious persuasion. He was much loved because of his infectious good will, friendliness, and interest in people. In his earlier days he was much in demand for weddings
and baptisms, but in his latter days funerals predominated.

FX was a bright, cheerful, breezy person, wonderful at malting friends, and had a prodigious memory. He made most impression on individuals and families, and he was a good community man. As rector of St Aloysius' College, he left no buildings, there were no departures from tradition and yet he was one of the most loved Jesuits ever experienced at the college. He revived the Old Boys Union, almost moribund for many years. He was president of the Registered Schools Association in 1927, one of the founders and first president of the Associated Secondary Schools of NSW, and was a member of the Catholic Education Council and the Catholic Schools Association. At the time of his death he was the doyen of the province.

Obituary :

Fr F X O’Brien (1881-1974)

When Fr F X O'Brien died in the Retired Priests' Home in Sydney on February 24, the Australian Province lost its oldest and one of its best-known members.

Fr O'Brien (better known as FX) was born in Dublin on 1 December 1881, received his early education from the Christian Brothers at O’Connell Schools, and entered the Society at Tullabeg on 7 September 1899. Endowed with a phenomenal memory for people and events, right up to the end of his long life, he frequently recalled those testing years in Tullabeg under the direction of that redoubtable novice master, Fr James Murphy. Grateful to survive the two years, he passed on to juniorate studies, and later to philosophy in Stonyhurst. In 1906, he was sent to Australia as a missionary (he always insisted on this term), spent six years teaching in Riverview College, Sydney, and then returned to Ireland for theology in Milltown Park, where he was ordained priest on 3 July 1915. In 1916 he went to Tullabeg for tertianship, but when the Long Retreat was over, he went to France as military chaplain, where he remained till the war ended in 1918. He then returned to Tullabeg to complete his tertianship and in 1919 returned to Australia. The years that followed were mostly spent in the colleges. He was Rector of St Aloysius, Sydney, Rector of Xavier College, Melbourne, Parish Priest of Toowong, Brisbane, and Rector of St Aloysius College for another term. For the last twelve years of his life, he lived at St Mary’s Presbytery, North Sydney, where he was a most zealous and devoted chaplain to the Mater Hospital nearby. Up to a year ago when he was ninety-one, he was in excellent health, then he had to undergo a prostate operation after which he never recovered his old vigour. He declined steadily, and was placed under the care of the Little Sisters of the Poor in the Retired Priests Home where he died peacefully in his ninety-third year on February 24.

Although a man of sturdy and independent character, Fr O’Brien had a graciousness, affability and friendliness of manner that won him a host of friends. While he loved Australia and its people, he retained a deep attachment to the old country, and was a most faithful member of Irish societies in Sydney. He was a most obedient, humble and loyal Jesuit, deeply attached to the spirit and traditions of what some now call the Old Society.bewildered at the change of direction it has taken in recent years, and saddened by the large number of defections among its priest members. To our traditional spiritual practices, morning meditation, Rosary, etc he was faithful to the end of his life. In Community life, he was always pleasant, jovial, and gracious. There is no doubt that dur ing his long life he served his Master with a loyalty, love and devotion truly worthy of imitation.

The large crowd of over a 1,000 people which filled St Mary's Church for his Requiem Mass on February 27, which included the newly-consecrated Irish bishop, Bishop Cremin an old Mungret boy), the Australian Provincial, Fr Patrick O’Sullivan, and about fifty priests, was an eloquent tribute to the esteem and affection in which he was held. It was fitting that the funeral on its way to the cemetery should make a detour so as to pass by the Mater Hospital where as chaplain over the years he had helped so many to meet their Maker, and where doctors, Sisters, nurses, and even patients stood in silent tribute to a much loved and devoted pastor.

We offer sympathy to Fr O”Brien's brother, Mr Liam O’Brien, emeritus Professor of French, UCG, for whom the bereavement is the heavier in that he had planned to visit Fr F X in Sydney during the coming summer.

Born: 09 April 1871, Boyle, County Roscommon
Entered: 11 November 1893, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 1905, Milltown Park., Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1912, Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick
Died: 10 April 1948, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin

Educated at Summerhill College Sligo, the St Patrick’s College, Maynooth (4 years)

First World War chaplain.

by 1898 at Stonyhurst, England (ANG) studying
by 1907 at Drongen, Belgium (BELG) making Tertianship
by 1916 at St Aloysius College, Glasgow (ANG) Military Chaplain
by 1917 Military Chaplain : 5th East Lancashire, Witley, Surrey
by 1918 Military Chaplain : Officers Mess Park Hall Camp, Oswestry

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 23rd Year No 3 1948
Obituary

Fr. Hugh Mulhall (1871-1893-1948)

Fr. Mulhall died on Saturday, April 10th after a few days illness. He had been visibly failing for some time before but had not been confined to bed. On Monday, April 5th, he got a heavy cold, which developed into congestion. He was anointed and received Holy Viaticum on Wednesday night and although he rallied a little next day, he was clearly dying on Friday. This was his seventy seventh birthday and he was very grateful to all the Fathers wbo celebrated Mass for him that morning. His sufferings were increasing but God mercifully put an end to them on Saturday afternoon. R.I.P.
Hugh Mulhall was born at Boyle on April 9th, 1871. His mother was a sister of The Mac Dermott, a fact which Fr. Mulhall never forgot and of which he liked to remind others. He was educated at the diocesan college of the Immaculate Conception, Summerhill, Sligo, from which he went to Maynooth where he spent about four years. All his life he was proud of being a ‘Maynooth man’ and he preserved a vivid memory of his contemporaries. He could tell after a lapse of nearly half a century which of them had got ‘a first of first’, which had ‘led his class’ which had come to high ecclesiastical dignity.
He entered the novitiate at Tullabeg on St. Stanislaus' Day, 1893. In due time, he pronounced his first vows and after a short Juniorate, he spent two years in the Colleges, one year at Galway and one at Clongowes. He was sent to Stonyhurst for his philosophy which he did in two years. He was on the teaching staff in Galway again in 1900. In 1903 he did his theology in Milltown and was ordained there in 1905. He went to Tronchiennes in 1907 for his tertianship under Pere Petit and was sent to the Crescent, Limerick to teach in 1908. As his methods of teaching were original but not calculated to secure success in the examinations, he was transferred to the Church staff. After a year spent at Tullabeg as missioner and operarius in the people's church, he was appointed a military chaplain in the First World War, in 1916. He never went to the Front but served as chaplain to hospitals and camps, at Stobhill, Glasgow, at Whitley, Surrey, and at Oswestry. The four or five years which he spent as chaplain were the most active and pleasant of his life and gave him a stock of memories and stories which he never forgot.
He must have been rather an unsoldierly figure and he was certainly unconventional in manner, but he soon came to show that he was a first-class chaplain. He had an extraordinary gift of interesting people in religion. He was very intelligent, quick and subtle of mind, unusually independent of notes and books. Like Macaulay, he could be said to carry his wealth in his breeches pocket and not in the bank. He had his considerable capital under his hand and could draw on it at once. He had a rare gift of being able to expound a question or situation in a lucid, orderly and winning way. He could show to a prejudiced hostile non-Catholic that even the most ‘advanced’ Catholic doctrines, such as the infallibility of the Pope or the Immaculate Conception, were sweetly reasonable and actually demanded by the general situation. He was devoted to the men and did great good among them. At the mess and in his general dealings with the officers, he produced a deep impression. A point of morals or a question of belief would be mentioned and the Padre would be asked for his opinion. His opinion was always received with respect, if not with approval, he could give the Catholic position clearly and cogently. He undoubtedly exercised a great influence.
In 1921 he was appointed to the Mission Staff. He suffered with increasing intensity from nervous troubles and after a period in a sanatorium in Scotland, he spent some years in Rainhill in the English Province doing retreat work. But his malady got worse and he was obliged to give up active work. In 1931 he came to Rathfarnham Castle where he remained until his death.
Fr. Muhall was emphatically a ‘character’, unusual and remark able in many respects. He attracted attention at once by his great unwieldy figure, with its indication of uncommon physical strength. Almost all his life, he enjoyed good health and never knew what a headache was. For a man with his leisure, he read extremely little, but he had a most tenacious memory and never forgot what he heard from others or learned from his own experience. He loved talking and could not sit in a tram or bus or train without entering at once into conversation with his neighbour. He had great skill in starting and keeping going a conversation. He would have been quite at home in the eighteenth century when conversation was the chief recreation of civilised men. But his conversation was always of a spiritual turn, and it was a proof of his special gift that he could interest anyone in religious matters. His great interest was the conversion of Protestants. He noted every conversion mentioned in the papers, he entered into correspondence with Protestants, he got prayers said for them.
Though he endured constant mental sufferings arising from scruples, fears, inhibitions and excessive sensibility, he was usually cheerful and patient, always ready to talk with a visitor, always bright at recreation. He told a story very well, had a very fine sense of humour. He was always most interested in news about our Fathers and Brothers. It need scarcely be mentioned that his eccentricities, due for the most part to the state of his mental health, did not make religion easier for himself or for others. He was a man of deep child like piety, the Sacred Heart and Our Lady being the chief objects of his devotion.
It is hard to imagine Rathfarnham without the massive figure who sat on the seat near the exit steps, impervious to east wind or rain, or who stumped up and down on the short side walk, leaning on his stick, or who sat for hours at a time at the window of the library, looking out but not at the landscape. He was looking into himself or into the past, for he was inordinately preoccupied with self, in the phrase of the old Greek philosopher, he made himself the measure of all things! It was difficult at times to resist a feeling of pity that such gifts as he undoubtedly possessed, came apparently to so little use. But God's estimate may be very different. We do not know the value that He attached to his suffering and patience. Fr. Mulhall never said a bitter or unkind word about another, he was always studiously mild in his criticism. One who knew him well for most of his life in the Society, described him as the most charitable man he had ever met. We trust that God has given him the peace of mind for which he prayed and sought so long. In pace in idipsum dormiam et requiescam. R.I.P.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father Hugh Mulhall SJ 1871-1948
Many of the Province will recall the huge almost unwieldy figure of Fr Mulhall which moved round the Castle during their Juniorate days at Rathfarnham.

He was born in Boyle on April 9th 1871. Having spent about four years in Maynooth, he entered the Society in 1893. During the first World War he acted as chaplain, earning for himself a reputation among the troops for his kindly interest and a special aptitude fro explaining difficulties in religion in a lucid and simple manner.

The War over, he was appointed to the Mission Staff, but the malady from which he suffered for the rest of his life soon made its appearance, and he was forced to abandon active service. He suffered from extreme scruples. This affliction he bore with great patience and humility, never heard to murmur against his lot, but grateful to God who gave him so many good friends among his brethren who tried to help him in his sickness. This cross he bore for 17 years.

He died a happy death on April 10th 1948.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Commnnity

Father Hugo Mulhall (1871-1948)

Was born at Boyle, Co Roscommon and on the completion of his education at Summerhill College, Sligo, entered Maynooth College. He was received into the Society in 1893. He pursued his higher studies in England, and at Milltown Park, where he was ordained in 1905, and, on finishing his tertianship in Belgium, arrived in the Crescent in 1908. Although a man of subtle intellectual gifts, he showed no aptitude for teaching and was soon transferred to church work at which he laboured conscientiously until 1914. After some experience on the mission staff, he volunteered as a military chaplain but never served outside England. After the first world war he returned to mission work in Ireland and was later back in England engaged in retreat work.

Born: 08 December 1885, Spencer Road, Dun Laoghaire, County Dublin
Entered: 06 September 1902, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1917, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1922, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway
Died: 30 October 1956, Coláiste Iognáid, Galway

part of the Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin community at the time of death

John Joseph O’Donnell MacSheahan

Father was Assistant Secretary to the Local Government Board for Ireland and died in 1885. Mother now residing at Waterloo Road, Dublin.

Second eldest of four brothers and six sisters

Early education was by a governess and then at a local Dun Laoghaire NS, then again by a personal tutor until 1895. He then went to Clongowes Wood College SJ

Chaplain in the First World War.

by 1912 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1918 Military Chaplain : 6th RI Regiment, BEF France

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 32nd Year No 1 1957

Obituary :

Fr John MacSheahan (1887-1956)

When the death of Fr. MacSheahan was announced, a Jesuit said to me: “The Society has another martyr in heaven”. Anyone who knew him intimately, especially for the past ten or twelve years, will have no difficulty in endorsing that statement. Instinctively one thinks of him as a man enduring suffering, constant and severe, and sustaining throughout an infectious spirit of cheerfulness and trust in God. “How are you, Fr. John?” I asked him on meeting him one day in Gardiner Street. At that moment he was the wan, emaciated figure, slightly stooped, that gave you a shock if you had not seen him for a period. “How am I? Why, I'm grand! Of course you know I have lost the sight of this eye, and the hearing of this ear”, - and he indicated both, covering them for a moment with his open palm. Then the “tummy gives me no end of trouble. If only I could live without eating! And the noises go on all the time in my old head”. “You have them at this moment?” “At this moment there is a throbbing up there like an engine; it never stops, day and night. But otherwise I'm fine!!”
“Otherwise I'm fine”. That is the characteristic note. I saw him at recreation that same evening, and he laughed and joked and told stories in his own inimitable way. But who knows the heroic effort demanded daily, hourly, by this struggle extending over his whole life - for he was always a delicate man and calling for even greater courage as the end approached? This man of indomitable will I saw one day in his room and he broke down completely. His head sank into his hands and he wept freely. “It's not easy going. Life is so useless and so lonely. I wish God would take me or give me some health and relief”. But at once he gripped himself, apologised for letting me see him weeping, and by the time I was going, the familiar patient smile was back again. But the incident gave me an inkling into the depths of depression that must have often crushed and nearly overpowered him. But nobody knew,
His optimism was irrepressible. He would tell you of his confidence in Our Lady during a novena he was making in her honour as one of her feasts came on. And when there was no cure and no relief Fr. John grinned and braced himself to carry on. He was in high glee when the Eucharistic Fast was mitigated. He could now have a cup of coffee in the early morning and “I don't know myself, it's such a help saying Mass”. He was keenly appreciative of even a tiny act of thoughtfulness...a letter or a visit or a promise of prayer. He told me at considerable length and with obviously deep gratitude in his voice of a reply he had received from a Superior. He had been lamenting the fact that he was such an expense and unable to do any work. He was assured on both points. He was reminded that his sufferings, borne with such Christlike patience, were beyond doubt calling down immense blessings and graces on the Province. I know how he treasured that word.
The moment he got any respite he was all out to give himself to work. At Gardiner Street he exercised a fruitful apostolate, doing full-time as “operarius”, director of the Irish-speaking Sodality, and settling down to “figures” - the House accounts. He was ever on the watch to multiply deeds of charity, visits to the sick, letters of advice or congratulation or of sympathy. All was done unobtrusively; much remained, and remains, entirely hidden. Often on returning from some errand of mercy he would get a “black-out” and collapse in the street. Such incidents never deterred him. He would joke about them afterwards. He would tell you of the four or five different occasions upon which people thought he was dead or dying.
He enjoyed in particular describing the night when, recovering from a “black out," he began to realise he was lying in a bed, and surrounded by lighted candles, They must surely believe that this time he really is dead, and he wondered hazily if perhaps they mightn't be right! But again he came back from the tomb. The electricity had failed that night, that was all.
Fr. MacSheahan entered the Society at Tullabeg, in 1902, when he was seventeen. His tales of the sayings and doings of a renowned Fr. Socius provided many a good laugh, nor did they lose in the telling. He went to Stonyhurst for philosophy, to Clongowes, and Mungret for “colleges”, and he was ordained at Milltown Park in 1917. He was chaplain in France during World War I, was twice Rector of Galway, worked in the Church and School at the Crescent, and, in 1940, began his long association with Gardiner Street, He went to Rathfarnham in 1955, having himself suggested the change, which he found hard to make - because he recognised he was no longer equal to the work at Gardiner Street.
As chaplain he won the M.C. and a “bar” to it. When this distinction was commented on at his Jubilee, he replied that it meant little to him. The two letters he prized, the only two, after his name were |S.J.” His daily life was the most compelling proof that he spoke the truth,
He was a fluent Irish speaker and all his life an enthusiastic supporter of the language and culture. While his work in this field was characterised by that energy and zeal which he brought to every task, he would have been the last man in the world to obtrude his interest on others. He was unfailingly companionable. His charity at recreation, and at all times, if it did not win others to the Cause he had so much at heart, ensured at least that it did not alienate them from him, nor him from his brethren. Indeed this is understatement.
A truly Christlike priest, this great Jesuit, laden with the Cross, walked unflinchingly the hard road to his Calvary. Far from hardening him, his sufferings developed, rather, that exquisite charity which bears all things, hopes all things, believes all things. Like the Master he loved so ardently, Fr. MacSheahan was obedient even to the death of the Cross. He put the Cross down only when it was impossible for him to carry it any farther. He died in Dublin on 30th October, 1956. “From his childhood”, writes his sister, “John always impressed me with his innocence, simplicity, and humility”. May he rest in peace!

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father John MacSheahan 1885-1956
Fr John MacSheahan was a fluent Irish speaker, and all his life he was an enthusiastic supporter of our native language and culture.

He was twice Rector of Galway. The latter part of his life was spent in Gardiner Street, where he directed the Irish Sodality. He was Chaplain in WWII, and he was awarded an MC with a bar to it. But when thus distinction was mentioned at his jubilee celebration, he remarked, that the letters he prized after his name, the only two were SJ.

The last ten years of his life he suffered heroically from all kinds of complaints, and he carried on his work in spite of handicaps. At his own request he was transferred to Rathfarnham, when he felt his usefulness in Gardiner Street was at an end.

He suffered so much at this time that he often asked God to take him home, but he bore his cross obediently and resignedly until God called him on October 30th 1956.

◆ The Clongownian, 1957

Obituary

Father John MacSheahan SJ

Father MacSheahan entered the Society of Jesus at Tullabeg in 1902, when he was seventeen. After Philosophy at Stonyhurst, he returned to Clongowes as a master. He was ordained at Milltown Park in 1917. He was chaplain in France during the Great War, was twice Rector of Galway, worked in the church and school in the Crescent and, in 1940, began his long associatibn with Gardiner Street Church. He went to Rathfarnham Castle in1955, having himself suggested the change, because the recognised he was no longer equal to the Work at Gardiner Street.

As chaplain he won an M.C. with Bar: When this distinction was commented on at his Jubilee, he replied that it meant little to him. The two letters he prized most were SJ. His daily life was the most compelling proof that he spoke the truth.

He was a fluent Irish speaker and all his life an enthusiastic supporter of the language and culture. While his work in this field was characterised by the energy and zeal which he brought to every task, he would have been the last man in the world to obtrude his interest on others.

A truly Christlike priest, he walked unflinchingly the hard road to his Calvary. Far from hardening him, his sufferings developed, rather, that exquisite charity which bears all things, hopes all things, believes all things. He impressed all by his simplicity and humility. May he rest in peace.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Community

Father John MacSheahan (1885-1956)

A native of Dublin, entered the Society in 1902. On the completion of his classical studies, he began his regency at St Ignatius, Galway where he first acquired his enthusiasm for the Irish language. His higher studies were made at St Mary's Hall, Stonyhurst and Milltown Park where he was ordained in 1917. In that year he volunteered as a chaplain. After demobilisation, he completed his studies, and was appointed to Galway in 1921. He occupied the post of Vice-Rector there from 1922-1928. He was master at Sacred Heart College from 1929 to 1931 when he was appointed as Rector once more in Galway. In 1938 on relinquishing office he took up church work in Gardiner St. and with the exception of a few years at Rathfarnham, spent his remaining years there. Throughout his life in the Society, Father MacSheahan was an ardent supporter, chiefly by example, of the Gaelic language. His later years, owing to weak health, were spent in retirement.

Born: 09 May 1887, Stanmore Road, Avonside, Christchurch, New Zealand
Entered: 07 November 1903, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 15 August 1919, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 01 February 1924, Xavier College, Kew, Melbourne, Australia
Died: 22 January 1967, St John of God Hospital Richmond, NSW - Australiae Province (ASL)

Part of the Canisius College, Pymble, Sydney, Australia community at the time of death

Transcribed HIB to ASL : 05 April 1931

Older brother of Louis Loughnan - RIP 1951

Father is a barrister. Mother died in 1892 and father remarried in 1897.

Fourth of seven sons (1 deceased) and two sisters. Second marriage produced two sons, so additionally two step-brothers.

Early education at a convent school in Christchurch, he was sent then to Christ’s College (a Protestant school) for two years.Then he was st to St Ignatius College, Sydney (Riverview)

received by Fr John Ryan, Superior of Australian Mission and sent to Tullabeg.

WWII Chaplain

by 1908 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1911 in Australia - Regency

◆ David Strong SJ “The Australian Dictionary of Jesuit Biography 1848-2015”, 2nd Edition, Halstead Press, Ultimo NSW, Australia, 2017 - ISBN : 9781925043280
Basil Loughnan was educated at Christ's College and Riverview, and then entered the Society at Tullabeg, 7 November 1903. Further Jesuit studies were in Dublin and Stonyhurst, England. His regency was at Riverview, 1910-16.
He was ordained in Dublin, 8 April 1919, and returned to Australia in 1921, teaching Latin and English, and in charge of rowing at Xavier College, 1921-26. He worked then in the Norwood parish, 1926-30.
His most significant appointment was to Newman College, Melbourne University, 1930-1937, where he distinguished himself as a philosopher. At this time the general awarded him a PhD, because his Jesuit studies were recognised by the Gregorian University.
Afterwards, he spent four years at Werribee and then he taught Hebrew, Greek and the history of philosophy to Jesuit scholastics at Pyrnble from 1939-41, and from 1942-46 was a military chaplain, going to Japan at the end of the war.
When he enlisted, he put his age back so that he might get more into the action. He did his parachute jumps, when quite elderly, and slept under canvas. As a chaplain, he had no human respect, and if ever at the officers' mess the conversation became nasty, he went for the offending officers and then left the table. He was tireless in his work for the troops, and was congratulated by the chaplain general for having made more converts than any other chaplain. He got on very well with many important military people. But he also did several quixotic things. He went through the hardest jungle training and long marches as though he were a young man, all of which contributed to his declining health. It appeared that he had no concern for his own life at all.
When the war was over, he was a cripple. Gradually he became worse, until he could not walk without two sticks, and then later, not at all. Being externally rough in conversation on occasions, he covered up the depth of his spirituality, patience, courage and kindness.
He returned to North Sydney parish as chaplain to the Mater Hospital from 1948-54, until ill health forced him to retire to Pymble in 1955. He remained in poor health, and had a sad time for the remaining twelve years of his life. He spent a long time in the military hospital at Concord. Then, as age and sickness increased, he lost his bearings. Eventually he went to St John of God Hospital Richmond, NSW) and stayed there until he died.
Loughnan was one of the best original thinkers of the Australian province, and a brilliant philosopher, but highly strung, somewhat touchy and quarrelsome. His best work seemed to have been accomplished at Newman College, despite being under a very difficult and susceptible superior He worked in the university departments of history and philosophy.
In his later years his peculiarities became rather more pronounced and for the last years of his life he was quite senile. He was reputed to be an excellent carpenter, and, if one wished to keep on good terms with him, it was necessary to visit him occasionally in his workshop and admire his handicraft.
Loughnan's magnum opus entitled “Metaphysics and Ethics”, was passed by the Jesuit censors and recommended for publication by the reader of the Oxford University Press, but never published. It was a major work on the thoughts of Bradley, Bosanquet and Alexander. Loughnan had original ideas, and few could match him intellectually or meet him in the cut and thrust of debate.
His final vows were delayed because superiors believed that he should have a more lowly opinion of his own judgement and have greater reverence for the traditional views of the Jesuit ascetical writers, and the observance of common life. Superiors could not easily cope with original thinkers. However, Loughnan did lack discretion and prudence, and did not like to be contradicted. He was a very active and athletic man, a good oarsman and an enthusiastic cyclist, but he often overtaxed himself and took little care of his health. Despite later physical infirmity, his great strength and endurance ensured a long life.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 17th Year No 3 1942
Australia :

Writing on 21st February last, Rev. Fr. Meagher Provincial, reports Fr. Basil Loughnan has gone off to be a Chaplain. We have three men Chaplains now. Fr. Turner was in Rabaul when we last heard of him and it would seem we shall not hear from him again for some time to come. Fr. F. Burke was in Greece and I don’t quite know where at the moment.

Born: 27 October 1848, Dublin City, County Dublin
Entered: 26 September 1865, Loyola College, Loyola, Spain - Castellanae Province (CAST)
Ordained: 1877, Leuven, Belgium
Final Vows: 02 February 1884
Died: 18 August 1922, Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin

Early education at Clongowes Wood College SJ & Jesuit College in Spain

Nephew of Joseph Lentaigne, First Provincial of HIB - RIP 1884

by 1869 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1871 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1876 at Leuven Belgium (BELG) Studying
by 1883 at at Hadzor Hall, (FRA) making Tertianship
by 1903 in Collège Saint-François Xavier, Alexandria, Egypt (LUGD) Military Chaplain and Teacher

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Son of Sir John Lentaigne (Lawyer and Privy Counsellor and one of the first Clongowes students) and Nephew of Joseph Lentaigne, First Provincial of HIB - RIP 1884

He did his early studies in Spain, and the Philosophy and Theology in Belgium, where he was Ordained 1877.
1900 He was sent to Alexandria, Egypt as a Military Chaplain, and when he returned he was appointed Spiritual Father at Belvedere.
After this he was sent as Spiritual Father and Missioner to Clongowes which he loved dearly and did a lot of good work.
Much to his own disappointment, he was move from Clongowes to Rathfarnham, and died unexpectedly a short time afterwards 18 August 1922.

He was a very indistinct Preacher, so did not make much impact from the pulpit. He as of a very sensitive nature, and a thorough gentleman to all classes of people.

◆ Irish Province News

Irish Province News 21st Year No 3 1946
FROM OTHER PROVINCES :
England :
Fr. Quigley, who is Senior Chaplain to the British Forces in Egypt, finds the names of other Jesuit chaplains in the Register at Alexandria, and among them Fr. David Gallery (1901), Fr. V. Lentaigne (1904-5) and Fr. Joseph Flynn (1907-14).

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father Victor Lentaigne 1848-1922
Fr Victor Lentaigne was the son of Sir John Lentaigne, and a nephew of the first Provincial of then Irish Province. Born in Dublin on October 27th 1848, he made his early studies in Spain, his philosophy and theology in Belgium, where he was ordained in 1877.
He was sent as a Military Chaplain to Alexandria in 1900. On his return, he was Spiritual father in Belvedere, and later in Clongowes. He read all his sermons, and owing to indistinctness, failed to impress his flock as a preacher.
He was of a very sensitive nature, but a thorough gentleman with everybody, both poor and rich.
Being changed from Clongowes to Rathfarnham, he died very suddenly and was buried from Gardiner Street on August 18th 1922.

◆ The Clongownian, 1923

Obituary

Father Victor Lentaigne SJ

A French Doctor named Lentaigne escaped from France during the horrors of the French Revolution, and made his permanent home in Dublin, where he continued to practise his profession. He attended Wolfe Tone when the latter was dying, and saved him from execution by giving a certificate stating that the patient could not be moved without a causing his immediate death. One of his sons named Joseph joined the Jesuits. After having been for some years Prefect of Studies at Clongowes, he was sent to Australia, where he did very useful work, until his health at last broke down and he returned to Ireland, a victim of chronic asthma. His brother John, afterwards Sir John Lentaigne, became, as head of the Prison Board, nobly famous as a pioneer in the reclamation of criminals, and proved, by his success in very many cases, the soundness of his philanthropic principles. Two of his daughters became nuns, one a Carmelite in Firhouse Convent, while the other joined the Irish Sisters of Charity and became celebrated for her most able and most kind management of the Blind Asylum at Merrion. Of Sir John's sons, Joseph obtained a high Government position as Secretary to the Lord Chancellor. John became one of our most distinguished Dublin surgeons, and was knighted in recognition of his high merits; Victor, who, although not the youngest, survived all his brothers and sisters (except Benjamin, who now holds a leading legal position in Burmah), became a Jesuit.

Victor Lentaigne was born in Dublin on the 27th October, 1848. When I had been at Clongowes for about a year, Victor Lentaigne joined our ranks in the Third Line. That would have been in the autumn of 1860, or . some time in 1861. He was only at Clongowes for about twelve months when his father sent him to a Jesuit College in Spain.

While still in Spain he joined the Society, 26th August, 1865, and made his noviceship at Loyola, the ancestral home of St Ignatius. After his noviceship he was sent to Louvain in Belgium, where he studied philosophy for two years, and was sent to Stonyhurst for his third year's philosophy. In 1871 he was sent to Clongowes, where he remained until 1875. In 1871. I was also sent to Clongowes. It was the first time that we had met since we had been little boys together in dear old Clongowes, and I still cherish the memory of many happy walks and intimate chats which we had together in those old days. He was one of the simplest, gentlest, kindest and most sympathetic friends whom I have ever known, In 1875 he was sent back to Louvain for his theological studies, and on their termination in 1879, Father Victor Lentaigne came back again to our dear old Alma Mater, where I again was with him.

The winter of 1880 was a superb one for skating The field between the grand avenue and the Kapolis gate had been flooded, and there was superb surface of mirror-like ice all. over the wide expanse. Even to this hour I can see in fancy that great tall figure moving with the speed of a good motor-car, and yet with the grace and gentleness of the apparently, effortless flight of an eagle circling above in the thin air. Never have I seen man or woman skate with such combined ease and power as Fr Lentaigne.

In 1886, after a couple of years spent at Tullabeg, Father Lentaigne was again back at Clongowes. In 1888 he was sent to Galway as minister, but in 1893 he was again back in Clongowes. On the death of Father John Anderson SJ, Chaplain to the British Troops at Alexandria in 1900, Father Lentaigne was sent to take his place, and remained there until 1906, during which time a great admirer and friend of his, Father Patrick Kane SJ, held a similar position at Cairo, and they were able occasionally to meet. From Egypt he was recalled in 1906, and sent as minister to Belvedere College, but 1911 found him once more again in Clongowes. This time he was Spiritual Father to the Community. He had also the charge and care of the People's Chapel. All the people, but most especially the poor and sick, soon grew to feel for him the deepest veneration and the most affectionate gratitude. At last his health broke down completely. He be came utterly unable for work of any kind, A change was inevitable. In 1921 he was sent to Rathfarnham Castle - he had to bid his last good-bye to Clongowes. To him it was a sore wrench; he accepted it nobly and patiently, but it broke his heart. He died peacefully and happily on the 18th August, 1922.

Father Lentaigne was known as the calmest yet most masterful of Study Prefects. Seated in the high pulpit, his glance passed so quietly over the great silent Hall that it seemed as though he saw all the boys at once, until some : incautious idler suddenly felt the magnetism of a steadfast gaze fixed upon him, and looking up beheld the wide brow lowered in a frown of thunder; while from the indignant eyes beneath flashed forth an electric fire that shrivelled up the terrified culprit, who straightway cowered intently over his book or pen.

Father Lentaigne was a gentleman. This is one of the first remarks usually made by those who knew him well. It means very much more than the mere circumstance of gentle blood and good breeding. It means much more than the mere politeness of out ward manner, or social becomingness. In its full sense, which is the only true sense, it means that great broadmindedness of judgment, that generous kindliness of appreciation, that delicate sympathy for feeling, that refined considerateness for failing, or even for fault, which each and all are of the very essence of that noble character whose out ward evidences are in the word, manner, and action of high courtesy.

He loved Clongowes. He loved it with a love characteristic of the old Clongownians of long ago, a love proud, chivalrous, warm, with the tenderness and sympathy of a true home-love, a love that loved the old place itself, the old spot, the old Castle, the old Halls, the old rooms, the old playground, the old avenue, the old woods, but above all, the old schoolfellows, the old subjects and the old Masters; a love which, I trust, still exists in the minds and the hearts of the new old Clongownians who are called to face a graver, a more perilous, but it is to be hoped, a more glorious future than we of the older past. :

Father Victor Lentaigne was deeply religious, not in the sense which mere piety commonly has and is by many thought to have deserved the name, but in the old noble Christian sense of sterling holiness. God bless him, and may he rest in peace.

Robert Kane SJ

Born: 18 August 1882, Foynes, County Limerick
Entered: 07 September 1898, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 26 July 1914, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died: 16 July 1916, Kut-al-Amara, Mesopotamia, Iraq (Military Chaplain)

Chaplain in the First World War

Father a doctor at Croom. Fourth of seven brothers (1 deceased) and three sisters (1 deceased)

Educated at Sacred Heart College SJ, Limerick and then Mungret College SJ

by 1901 in Saint Joseph’s, Beirut, Syria (LUGD) studying oriental language
by 1910 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1912 at Hastings, Sussex, England (LUGD) studying

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Early education was at Clongowes.
After Noviceship he made studies at Tullabeg, and then Eastern languages at Beirut with Edmund Power.
He made Regency at Clongowes teaching Greek and Latin.
He was then sent for Philosophy to Stonyhurst, and later Theology at Hastings.
During his Tertianship in 1915 he was sent to the War as Chaplain, and he died at war 16 July 1916, at Amara, Mesopotamia.
He was a young Priest of great promise.

◆ Fr Francis Finegan : Admissions 1859-1948 - Jeremiah Augustine Hartigan, Mungret student

◆ The Mungret Annual, 1905

Scenes and Manners in Syria - from the Letters of

Michael Bergin SJ and Austin Hartigan SJ

St Joseph’s University Beyrouth

I will tell you all about our vacation, perhaps it will interest you. We went to Tanail, where our fathers have a farm and an orphanage. Tanail is situated in the Bekka or plain that lies between the Lebanon and Anti Lebanon Mountains. This plain is eighty or ninety miles long and about fifteen broad. Tanail is just in the middle of this plain and half way between Beyrouth and Damascus. We went from Beyrouth by train. The journey is very interesting. On leaving Beyrouth you pass through a very fertile plain planted with olive trees. After about half an hour begins the ascent of the mountain. It is very steep in some places, so, to make it possible for the train to mount, there is a third rail with notches and the engine has a wheel with cogs which fit into these notches and thus prevent the train from slipping back. There are some very pretty little villages in the mountaiti. Most of the Beyrouth people pass the summer in one or other of these villages. Near the top of the mountain there are some villages inhabited by Druses. These are a people whose religion is a secret. They have some very curious customs one of them is that a Druse can never dispose of his property. He can spend his income as he wishes, but the real property always belongs to the family. The train goes very slow on ascending, so one has plenty of time to enjoy the scenery. The whole journey, which includes the descent as well as the ascent, is about forty miles, and we were over four hours in the train. When you are on the top of the mountain the plain opens out before you like a great lake shut in between the two mountains. Here and there are scattered little villages and spots of verdure these latter always marking the existence of water. The descent is quickly over, but the rocking of the train is so great that two or three were on the point of getting sea-sick, Our house is about half an hour's walk from the station. There are a good many trees, nearly all poplars, on the property, and so we enjoyed the luxury, so rare in this country, of walking in the shade. The sun is very warm here. You have no idea how hot it is from nine or ten in the morning to four or five in the evening; in the night and morning it is a little cooler, At Tanail the air is much drier than at Ghazir. At Ghazir one cannot walk for a quarter of an hour without being covered with perspiration; but in the plain, though one is scorched with the sun, one scarcely perspires at all. There are some interesting walks about. Amongst others is what is called:

The Tomb of Noah
Tradition says that he died and was buried near Zahleh, a village not far from Tanail. We went to-pay a visit then to this tomb of our common ancestor. We found the place a long, low, flat roofed, rectangular building, about forty yards long and three wide, which the Musulmans use as their mosque. The whole length of this house, and just in the middle, runs a piece of masonry about two feet high, and underneath this are said to rest the mortal remains of poor Noah. He must have been inconveniently tall.

The Excusrsion which lasted Four Days
One fine day, at half-past nine in the morning, seventeen of us started. The sun seemed to be specially hot that day, still we marched on bravely, after an hour and a half we came to a river - the biggest in Syria - which had to be crossed, and as there was no bridge we had to take off our boots and stockings, tighten up our soutanes and walk through. For the next two hours and a half we did not meet a single spring, and a two hours' tramp without water, where it is so warm, is no joke. However, four hours after our departure, we came to a long-wished-for well. We drank and washed, and started again for the village where we were to pass the night. After three hours we arrived there, and went to the priest's house. The only Catholics there are of the Syrian rite, and they are not very numerous. The rest of the inhabitants are either Druses or Greek Schismatics. The priest's house was a poor little cabin, consisting of two or three rooms. He received us very well - of course we had all our provisions with us, we had two mules to carry them on their backs, not in cars, because there are no roads only paths. We cooked our dinner and ate it in the Arabic fashion, ie, without plates, knives, spoons or forks. Soon after dinner, as everyone was a bit tired; we went to rest, We had brought a sack of blankets, one for each one. Five or six slept in the parlour which was at the same time bedroom, the rest slept on mats made of rushes, some in a little room beside the house, the rest outside the door. We used our shoes as pillows. The “beds” were rather hard and the night was very hot, so we did not sleep much. Next morning we had Mass in the little chapel close by, and after breakfast we started for Mount Hermon, which is the highest peak in the Anti-Lebanon Range. I forgot to describe the parlour of the priest. The chief “ornament” was his bed. The room was carpeted, but there were no chairs. You take off your boots on entering and leave them at the door, and you sit cross-legged on the floor or on a cushion. This room was about four yards square.

There is not a single spring between the village and the top of the mountain-and in the village itself the only water they have is what they collect in cisterns during the winter. So we had to bring some with us. The climb took about five or six hours, and had it not been that we had three or four horses, which each one mount ed from time to time, I doubt if many would have arrived to the top. After about five hours it became so very steep that the horses could go no farther so we halted and dined. Thus fortified we did the last hour's climb. In the shaded hollows there was still snow. We put snow into the water we brought, and it was not too bad. The Arabs call this mountain the Mountain of the Old Man, because the snow is supposed to represent the grey hair, From the top the view is magnificent. We saw the Holy Land, the Sea of Tiberias, the Jordan, Mount Thabor, Mount Carmel; also we could see Damascus, a white speck, hidden in its gardens of verdure, and the Hauran. On the very highest point of the summit are the ruins of an old temple. After enjoying the scenery and reposing ourselves we began the descent on the other side of the mountain towards Damascus. The path was very narrow and in places very steep, however, in the evening, after about four hours march, we arrived at another little village, Kalath-el gendel, one of the dirtiest and most miserable villages I have ever seen, even in the East. Here the majority of the inhabitants are Druses.

An Arab Meal
On our way we passed through another village and we went to a house to buy a drink of milk. The only thing they had was thick milk, the people are very fond of it like that, and we, for want of butter, took it The lady of the house would not be content if we did not sit down, so she spread a mat on the floor, and on this we had to squat like tailors. In the middle was a little table about a foot high, and on this she put a bowl of milk. Then came the Arabic bread, the “hubs”. This is made of flour and water, and is almost as thin as an altar bread and quite flexible. Each cake is round and has a diameter of about two feet. But the real difficulty was to take the milk with the bread. The people never use knives or spoons, the bread does all this. They tear off a little bit of bread and make a scoop of it, with this they take their milk or whatever it may be, and each time they eat their spoon as well as what is in it. It is convenient, for after dinner they have not much to wash up. Tumblers are as rare as knives. They have water in little earthenware jars like a teapot, with a little spout. This they do not put into their mouth, they keep it a distance of about a font away, and simply pour it down their throat. In the beginning this is not so easy. The first time I tried I got more down my neck and up my nose than I got into in my mouth.

The Earthly Paradise
Leaving this early next morning we continued our journey to Damascus. The day was very hot and the country an arid waste. Still we toiled on and we were at last rewarded with a view of what Mahomed rightly called the earthly Paradise! To the way-worn traveller, dust stained and thirsty, whose eyes have been for hours blinded by the glare from the rocky soil, the city of Damascus, surrounded by its fresh green gardens, filed with every variety of fruit-trees, watered by the brimming stream, at whose source we stopped and washed, offers a vision of refreshing beauty that none can appreciate but those who, like us, have toiled through the heat of the day. Passing through the shady gardens, our ears filled with the murmuring of the clear, cool streams, refreshed by the delicious fruit that abounded on every side, we can easily understand why St Ignatius laid the scene of our First Parents' happiness in this, the East's most lovely city.

As it is the most beautiful so is it also the most characteristically Eastern. For here are gathered together all that is most un-European Here are centered all those streams of caravans that bring from far in the interior of Asia the rich products of those world-famed looms. Here is no sign of modern civilization to remind one of the distant West. To give an adequate idea of this other world, I can do no better than describe the Bazaar and some street scenes in this city of Fair Delight.

The Bazaar
It is in the bazaar that locomotion is most difficult. This gives one time to look about and admire the variety of nationalities that the traffic of the quarter has collected. Bedouins with huge high boots, a long stiff cloak of brown and white, often richly embroidered at shoulders (these cloaks “mashlah” are absolutely devoid of cut, except for short sleeves beginning at elbows and reaching to wrists), loose white drawers reaching to top of boots, embroidered vest. On the head, the “kofieyeh” or veil of brilliant colours. often of silk, ornamented with tassels. It is most graceful. This veil is secured on head by two circles of camel's hair, while the ends hang down on the back and breast or are brought up under chin, and attached to the coils above. They are finely built, these Bedouins, tall and spare, square-shouldered, active and strong, with dark piercing eyes, that seem to be everywhere at once. Druses, with snow-white turban and heavy scimitar; Turkish “effendis”, in badly made, and worse put on, European dress; Persians, in light brown hats, once and a-half as high as our tall hats, slightly conical in shape, tight-fitting dresses and flowing beards; Kurdish shepherds, dressed in skin and stiff black felt cape, reaching to knees; villainous looking Albanians, with voluminous kilts and belts bristling with weapons; add thievish-looking Circassians, effeminate Damascenes, gliding figures enveloped from head to foot in a light sheet like garment of white, or green and red shot silk, with veiled face, and called women, and you have a faint idea of the 'souls' of Damascus. Yet I have said nothing about the seller of pasties, who balances on his head a small shopful of dainties; the sherbet-seller, with a huge bottle strung round his neck, and brass cups jingling in his hand. On more than one occasion I have seen a seller of drinks and a seller of creams stand as near each other as
their implements permit, the one slaking his thirst, the other gratifying his palate, by a mutual exchange.

The Houses of Damasucs
But the glory of Damascus consists above all in its private houses. The Arabic proverb has it: “The houses of Damascus from without, sooty; from within, marble”. Nothing could be more true. Outside one would take them for the stables of the mansion, with their plain, windowless walls, and massive, ungainly doors., Enterting a narrow passage of varying length, a remnant of darker days, we find ourselves in a court with marble pavement, shaded by olive, orange, or lemon trees, and refreshed by a fountain or several of them, whose waters are contained in a deep basin of variegated marble. At one side is the “bewan”, or deep recess, strewn with rich carpets and soft cushions, and arched over in true Arabic style. Opposite is the salon, the masterpiece of the house, and where even struggling families manage to make a show at the cost of the rest of the house. Here, again, we meet the marble fountain on either side of what are the halves of the chamber, one half being raised about two feet. The walls are covered with the richest marbles, in endless variety of colour and form. Here and there are recesses backed by mirrors, while above are texts of the Koran in golden letters, entwined in the most puzzling combinations. Above these are scenes and landscapes painted in bright colours. The ceilings (which are always formed of round rafters laid so as to touch the flat cemented ceiling, leaving a space of some inches between each rafter) are painted in the most fantastic designs and often really beautiful. The effect of the whole is most striking. Now, I think, you have my impressions of what Damascus is like.

In the evening we left Damascus by rail and came back here, our minds stored with the many wonders we had seen. And now I think you know something of our life out here. I hope I have not been too tedious. If you wish I shall tell you more another time.

◆ The Mungret Annual, 1916

Obituary

Father J Austin Hartigan SJ

We have just heard, as the “Mungret Annual” is going through the press, of the deach of Father Austin Hartigan SJ, which took place from jaundice at Amara, Mesopotamia, on the 16th July. The time and space at our disposal permit us merely, to mention the sad event. His death was. announced to his mother, Mrs Hartigan, of Tarbrook, Croom, in a telegram. from the War Office on Friday, 28th July. In January, Father Hartigan had volunteered for a chaplaincy, and in May had left England with his battalion of the Connaught Rangers.

On leaving Mungret in '98, where three of us brothers had already been educated, Austin Hartigan joined the Society of Jesus. His University career was urncommonly brilliant, and he was set aside for special studies with a view to becoming a professor of Sacred Scriptures. He spent several years at the University of Beirut, where he took out his Doctorate in Oriental Letters.

Ordained in 1914, he-had just finished his long period of training, and seemed to be on the threshold of a distinguished career. But the fruit of those years of study and preparation, sanctified by a generous zeal for God's glory, he was not to reap in this world. He was the fourth son of the late Dr Hartigan, of Tarbrook, Croom, and was thirty-four years of age. To his mother and brothers we offer our deepest sympathy.

Born: 15 July 1882, Castlerea, County Roscommon
Entered: 07 September 1901, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1915, Milltown Park, Dublin
Died 18 September 1918, 16th Field Ambulance, BEF, France

Father owned a drapery store. One of seven sisters and four brothers

Early education at a Mercy convent school in Castlerea and then Clongowes Wood College SJ. After this went as an apprentice into the drapery business in Henry Street, Dublin until 1900.

by 1905 at Kasteel Gemert, Netherlands (TOLO) studying
by 1906 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1917 Military Chaplain : 16th Field Ambulance, BEF France

First World War chaplain.
See article by Steve Bellis, pp48-56, in Burke, Damien. Irish Jesuit Chaplains in the First World War. Dublin: Messenger Publications, 2014.

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Early education was at Clongowes, and he was then an apprentice at Henry Street Warehouse.

After his Noviceship he studied Philosophy at Stonyhurst, and later did Theology at Milltown. He was Ordained in 1915, and in 1916 became a Chaplain to the 16th Field Ambulance, BEF, France, where he was killed 18 September 1918.

The following notice appeared in the “Tablet” after his death
“Father John Fitzgibbon SJ (Irish Province), MC, was killed by a shell at an advanced dressing station in France September 18. The youngest son of Mr John Fitzgibbon MP for south Mayo, he was born thirty-six years ago. He was Ordained in 1915, and volunteered early in 1916, so that the whole of his Priestly life was devoted to ministry on the field. He was wounded in September 1917, and in March 1918 was gazetted to the Military Cross. His brother, Captain Michael Fitzgibbon fell at Gallipoli in August 1915. A brother-chaplain Father McGuinness CF, writes that Father Fitzgibbon expired almost immediately, after breathing a few prayers, and was buried by him in the military cemetery. ‘Catholics and those of other denominations alike speak of him i terms of admiration. His zeal for souls was untiring’. Writing to Father Nolan, Irish provincial SJ, the Principal Chaplain, Father Rawlinson CMG, says that the loss to the Catholic Religion and the Chaplain’s Department, is a considerable one, and that for two and a half years Father Fitzgibbon had done excellent work as a Priest in France, and was mourned by officers and men.

Some dramatic details concerning Father Fitzgibbon’s death are given in a letter from Father Keary CF, a brother Jesuit, who writes :
‘Father Fitzgibbon had blessed a grave and read the Burial Service over one of our boys about 2pm on Wednesday last, and was talking to a German Catholic prisoner of war in the cemetery, when a shell landed in our midst and the Father fell forward. One of our boys rushed to his help, but had only raised him to his knees when another shell burst in on them, fording him to drop his burden and fall on his face to avoid being killed himself. A few minutes later Father Fitzgibbon’s dead body was removed, and was buried the next day’.
He is the fourth Irish Jesuit Chaplain who has died during the war.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father John Fitzgibbon 1882-1918
Fr John Fitzgibbon was the fourth Irish Jesuit who lost his life as a Chaplain in the First World War.

He was born at Castlerea on July 15th 1882, the son of Mr John Fitzgibbon MP for South Mayo. He was ordained in 1915 and volunteered early in 1916, so that the whole ofhis priestly life was devoted to ministry in the field.

He was gazetted to the Military Cross in 1918. He had just blessed a grave and read the burial service over one of the troops, when a shell landed and Fr Fitzgibbon fell forward. A fellow Chaplain, Fr McGuinness reported that Fr Fitzgibbon expired almost immediately after breathing a few prayers.

He was buried in the same cemetery where he had been officiating. His death occurred on September 18th 1918.

◆ The Clongownian, 1919

Obituary

Father John Fitzgibbon SJ

It was very hard to bring one's mind to think of death in connection with Father John Fitzgibbon. When the news that he had fallen in France reached us last September it seemed hardly credible. For he was essentially a man of life and action; enthusiasm and energy radiated from him, and he was in the full vigour of life only thirty-six. But it was only too true. We gladly pay this tribute to his memory, for he belonged to Clongowes doubly.

During the three years he was with us as a boy he was prominent in the games, got first in his class (I. Prep.), and won a prize in the Intermediate. But he left school young to take up business. During the four years he spent in business he showed great promise, and would certainly have achieved success in it had he not joined the Society of Jesus in 1901.

The year 1907 found him back at Clongowes, and for five years he acted as Third Line and then as Lower Line Prefect. During his period as Prefect the impress of his strong personalty was left on everything he took in hand. Were it a concert, a tournament, a Line match he succeeded in infusing into the boys something of his own efficiency and thoroughness. How eagerly the officials of the Higher Line coveted the privilege of being present at one of Mr Fitzgibbon's entertainments; how anxiously the Higher Line and Division calculated their remote chances of the Soccer Cup when his Eleven was in the field against them. He was ever devising some new departure to interest the Line and make the time go pleasantly. We still may see permanent traces of his work. The picturesque III Line pavilion was long known as Mr Fitzgibbon's kiosk, and it was he who put up those handsome presses that make the Lower Line library one of our show places. But his energies were not confined to these material improvements. He exerted all his influence, and it was great, to encourage the boys to read and laboured hard to direct them in their reading. In his time the library was always crowded.

With this enterprising and helpful energy there were united ready kindness, a cheery sympathy, and a personal interest in each one, which the former members of his Line have not forgotten.
In 1915 he was ordained, and almost immediately volunteered as Chaplain. The qualities he showed as a Prefect came out to even greater advantage in this new sphere, and he was very popular with the men. Cheerful friendliness, ceaseless activity, and zeal for the men's welfare, both spiritual and temporal, were his characteristics. No one questioned his bravery. He was awarded the MC, and when the rumour went round that he had been recommended for the VC, those who knew him were not surprised. A Chaplain who knew him at the front speaks of him as “naturally gallant and fearless”.

The following little incident will be of interest. It is related by Mr R P Gill, of Fattheen House, Nenagh, the father of many Clongownians. During one of the terrible retreats in April, 1918, his son Owen was riding along while his servant was leading a mule carrying his kit. “Just as they came to a place marked “dangerous”, the mule upset all his belongings. While gazing at them ruefully he saw coming towards him a padre riding a splendid big horse, and, he said, a better matched pair he never saw - the magnificent-looking Chaplain so well mounted. To his delight he recognised his old friend as a boy, dear, brave Father Fitzgibbon, who recognised Owen instantly. Well they had a long shanachie about Clongowes and all the lads they knew.

At the end of August and the beginning of September he had the great privilege of a visit to Lourdes, On the very day he was killed his parents received a letter full of enthusiastic descriptions of his stay there. He had inspiring experiences. He was besieged by hundreds wanting to serve his Mass, heard many confessions, and was the means of doing immense good. He speaks of the joy and delight of all he met at meeting an Irish priest. “When they heard that I was Irish”, he says, “No words were good enough to express their admiration for the Irish Catholics who made such a wonderful impression on everyone at Lourdes at the time of the pilgrimage. They will never be forgotten there. As you know, there is a magnificent Celtic cross erected there by the Irish pilgrims with a dedication to our Lady of Lourdes in Irish and in French”.

On the 18th of September, in the midst of his work at the front, a shell burst beside him.. He had time to utter some prayers, overheard by a soldier who was near, and in a few moments expired.

He was the son of Mr John Fitzgibbon, of Castlereagh, formerly MP for South Mayo, who had already lost in the war a younger son.

Born: 08 October 1857, Streamstown, County Westmeath
Entered: 05 January 1876, Milltown Park, Dublin
Ordained: 1888, St David's, Mold, Wales
Final Vows: 25 March 1896, St Stanislaus College, Tullamore, County Offaly
Died: 05 November 1942, Clongowes Wood College SJ, Naas, County Kildare

Early education at St Stanislaus College SJ, Tullabeg and Clongowes Wood College SJ and Catholic Collegiate School, Rathmines (St Mary's College CSSp)

Chaplain in the First World War.

by 1886 at Stonyhurst England (ANG) studying
by 1888 at St Beuno’s Wales (ANG) studying
by 1895 at Roehampton London (ANG) making Tertianship
by 1918 Military Chaplain : Catterick Bridge Camp, Yorkshire
by 1923 at Catholic Church Bournemouth, Dorset, England (ANG) working
by 1924 at Catholic Church Clitheroe, Lancashire, England (ANG) working

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/blog/damien-burke/the-last-parting-jesuits-and-armistice/

The last parting: Jesuits and Armistice
At the end of the First World War, Irish Jesuits serving as chaplains had to deal with two main issues: their demobilisation and influenza. Some chaplains asked immediately to be demobbed back to Ireland; others wanted to continue as chaplains. Of the thirty-two Jesuits chaplains in the war, five had died, while sixteen were still serving.
Fr John Elliott SJ was recuperating from pneumonia: “On next Tuesday I shall be a month here. I am only 8st 7lbs with my clothes on.”

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 18th Year No 1 1943

Obituary :
Father John Elliott SJ
Fr. Elliott was born at Streamstown, Co. Westmeath, on 8th October, 1857, and died at Clongowes after a brief illness on 5th November, 1942. He entered the Novitiate at Milltown Park, in 1878, studied philosophy at Roehampton and theology at St. Beuno’s. He was ordained priest by Bishop Knight at Mold in 1888. He was at school in Tullabeg for a year before going to Clongowes in 1870, where he remained until 1875. He was conspicuous there as an athlete, winning the mile race in his last year. He was also very fond of music and used to spend the greater part of his recreations playing the piano violin.
After entering the Society he returned to Clongowes for his Juniorate. l877-8. He was on the staff of the College as Prefect or Master, 1878-85. After his ordination in 1888 he returned to Clongowes, teaching Mathematics and Physics for several years. He was very popular as a Confessor and exercised a very considerable influence over a great number of boys - quite a number of vocations may be attributed to that influence.
In the class room his witty remarks and humorous way of putting things enlivened for many the monotony of school life. One of the Past writing to Fr. Rector after his death, said “I do not think that there was any generation of boys that did not love him”. All remember him as a very keen fisherman, and many recall very pleasant days on the banks, or in the water, of the Liffey, which river he more than once stocked with trout from a hatchery of his own construction.
He was an Army Chaplain in the last war, and subsequently worked for some years in the English Province (at Bournemouth in 1923. and at Clitheroe from 1924 to 1931).
He returned to Clongowes in 1931, and worked for a couple of years in the People's Church until his health broke down. He had very great devotion to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father John Elliott 1857-1942
Fr John Elliott was a man very dear to many generations of young scholastics at Clongowes. He was born in Streamstown in 1857, entering the Society in 1876 after being educated at Clongowes.

He taught Mathematics and Physics in his Alma Mater for several years, was very popular as a confessor, and wielded remarkable influence over the boys, many of whom owed a vocation to him. This was doe to his genial wit and his gifts as a fisherman and musician. He presented such a picture of a happy contented Jesuit that his example led many to follow him.

He was a Chaplain during the First World War, and he proved quite effective and popular with the troops, though a man of slight stature and frail frame. Having served on the English Mission, mainly at Clitheroe, until 1931, he returned to Clongowes to take charge of the People’s Church. He had a great devotion to the Mass – his constant spiritual reading was Gihr on the Mass. His second devotion was to Fr John Sullivan, to whose grave in his latter years he used walk daily to recite his beads. Being tired on one such occasion, he sat down on the grave to rest, contracted a chill and died on November 5th 1842.

A gentle and lovable soul, full of genial wisdom, his rendering of “Billy Boy” in his thin piping voice as he accompanied himself on the piano, will long be remembered by the younger generation.

◆ The Clongownian, 1943

Obituary

Father John Elliott SJ

Father Elliott’s connection with Clongowes was a very extended one. It began when he was a boy of I1 and continued, on and off, until his death a few days after he had passed his 85th birthday. Six of these years were spent here as a boy, having as companions Mr John Redmond, Fr Fegan, Judge Brereton Barry and many others who distinguished themselves in various paths of life. As a boy he was very good at games and sports, being the champion long distance runner of the school. He was very fond of music, playing with great taste both violin and piano. Even up to the last, though his repertoire had become somewhat limited, he retained an exquisite touch. During most of his time here as Master and Prefect he taught mathematics and physics. He was an expert carpenter, and during one summer vacation he made a set of desks for his class which are still in use. He also made an artificial leg for the blacksmith, Matty Dunne, who was loud in his praise of the comfort that it gave him.

For Natural Philosophy he had a great taste and would take. endless pains in preparing experiments, and in this way he made his class most interesting, and instructive. It will, however, be by his quaint and original sayings that he will be best remembered, and members of his Third and. Fourth Junior who saw the announcement of his death in the papers will have recalled many of them. One of these writing from Portugal said “I am so sorry to learn that Fr Elliott is dead, he certainly was a link with the past. I was always very fond of him at school. I loved the smell of snuff and tobacco which enveloped him, his quaint laugh and very keen sense of humour, somewhat on the dry side. I shall never forget his calling a fellow student who sat next to me, “a mere vegetable”, the name suited him admirably. He did not suffer fools gladly. Fr Elliott was also a great hero in my eyes on account of his fishing. How often I wished he would let me carry his basket as he lightly pushed off over the Lower Line crease towards the Liffey....” In a letter written to Fr Elliott from USA, by an old pupil of those days, and which reached here a dew days after Fr Elliott's death, the writer says: “I recall seeing you going in the direction of the Liffey carrying a. fishing rod. I regret that I did not receive instruction in fishing while at school from such an experienced fisherman”. A few years ago when Fr Elliott celebrated his Diamond Jubilee in the Society of Jesus a photograph of him equipped, for the occasion, in full fishing attire appeared in the papers.

But Fr Elliott. was known to very many of the Past as something more than a teacher or a fisherman or for his quaint witticisms. He was for many years, a favourite confessor and spiritual adviser, and in this capacity he exercised a deep influence over a large number of boys.

There is a pathetic interest in a letter written to Fr Rector on the day after Fr Elliott's death by Mr William Lombard Murphy who himself, one short month later, was to follow Fr Elliott to the grave. “Dear Father Rector”, it ran, “I suppose that one should not lament on hearing that that grand old Clongownian, Fr John Elliott, has been called to his reward but one cannot help feeling sad. I met him the very first day I went to Clongowes, over fifty years ago, and I remember things he said that day, and how his genial kindly manner was a help to a shy and rather frightened new boy. I do not think there was any generation of Clongowes boys that did not love him. May he rest in peace”; These words will find an echo in the hearts of very many of the Past, and would have deeply touched him of whom they were written.

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Community

Father John Elliott (1857-1942)

Born at Streamstown, Co. Westmeath, entered the Society in 1876 on finishing school at Clongowes. After his ordination in 1888, he was master of mathematics and physics at his former school. He came for the first time to the Crescent in 1902 and was on the teaching staff for the next three years. He was back again as science master from 1911 to 1917 when he left the country to become an army chaplain in the first world war. He returned for the last time to the Crescent in 1919 but remained only a year. Father Elliott was one of the most beloved masters who have passed through this college. His remaining years were spent in Clongowes.

Born: 22 May 1814, Booterstown, Dublin
Entered: 15 August 1834, Hodder, Stonyhurst, England - Angliae Province (ANG)
Ordained: 26 March 1848, Rome, Italy
Final Vows: 15 August 1867
Died: 27 July 1901, St Vincent’s Hospital, Melbourne, Australia

part of the Xavier College, Kew, Melbourne, Australia community at the time of death

by 1847 in Rome studying
by 1853 at Vals France (TOLO) studying to 1854
by 1856 in Crimea to 1857
Came to Australia 1888

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
After First Vows he was sent to Rome and France for studied, being Ordained in Rome 26 March 1848.
1851 He was Minister at Clongowes under Michael A Kavanagh.
1854 He was sent as Chaplain to the Forces in Crimea, a mission he really liked, and where he had full scope for his zeal and charity.
After he returned from Crimea he was sent teaching at Clongowes for some years, and then sent to Gardiner St, where he worked for 29 years.
At Gardiner St, sinners were converted. Many who were caught up in the world saw a different path, and the sick and destitute were visited with great care. Those who hear him Preach, especially at a “Reception” or “Profession” of a nun were hugely impressed by his sincerity. It was said that when he recited the “Hail Holy Queen” after Mass, it was as though he were speaking directly to the Blessed Virgin.
1879 He got a serious illness, and was ordered by doctors to complete change and rest. So, he was sent abroad for six months. he was a great letter writer, and his letters home during this six months contained glowing accounts of his experiences and vivid descriptions of the places he visited. On visiting Lourdes he spoke of his own delight at saying Mass there and was completely captivated by the Basilica : “Nor could you look at it, and walk through it leisurely, as I did on yesterday, without feeling that it was a work of lover - a work, I mean, of persons who had both the will to do it, the money and the skill, and who, prompted by an irresistible feeling of faith and love, and gratitude, were determined to stop at nothing!” During this six months, he visited Paray-le-Monial, Annecy and Switzerland as well, and eventually returned to Gardiner St, with an immense sense of gratitude for having been given the opportunity. He always communicate gratitude easily, and made good friends. Though some timed thought of as somewhat “rough and ready” he was an immensely sympathetic man, and he was clearly a diamond, who cared for anyone in trouble especially.
Following his experience of illness and the sense of gratitude, he was invited to consider going to Australia. He would have declined at an earlier time, so wrapped in his work and relationships. His response at this relatively late stage in life was “Come soldier! here’s a crowning grace for you - up and at it! Away from your country and friends, away off to the far off battlefield of Australia - a land you won’t like naturally, but in which I wish you to finish the fight! Fear not, I’ll give you the necessary strength, and only be a plucky soldier you, and show me what stuff is in you!”
1888 he arrived in Australia and straight away to St Ignatius, Richmond, and gave a series of Missions from there. He was then sent to St Mary’s North Shore. And so it was until his death, Retreats and Missions were his works.
He was a great enemy to self, and when advising on how to be happy he would say “Forget yourself, this is the secret. Think of Christ and His Cause only and leave the rest to Him!” He had great common sense too. He was entirely military in his ideas, and plenty of military references in his ordinary writing and publications, as seen in “The Eleven-Gun Battery, for the Defence of the Castle of the Soul”.
He had just concluded his own retreat and was conducting one for the Sisters of Mercy at Fitzroy, when he turned on his ankle coming downstairs and fractured his hip. He had an operation, but got up too quickly and had a recurrence, and pneumonia having also set in he declined rapidly. He suffered a lot of pain, but bore it with patience, and his end was calm and peaceful on 27 July 1901 aged 88. His funeral took place at St Ignatius, Richmond with a huge crowd in attendance. His desired epitaph was “Here lies one that did a soldier’s part”.

Note from William Ronan Entry :
A Few years after his Novitiate he went with Fr Patrick J Duffy as a Chaplain in the Crimean War, where he worked for more than a year in the hospitals of Scutari Hospital (of Florence Nightingale Fame in the Istanbul Region) and other Military stations.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father Patrick Duffy 1814-1901
In Australia on July 27th 1901 died Fr Patrick Duffy in the 88th year of his life and the 67th of his life in the Society. He was born in Dublin on May 22nd 1814 and entered the Society in 1834 at Stonyhurst.

After his ordination he was sent as a chaplain to the British Forces in the Crimean War in 1854, an event which was destined to colour his spiritual life and writings for the rest of his life.

After his return from the War, he spent upwards of 29 years of fruitful and zealous work as Operarius at Gardiner Street. As a preacher he was renowned for his earnestness and sincerity, and it is related of him that he recited the “Hail Holy Queen” after Mass, as if he spoke to the Blessed Virgin there present, so earnest was the tone of his voice.

In 1879 after a severe illness, he was sent by Superiors on a tour of the continent for six months. He had a facile pen and left us lengthy and vivid impressions of the various places he visited.

At the advance age of 74, when most men would be thinking of retiring and preparing fore the end, Fr Duffy volunteered for the Australian Mission. What was it that induced him to take this up. He himself reveals the reason in a letter written to a friend some years later :
“Oh, dear me! Had I hesitated when I got the invitation years ago, to break the remaining ties and quit all, what an unhappy man, comparatively speaking, I should be today! I saw then what I see now, the mercy which said ‘Come Soldier, here’s a crowning grace for you, up and at it. Away from your country and your friends. Away to the battlefield of Australia - a land you won’t like naturally, but in which I wish you to finish the fight”.

For about fourteen years he worked unceaselessly on missions and retreats throughout Australia. He always regarded these as “campaigns” and conducted them as “pitched battles”, due to his experiences as a chaplain.

In 1887 he embodied his ideas of the spiritual life in a booklet entitled “The Eleven Gun Battery for the Defence of the Castle of the Soul”, to which is added “A Day-book for Religious of the Art of leading in Religion a holy and happy life, and dying as a certain consequence a holy and happy death”.

◆ The Clongownian, 1902

Obituary

Father Patrick Duffy SJ and Father Charles Walshe SJ

We regret to announce the deaths of two Jesuits long connected with Clongowes both as boys and masters-Father Patrick Duffy and Father Charles Walshe.

Father Duffy died at the ripe old age of 88 in Melbourne, Australia. He entered Clongowes as a boy in 1829 and having passed with distinction through the various classes, he joined the Novitate of the Society of Jesus in 1834. Early in his priestly career he was sent out as chaplain to the forces during the Crimean war, a mission which was peculiarly agreeable to him, and to which in after years he often referred with pleasure. He was beloved by the soldiers an Irish regiment - and on one occasion it is said that they refused to march unless their chaplain were allowed to accompany them. He had a fine, manly, soldierly spirit, a most guileless nature, and he was full of ardour. He was for many years on the staff at Clongowes, and later at St Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street, Dublin. As late in life as his 70th year he volunteered to give his Services to the Australian Mission, where he worked till the end with the zeal and zest of a
youthful beginner.

Born: 03 March 1873, Dalkey, County Dublin
Entered: 31 March 1891, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 28 July 1907, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1909, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Died :16 August 1917, Ypres, Belgium

Younger Brother of Charles Doyle - RIP 1949

◆ HIB Menologies SJ :
Educated by the Rosminians at Ratcliffe, Leicstershire, England.
After First Vows he studied Philosophy at Enghien and Stonyhurst.
He was then sent for Regency teaching at Belvedere College SJ, and later also as a Prefect at Clongowes Wood College SJ.
1904 He was sent for Theology to Milltown Park, Dublin and was ordained there after three years.
Afterward, to Drongen, Belgium for Tertianship.
He then became Minister at Belvedere, and was put on the Mission Staff, where he displayed outstanding qualities, especially as an orator in the pulpit.

He was something of a literary person as well. He founded the “Clongownian”, wrote regularly in the “Messenger” and wrote some booklets and a life of the French Jesuit Paul Ginhac.

In the early years of the Great War he volunteered for service as a Military Chaplain. 15 November 1915 he wrote “Received my appointment from the War Office as Chaplain to the 16th Division”. 01 January 1916 He moved with his regiment (8th Royal Irish Fusiliers) from Whitely to Bordon. he remained with this group until he was killed 16 or 17 August 1917 near Ypres.

Notice in the “Irish Independent” 25 August 1917 :
“When Irish troops advanced at Ginchy, Father Doyle was in the thick of the fighting ministering to the wounded, and for conspicuous bravery then, was awarded the Military Cross. The story of his Priestly devotion in the advance at the Zonnebeke River, when he met his death while administering the Last Sacraments to his stricken countrymen, has been borne testimony to alike by Northern Orangemen and Catholic Nationalists, and it is admitted by all who witnessed his courage and indifference to danger that his heroism will rank among the great unselfish, self-sacrificing deeds of the war.”
Mr Percival Phillips writing on his death in the “Morning Post” :
“The Orange will not forget a certain Catholic Chaplain who lies in a soldier’s grave in that sinister plain beyond Ypres. he went forward and back on the battlefield, with bullets whining about him, seeking out the dying and kneeling in the mud beside them to give the Absolution, walking with death with a smile on his face, watched by his men with reverence and a kind of awe, until a shell burst near him and he was killed. His familiar figure was seen and welcomed by hundreds of Irishmen who lay in that bloody place. Each time he came back across the field he was begged to remain in comparative safety. Smilingly he shook his head and went again into the storm. He had been with his boys at Ginchy and through other times of stress, and he would not desert them in their agony. They remember him as a Saint - they speak his name with tears.”
Sir Philip Gibbs KBE wrote :
“All through the worst hours and Irish Padre went about among the dead and dying giving Absolution to his boys. Once he came back to HQ, but would not take a bite of food or stay, though his friends urged him. he went back to the field to minister to those who were glad to see him bending over them in their last agony. Four men were killed by shell fire as he knelt beside them, and he was not touched - until his own turn came. A shell burst close and the Padre fell dead.”
A Soldier writing :
“Father Willie was more than a priest to them, and if any man was loved by the men it was he, who certainly risked every danger to try and do good for their bodies as well as their souls.
A Fellow Chaplain wrote 15 August 1917 :
“Father Doyle is a marvel. They may talk of heroes and Saints, they are hardly in it. he sticks it to the end - shells, gas, attack. The first greeting to me of a man from another battalion, who had only known Father Doyle by sight was ‘Father Doyle deserves the VG more than any man who ever wore it. We cannot get him away from where the men are. If he is not with his own, he is in with us. The men would not stick half of it were it not for him. If we give him an orderly, he sends the man back. He doesn't wear a tin hat, he is always so cheery’.”
An Officer writing :
“Father Doyle never rests, night and day. he finds a dead or dying man, does all he can, comes back smiling, makes a little cross, goes out and buries him. It would be the proudest moment of my life if I could only call him VC.”
(cf Father William Doyle SJ, by Professor Alfred O’Rahilly ISBN 9782917813041)

◆ Royal Irish Academy : Dictionary of Irish Biography, Cambridge University Press online :
Doyle, William Joseph Gabriel
by David Murphy

Doyle, William Joseph Gabriel (1873–1917), Jesuit priest and military chaplain, was born 3 March 1873 at Melrose, Dalkey, Co. Dublin, youngest child of Hugh Doyle, registrar of the insolvency court, and Christine Doyle (née Byrne). He was educated by the Rosminian Fathers at Ratcliffe College, Leics., and entered the Society of Jesus in Ireland (March 1891). On completing his novitiate he taught at Clongowes Wood College, Co. Kildare (1894–8), founding the college magazine The Clongownian (1895). He then studied philosophy at Enghien, Belgium, and Stonyhurst College, England, before returning to Ireland to teach once more at Clongowes and later Belvedere College, Dublin. His final theological studies were taken at Milltown College, Dublin (1904–7), and he was ordained in July 1907. After completing his tertianship at Trenchiennes, Belgium, he began to work as an urban missionary and retreat-giver in Dublin. Due to his positive attitude he was a great success at this work and also travelled around England, Scotland, and Wales. Recognising that urban labourers were in great need of spiritual direction, he proposed that a special retreat house be opened in Dublin to cater for the needs of the working classes. He also wrote several best-selling pamphlets including Retreats for working men: why not in Ireland? (1909), Vocations (1913), and Shall I be a priest? (1915).

At the outbreak of the first world war he volunteered to work as a military chaplain and was posted (November 1915) to 8th Bn, Royal Irish Fusiliers, 16th (Irish) Division. Arriving in France early in 1916, he soon gained a reputation for bravery and was recommended for the MC (April) for helping to dig wounded men out of a collapsed shelter under fire. Present at the battle of the Somme from its beginning in July 1916, he was awarded the MC (January 1917) for his work with casualties during the battle. He was transferred to 8th Bn, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, in December 1916 and greatly impressed the men of his new unit. The CO of the battalion, Lt-col. H. R. Stirke, later said that Fr Doyle was ‘one of the finest fellows that I ever met, utterly fearless, always with a cheery word on his lips, and ever ready to go out and attend the wounded and dying under the heaviest fire’. He was killed in Belgium, along with two other officers, while going to the aid of a wounded man on 16 August 1917 during the third battle of Ypres. His body, supposedly buried on the spot by men of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, was never recovered. He was recommended posthumously for both the VC and DSO, but neither was granted.

Personal papers, opened after his death, were the basis of Alfred O'Rahilly's biography of Doyle (1920), and he became a focus of popular devotion in Dublin. The papers also revealed that Doyle had inflicted extreme physical punishments on himself since his novitiate, perhaps since childhood. In August 1938 the cause for his canonisation was proposed and relevant documentation sent to Rome. The cause subsequently fell silent. There is a substantial collection of Doyle papers in the Jesuit archives, Leeson St., Dublin.

Fr W. Doyle papers, Jesuit archives; Alfred O'Rahilly, Fr William Doyle, S.J.: a spiritual study (1920); Henry L. Stuart, ‘Fr William Doyle S.J.’, The Commonweal, no. 8 (11 Nov. 1925), 11–14; Sir John Smyth, In this sign conquer (1968); Louis McRedmond, To the greater glory: a history of the Irish Jesuits (1991); Tom Johnstone and James Hagerty, The cross on the sword: catholic chaplains in the forces (1996)

◆ Jesuits in Ireland : https://www.jesuit.ie/news/commemorating-willie-doyle-sj/

Fr Willie Doyle SJ – a lesson for Europe

In a lengthy article for the UK Independent, renowned British writer and journalist Robert Fisk has used the exemplary life and death of Irish war chaplain Fr Willie Doyle SJ as an anti-Brexit morality tale. “The image of an Irish Catholic going to the aid of a (Protestant?) German in little Catholic Belgium, wearing the battledress of a British soldier,” Fisk writes, “is surely the finest image of what the EU was supposed to embrace and redress: that there should never again be a European war.” He concludes with a stern reproof of the British Prime Minister: “Theresa May, hang your head in shame.”

Fisk was prompted to write the article by a talk on the life of Fr Doyle, given in Dalkey Library on Tuesday, 15 August, by Damien Burke of the Irish Jesuit Archives. The talk, which was attended by more than 60 people, was one of a number of events to mark the centenary of Fr Doyle’s death at the Battle of Passchendaele in Flanders in August 1917.
The fact that Fr Doyle was himself a Dalkey native added poignancy to Damien’s account of his life and his death in the trenches. The slides which Damien presented of Fr Doyle’s letters, writings, and personal belongings, which had been preserved for many years in Rathfarnham Castle, were also touching.

At the same event in Dalkey Library, Dr Patrick Kenny discussed his book on Fr Doyle, entitled To Raise the Fallen. Amazingly one of the parishioners present was a 105-year-old woman who remembered the news of Fr Doyle’s death!

RTE’s Morning Ireland covered the Dalkey event. Damien Burke and Fergus O’Donoghue SJ of the Irish Jesuit Archives were interviewed for a package about Fr Willie Doyle, which you can listen to here. A commemorative Mass for Fr Doyle was celebrated on 16 August in Dalkey Church. Since his remains were never found some people considered this to be his real requiem, albeit one hundred years after his untimely death. At the Mass, Fr McGuinness referenced the self-sacrificing love that Fr Doyle had for the men who engaged in the horrific war.

Centenary events to mark Fr Doyle and the other Jesuit chaplains of the First World War continue in the coming months. This Friday, 1 September, a documentary by Irish Times journalist Ronan McGreevy entitled, ‘The Irish at Passchendaele’, featuring the story of Jesuit chaplain Willie Doyle, will be screened at Veritas House, 7-8 Lower Abbey Street, Dublin 1, at 1pm.

And in October, there will be a Dalkey-themed RTE Nationwide programme in which Fr Doyle will feature. Material from the Fr Willie Doyle exhibition currently on display in Dalkey Library will be incorporated in an exhibition on ‘Jesuit chaplains and Rathfarnham Castle 1917’ at Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin, 2 November- 3 December 2017.
There will also be an exhibition on ‘Fr Michael Bergin SJ and Australian Jesuit chaplains’ at Roscrea Library, Tipperary, from 2 to 27 October 2017.

Also worth noting is the attention garnered by the remarkable graphic short entitled ‘A Perfect Trust’ by Alan Dunne, which is displayed in the Dalkey Library exhibition. It has been nominated for an Irish Design Award

https://www.jesuit.ie/who-are-the-jesuits/inspirational-jesuits/willie-doyle/

A champion at the front
The third of March marks the birthday anniversary of Willie Doyle, who was killed in the Battle of Passchendaele, Flanders in 1917. He was one of thirty-two Irish Jesuit chaplains in the First World War. His life and the lives of his fellow-chaplains were commemorated, around the centenary date of his death on 16 or 17 August (exact date of death unknown), at a number of events in Dublin in 2017. The exhibition ‘Jesuit chaplains in the First World War’ continued its tour in April 2018 at Stillorgan Library, Dublin where material relating to Jesuit chaplains in 1918 and Fr Doyle was on show.

To us today the First World War can only be seen as an indescribable waste of life, a cause which served no purpose other than the decimation of an entire generation. Willie Doyle served and died in the Great War; he willingly put himself forward again and again to help those with him, and in the end it cost him his life.

Willie Doyle was born in Dalkey, just outside of Dublin, in 1873, the youngest of seven children. His education took place both in Ireland and at Ratcliffe College, in Leicester. At eighteen he joined the noviciate for the Society of Jesus, a decision he reached after reading Instructions and Consideration on the Religious State by St Alphonsus. In 1907 he was ordained as a priest, and spent several years following as a missionary, travelling from parish to parish all across the British Isles.

With the outbreak of the First World War in 1914, Doyle volunteered, knowing that many would be in need of guidance and assistance in the time to come. He landed in France in 1915 with the Royal Irish Fusiliers, serving as chaplain. He went to the front, serving in many major battles, including the Battle of the Somme. Out on the battlefield Doyle risked his life countless times, seeking out men where they fell dying in the mud to be with them in their last moment and to offer absolution; those who served with him described him as fearless. His selflessness was not just given to those who shared his faith; Doyle was a champion too among the Protestant Ulstermen in his battalion.

In August 1917 he was killed by a German shell while out helping fallen soldiers in no man’s land. Three other Irish Jesuits were killed in the war along with two who died from illness. Doyle was awarded the Military Cross, and he was put forward for the Victoria Cross posthumously but did not receive it. According to the National Museum of Ireland, this was arguably due to the “triple disqualification of being an Irishman, a Catholic and a Jesuit”.

The commemoration in 2017 by the Irish Province took the form of an exhibition on Fr Doyle, which was launched at Dalkey library, and the National Museum of Ireland exhibited some of his chaplain effects from the front. Bernard McGuckian SJ told his story as part of a collection of essays in the book Irish Jesuit chaplains in the First World War.
Watch the trailer below for Bravery Under Fire, a docudrama on his life.

https://www.jesuit.ie/news/film-forgotten-hero/

Film on ‘forgotten hero’
Details of a docudrama about the life of wartime hero Fr. Willie Doyle SJ have just been released by the Catholic network EWTN (Eternal Word Television Network).

The docudrama already dubbed Ireland’s Hacksaw Ridge, has the working title Bravery under Fire. It will explore the life of Fr. Doyle, showing his bravery as an army chaplain in World War I when, disregarding the advice of his superiors and his own personal safety, the Irish Jesuit saved many lives, repeatedly going into no man’s land to drag soldiers back to safety.

EWTN say the story is an ‘inspirational’ one and they have appointed Newcastle Co. Down man Campbell Miller to direct it. He is filming on location in Passchendaele, Ireland and England.

In April 2018, for the very first time, the historic events will be brought to the big screen and will include readings from Fr Willie’s personal diaries, historical footage and re-enactments of his many brave actions.

Producer Campbell Miller said, “I accepted this project as I believe Fr Willie Doyle is a forgotten hero. While other soldiers have got the Victoria Cross for showing one act of bravery, Fr. Doyle performed miraculous acts of bravery each day he was on the front line. In this secular age there is a lot to be learned from his actions, his teachings and his respect for all others regardless of their creed.”

The high budget docudrama is the first of its kind for EWTN Ireland, and it will bring significant job opportunities for local cast and crew, when it goes into production here in Ireland next month.

Speaking about the movie and its producer, the CEO of EWTN Ireland, Aidan Gallagher said, “We are absolutely delighted to be producing this movie. It will bring the story of Fr Doyle and his selfless heroism to a wider audience. It is a new opportunity for EWTN and I wish Campbell every success..”

Campbell, who studied film at Ball State University in Indiana, brings to the project over 10 years of experience directing documentaries and short films and a proven track record in producing award winning films — receiving accolades in film festivals around the world, including Orlando, New York, New Jersey, and London, to name but a few.
Campbell’s award winning films, Respite at Christmas and Family, were pivotal in EWTN selecting him as the Director of the film.

The film will be shot in London and Belgium, with the majority of its World War I re-enactments taking place in Ireland.

https://www.jesuit.ie/blog/damien-burke/a-sparrow-to-fall/

A sparrow to fall
Damien Burke
A BBC Northern Ireland documentary, Voices 16 – Somme (BBC 1 NI on Wednesday 29th June,
9pm) explores the events of 1916 through the testimony of the people who witnessed it and their families. Documentary makers and relatives of Jesuit chaplain Willie Doyle were shown his letters, postcards and personal possessions kept here at the Irish Jesuit Archives. In the 1920s, Alfred O’Rahilly used some of these letters in his biography of Fr Willie Doyle SJ. Afterwards they were given to Willie’s brother, Charles, and were stored for safekeeping in the basement of St Francis Xavier’s church, Lower Gardiner Street, Dublin in 1949. In 2011, they were accessioned into the archives.
Fr Willie Doyle SJ was one of ten Irish Jesuits who served as chaplains at the battle of the Somme (1 July- 18 November 1916): seven with the British forces; three with the Australian. Their letters, diaries and photographs witness their presence to the horror of war.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 1st Year No 4 1926

The third edition of the life of Fr Wm Doyle SJ has received high praise on both sides of the Atlantic. Reviewers foretell for it a place among the classics of ascetical literature. It is a treatise on the spiritual life, in which the truths of spirituality are not treated in an abstract manner, but brought home to us by the life of one who shared the common experiences of us all. The sale of the book has been rapid. Already half of the English edition has been sold, the American edition is nearly exhausted. German, Italian, and Dutch translations have appeared, A French translation is in the press, and a Spanish is nearly complete. An abridged Polish translation is also in hand.

Irish Province News 23rd Year No 4 1948

Manresa House, Dollymount, Dublin.
.......... Fr. C. Doyle is equipping and furnishing the domestic chapel as a memorial to Fr. Willie, who worked so tirelessly for the establishment of workingmen's retreats in Ireland.

◆ James B Stephenson SJ Menologies 1973

Father William (Willie) Doyle SJ 1873-1917
Father William Doyle, or Father Willie as he was affectionately know, was born in Dalkey County Dublin on March 3rd 1873. He was educated at Ratcliff College, Leicestershire, conducted by the Fathers of the Institute of Charity. He became a Jesuit in 1891 and was ordained at Milltown Park in 1907.

He was possessed of great literary ability. He founded the “Clongownian” and translated the life of the famous French Jesuit, Pére Gignac. He was a frequent contributor to “The Irish Messenger” and wrote a number of other pamphlets which showed considerable research and erudition. He was a pioneer in the movement of retreats for the working man, to advance which he wrote his pamphlet entitled “Retreats for workingmen : Why not in Ireland?” He was also a great missioner and preacher, being attached to the Mission Staff for many years. As a pulpit orator, he won signal admiration in all parts of the country, both at hone and in England. It was during this period that he wrote his famous and still popular and useful pamphlet on “Vocations”.

In 1915 he was posted to the 16th Division of the 8th Royal Irish Fusiliers as chaplain. He has been very fortunate in his biographer, for his life by Monsignor Alfred O’Rahilly is world famous. Written in 1920, it has already run through at least four editions. In that biography, details are given of Fr Willie’s heroism on the field in the Battle of the Somme and Ypres, and of the love he evoked in all, both Catholics and Protestants.

In the same biography will be found and exhaustive account of his interior life, so remarkable for its absolute dedication in every detail of life to the Lord, so permeated with mortification and penance. He indulged in the “follies” of the saints, the most outstanding of which was standing up to his neck in the pond at Rathfarnham Castle and rolling himself in nettles.

He was killed while ministering to the troops at the Battle of Ypres on August 17th 1917. He died as he wished – a Martyr of Charity – and that his sacrifice was acceptable seems proven by the wide devotion which sprang up to him, not only in this country, and by the number of cures which have been wrought through his intercessions.

◆ The Belvederian, Dublin, 1918
Obituary
Father William Doyle SJ
“He went forward and back over the battlefield with bullets whining about him, seeking out the dying and kneeling in the mud beside them to give them Absolution, walking with Death with a smile on his face, watched by his men with reverence and a kind of awe until a shell burst near him, and he was killed”.

These words of an English war correspondent describe the death of Fr Doyle, and they are a sufficient commentary on his life. In all that he undertook he was sincere and whole-hearted, and wherever he went the charm of his manner and the saintliness of his life won love and admiration. Those who knew him as a member of the staff in Belvedere will realise what his loss means to so many. To his relatives, and especially to his brother, Rev Charles Doyle SJ, an other past member of the Belvedere Community, we offer our most sincere sympathy. RIP

◆ The Clongownian, 1918
Obituary
Father William Doyle SJ

Father William Doyle SJ was killed on the 17th of last August as he was ministering to the dying on a battlefield in France. He was never a pupil of Clongowes; but he was long a member of the Clongowes community, and he was the founder and first editor of the “Clongownian”. It is, therefore, but right that the “Clongownian” should pay a tribute to his memory.

Father Doyle was educated at Ratcliffe College, Leicester, where he spent six years. In 1891 he entered the Irish Province of the Society of Jesus. Three years later he came to Clongowes as a master. The writer, though never taught by him, remembers his cheery smile and infectious gaiety. In December of the following year, 1895, appeared the first number of the “Clongownian”. Father Doyle, as we have said, was its founder, and for the next three years - till June, 1898 - he continued to be its editor. He brought out six numbers in all, for in those days the “Clongownian” came out twice in the year, Then he left Clongowes for three years to study on the Continent. At the end of that time he returned to take up the duties of a prefect, first of the Third and then of the Lower Line. In 1904 he finally left Clongowes to complete at Milltown Park his studies the priesthood. He was ordained in 1907.

For some years he worked in Dublin at Belvedere College. Then he was placed upon the mission staff, and stationed first Limerick and afterwards at Rathfarnham. Hardly was he well launched upon his career as a missioner when the call came to him to serve as a military chaplain in the great war. But during those few years he show what great things he might have done had it pleased God spare him. It was the work for which his zeal had longed, directly spiritual work, immediate contact with souls. He was a very effect preacher and his activity was untiring, but it was his holiness that was the main factor of his success. A fellow missioner writes of him: “Father Doyle was a very great saint... The first mission. was at with him man said, ‘you are holy, but Father Doyle is a saint’.. Every priest wanted him. He used to down at 5.30 am, to factory doors and get all the boys and girls who were not coming. He used to go down to steamers coming in at midnight and bring all the sailors to confession. At the ‘Holy Hour’ I have seen the church in tears when he gave it. He did as much as three and said he loved have more work than he could do”. One who knew him well describes his missionary life as one of “extra ordinary zeal and self-sacrifice”.

The intervals of his missions he spent in other works of zeal, in writing, and in long hours of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. Those who lived with him hint also at severe austerities practised. One of his great aims was to establish a system of Retreats for workingmen. But this part of his life will be more worthily told in the booklet about him that is to be published. Let us pass on to the closing scenes.

Early in 1916 Father Doyle reached the front as Chaplain to the Royal Dublin Fusiliers. The rest is best told in the words of those who witnessed his work. Here is a letter from an Irish officer of the Division :

Do the boys who read this remember our share in the battle of the Somme last year? The winter of last year in Belgium? SP 13 and the little dugout of the brave padre rise up before me as I write. Liège Farm, and early Mass when our battalion was in reserve. Often have I knelt at the impromptu altar serving that Mass for the padre in the upper barn, hail, rain, and snow blowing in gusts through the shell-torn roof. Then on all occasions his wonderful words of cheer during his little sermon to the “boys”. “God bless Father Doyle” is the heartfelt. wish of all the men of the Irish Division to-day.

He knew no fear. As Company Officers, how many times have we accompanied him through the front line system to speak a word to the men. Well do we remember when at long last we went back for rest and training, how our beloved padre did the long three days march at the head of the battalion with “A” Company. Then, which of the men do not recall with a tear and a smile how he went “over the top” at Wytschaete? He lived with us in our newly-won position, and endured our hardships with unfailing cheerfulness. In billets he was an ever welcome visitor to the companies, and our only trouble was that he could not always live with whatever company he might be visiting, ...

Ypres sounded the knell. Recommended for the DSO, for Wytschaete, he did wonderful work at Ypres, and was recommended for the VC. Many a dying soldier on that bloody field has flashed a last look of loving recognition as our brave padre rushed to his aid, a braving the fearful barrage and whistling machine-gun bullets, to give his boys a last few words of hope. Yes, we have lost a father and friend whose place we will find it very hard to fill. Our gallant Jesuit chaplain has gone to the bourne from which no traveller returns, and he has taken with him the hearts of the Irish soldiers in France. A true Soggarth Aroon, may his soul rest in peace. FK

Writing just two days before the end, a fellow-chaplain says of him :

Father Doyle is a marvel. They may talk of heroes and saints; they are hardly in it. He sticks it to the end the shells, the gas, and the attack.

The first greeting to me of an adjutant of another battalion, who had only known Father Doyle by sight, was : “Father Doyle deserves the VC more than any man who ever wore it. We cannot get him away from where the men are. If he is not with his own, he is in with us. The men could not stick half of it were it not for him. If we give him an orderly, he sends the man back. He doesn't wear a tin hat; he is always so cheery.

It would be easy to fill pages of the “Clongownian” with such tributes. Perhaps one of the most convincing and sincere is that paid by an Ulster man, writing shortly after Father Doyle's heroic death:

God never made a nobler soul. Father Doyle was a good deal amongst us. We could not possibly agree with his religious opinions, but we simply worshipped him for other things. He didn't know the meaning of fear, and he did not know what bigotry was. He was as ready to risk his life and take a drop of water to a wounded Ulsterman as to assist men of his own faith and regiment. If he risked his life in looking after Ulster Protestant soldiers once, he did it a hundred times in the last few days. They told him he was wanted in a more exposed part of the field to administer the last rites of his Church to a fusilier who had been badly hit. In spite of the danger to himself, Father Doyle went over. While he was doing what he could to comfort the poor chap at the very gates of death, the priest was struck down. He and the man he was ministering to passed out of life together. The Ulstermen felt his loss more keenly than anybody, and none were readier to show their marks of respect to the dead hero priest than were our Ulster Presbyterians. Father Doyle was a fine Christian in every sense of the word, and a credit to any religious faith. He never tried to get things easy. He was always sharing the risks of the men, and had to be kept in restraint by the staff for his own protection. Many a time have I seen him walk beside a stretcher trying to console a wounded man, with bullets flying around him, and shells bursting every few yards.

One might well think that, humanly speaking, such a life must needs have a speedy ending: yet he was spared for nearly eighteen months. At last the end came. It is not possible to know with certainty the circumstances of it. Certain, however, it is that it came in the very midst of his work of mercy, in the firing line, as he was giving the last sacraments to the dying.

“On the day of his death”, writes General Hickie, CO of the 16th Division, “he had worked in the front line, and appeared to know no fatigue - he never knew fear. He was killed by a shell towards the close of the day, and was buried on the Frezenberg Ridge. Father Doyle”, he adds, “was one of the best priests I have ever met, and one of the bravest men who have fought or worked out here. He did his duty, and more than his duty, most nobly, and has left a memory and a name behind him that will never be forgotten”.

May his memory be an example and an inspiration for all who read his story.

-oOo-

From Father Doyle’s First “Clongownian”

We need make no apology for reproducing here the following paragraphs from the first number of our magazine, We think they will bear repetition,

To many it has long been a source of regret, that when Clongownians leave their Alma Mater and go forth to face the stern battle of life, they so quickly lose sight of, and interest in, their old college. This is but natural, and the fulfilment of the old proverb. Of the numbers who, year by year, leave these walls for the last time, never to return under the same conditions of dependence, many are to-day as true and faithful sons of Clongowes as when five, twenty, aye, forty long years ago, they studied at their desks or fought on the cricket field for the honour of their college. But of the remainder, scattered all over the globe, far from those little incidents which help so much to keep the Past in touch with the Present, of these must we not say that in many instances they have little in common with us, except the name of Clongownians ?

When, therefore, the proposal was made to start a Clongowes Magazine, which, while chronicling the doings of the Present Generation, might also be a record of the labours and achievements of those who have gone before, the proposal met with the warmest sympathy and support.

“The Clongownian”, then, is to be a connecting link between their Alma Mater and those who bear her name; its pages, written by her sons, will tell them what things are done within its walls, what fresh honours gained, be it in the arena of intellectual contest, or on the sod with ball or bat, while with no less interest will the Present sons of Clongowes learn that they themselves, and those, whom before they regarded with respect, if not with admiration, are children of the same Mother.

-oOo-

Father Doyle at Loos and Ginchy

We publish the following letter as giving a wonderfully vivid account of the dangers and trials of a Chaplain's life, and, incidentally, a very realistic picture of what war means. It was written for the Ratcliffian, to the kindness of whose Editor we owe the permission to reprint it here.

On Sunday, September 3rd, definite news came that we were destined for the front. We had reached the spot from where I last wrote a few days previously, which, strange to say, bore the familiar name of Bray. This is part of one huge camp which stretches for miles and miles. I had never seen such a scene of life and animation before. Picture to yourself the whole of the Three Rock Mountain, the Vale of Shanganagh, Killiney, Bray Head, and far beyond Greystones, covered with a dense mass of men, horses, guns, and wagons, with piles of stores all round. Tents are few, as I soon discovered, but then one does not look for comfort in the midst of war. Multiply that camp tenfold, crowd every road with columns of marching troops, with an endless stream of motor wagons, gun teams, and ammunition carts, and you will have some faint idea of my surroundings. We were camped on a high hill, at the foot of which flowed the river, which gave me the chance of a welcome scrub. Each morning I said Mass in the open, and gave Holy Communion to hundreds of the men. I wish you could have seen them kneeling there before the whole camp - recollected and prayerful, a grand profession surely of the “faith that is in them”.' More than one non-Catholic was touched by it, and it made many a one, I am sure, turn to God in the hour of need. That evening, just as we sat down for dinner, spread on a pile of empty shell boxes, urgent orders reached us to march in ten minutes. There was only time to grab a slice of bread and hack off a piece of meat before rushing to get one's kit. As luck would have it, I had had nothing to eat since the morning, and was farnished, but there was nothing for it but to tighten one's belt and look happy.

After a couple of hours tramp, a halt was called. “All implements, kits, packs, blankets, etc., to be stacked by the side of the road”, was the order. This meant business evidently, as we set off again with nothing but our arms and the clothes we stood in. If it rained we got wet, and when it got dry we got dry too. Jolly prospect, but c'est la. guerre, war is war. I held on to my Mass things, but to my great sorrow for five days I was not able to offer the Holy Sacrifice, the biggest privation of the whole campaign. One good result at least came from this trial; it showed me in a way I never realised before what a help daily Mass is in one's life. The greater part of that night I spent humming Moore's famous song, “My lodging is the cold, cold ground”. The Headquarters officers found shelter in a narrow trench under the road, open at both ends, so fresh air and ventilation were not wanting. There was no room to stretch one's legs or lie down, but we sat on the cold, cold ground (mother earth's (kitchen fires must have been out that night), and slept, or pretended to do so. Without covering or blankets sleep was impossible, but the hours crept on between short dozes and long spells of shivering, till at last the welcome sun sprang out of bed to warm us up. Morning brought another surprise. Though the country round about Loos was full of guns, one scarcely ever saw one, so carefully were they hidden, but here were our cannon, scores, hundreds of them of all sizes and shapes, standing out boldly in the fields and roaring as if they had swallowed a dish of uncooked shells.

That never-ending roar of bursting shells was one of the most trying things of the past seven days. Our guns, some at least of them, are never silent; day and night, without a moment's break, they hammer the enemy's lines at times to such a degree that it is almost useless to try and talk with the infernal roar.

What a change this is from the trench life of the past six months, where for days we never saw a soul overground. Here, though the enemy's guns were quite close, as we know to our cost, men and horses move about as calmly as if there was no such thing as war. In this valley of life and death we had our first casualties, and it was here that your poor Will also nearly left his bones. I was standing about a hundred yards away watching a party of my men crossing the valley, when I saw the earth under their feet open and the twenty men disappear in a cloud of smoke, while a column of stones and clay was shot a couple of hundred feet into the air. A big German shell, by the merest chance, had landed in the middle of the party. I rushed down the slope, getting a most unmerciful “whack” between the shoulders, probably from a falling stone, as it did not wound me, but it was no time to think of one's safety. I gave them all a general absolution, scraped the clay from the faces of a couple of buried men who were not wounded, and then anointed as many of the poor lads as I could reach. Two of them had no faces to anoint, and others were ten feet under the clay, but a few were living still. By this time half a dozen volunteers had run up and were digging the buried men out. War may be horrible, but it certainly brings out the best side of a man's character; over and over again I have seen men risking their lives to help or save a comrade, and these brave fellows knew the risk they were taking, for when a German shell falls in a certain place, you clear as quickly as you can, since several more are pretty certain to land close. It was a case of duty for me, but real courage for them. We dug like demons for our lads lives and our own, to tell the truth, for every few minutes another “iron pill” from a Krupp gun would come tearing down the valley, making our very hearts leap into our mouths. More than once we were well sprinkled with clay and stones, but the cup of cold water promise was well kept, and not one of the party received a scratch. We got three buried men out alive, not much the worse of their trying experience. but so thoroughly had the shell done its work that there was not a single wounded man in the rest of the party; all had gone to a better land. As I walked back I nearly shared the fate of my boys, but somehow escaped again, and pulled out two more lads who were only buried up to the waist and uninjured. Meanwhile the regiment had been ordered back to a safer position on the hill, and we were able to breathe once more. Our resting place that night was a fine luxurious shell-hole open to all the blasts of heaven. To make matters worse we were posted fifteen yards in front of two batteries of field guns, twelve in number, : while on our right a little further off were a half a dozen huge sixty pounders Not once during the whole night did these guns cease firing, making the ground tremble and rock like a small earthquake, till I thought my head would crack in two with the ear-splitting crashes. Shells, as one very soon learns, have an unpleasant trick of bursting prematurely as they leave the muzzle of the gun. In the next shell-hole lay the body of one of our men who had been killed in this way, so the prospect of a night spent in this dangerous position was not a pleasant one. A soldier has to go and stay where he is sent, but to move would have made little difference, for, dodge as you might, you could never get out of the line of fire of the innumerable batteries all round. Many a time have I seen the earth open in front and around me, ploughed up by bits of our own shells, which helped to make things more lively still, Rain was falling in torrents as we prepared to go to bed in our shell-hole, Seated on a box in the bottom of the hole for protection from our guns, huddled together for warmth, our feet in a pool, we watched the water trickle down the sides, and wondered how long it would take to wash us out. I have spent many more pleasant nights in my life, but never a more uncomfortable one, drenched by the falling rain, which would persist in running down my neck, ravenous enough to eat a live German, and so tired and weary that the roar of the guns failed to keep me awake. I could not help thinking of Him who often “had not where to lay His head”, and it helped me to resemble Him a little. Providence was good to us, far after some time a tarpaulin was found, which we stretched over our cave, baled out the water, and settled down for a night of “Shivery O”. Strange to say, I am not one bit the worse for this trying experience, and others like it, nor did I even get a cold.

At last came the expected order to advance I at once, and hold the front line; the part assigned to us being Louze Wood, the scene of so much desperate fighting The first part part of our journey lay through a narrow trench, the floor of which consisted of deep thick mud, and the bodies of dead men trodden under foot. It was horrible beyond description, but there was no help for it, and on the half rotten corpses of our brave men we marched in silence, everyone busy with his own thoughts.

I shall spare you gruesome details, but you can picture one's sensations as one felt the ground yield under one's foot, and one sank down through the body of some poor fellow Half an hour of this brought us out on the open into the middle of the battlefield of some day previously. The wounded, at least I hope so had all been removed, but the dead lay there stiff and stark, with open staring eyes, just a they had fallen. Good God, such a sight. had tried to prepare myself for this, but all I had read or pictured gave me little idea of the reality. Some lay as if they were sleeping quietly, others had died in agony, or had had the life crushed out of them by mortal fear; while the whole ground, every foot of it, was littered with heads or limbs, or pieces of torn human bodies. In the bottom of one hole lay a British and a German soldier, locked in a deadly embrace, neither had any weapon, but they had fought on to the bitter end. Another couple seemed to have realised that the horrible struggle was none of their making, and that they were both children of the same God; they had died hand-in-hand praying for and forgiving one another. A third face caught my eye, a tall, strikingly handsome young German, not more, I should say, than 18. He lay there calm and peaceful, with a smile of happiness on his face, as if he had had a glimpse of Heaven before he died, Ah, if only his poor mother could have seen her boy it would have soothed the pain of her broken heart.

We pushed on rapidly through that charnel house, for the stench was fearful, till we stumbled across a sunken road. Here the retreating Germans had evidently made a last desperate stand, but they had been caught by our artillery fire.

The dead lay in piles, the blue grey uniforms broken by many a khaki-clad body. I saw the ruins of what was evidently the dressing station, judging by the number of bandaged men about, but a shell had found them out even here and swept them all into the net of death.

A halt for a few minutes gave me the opportunity I was waiting for. I hurried along from group to group, and as I did the men fell on their knees to receive absolution. A few words to give them courage, for no man knew if he would return alive, A “God bless and protect you, boys”, and I passed on to the next company. As I did, a soldier stepped out of the ranks, caught me by the hand, and said: “I am not a Catholic, sir, but I want to thank you for that beautiful prayer”. The regiments moved on to the wood, while the doctor and I took up our positions in the dressing station to wait for the wounded. This was a dug-out on the hill facing Louze Wood. The previous afternoon it had been occupied by the Germans, before our men drove them out. Some poor chaps must have taken refuge there and have been bombed out, for the sides and roof were stained all over with fresh blood. At one end was a suspicious-looking mound of fresh earth, which I did not investigate too closely, but as I said a prayer for the repose of the soul, the dead German will forgive me, I trust, for sleeping on his grave.

To give you an idea of my position. From where I stood the ground sloped down steeply into a narrow valley, while on the opposite hill lay the wood, half of which the Fusiliers were holding, the Germans occupying the rest; the distance across being so short I could easily follow the movements of our men without a glass.

Fighting was going on all round, so that I was kept busy, but all the time my thoughts and my heart were with my poor boys in the wood opposite. They had reached it safely, but the Germans somehow had worked round the sides and temporarily cut them off. No food or water could be sent up, while ten slightly wounded men who tried to come back were shot down, one after another.

Under these circumstances it would be madness to try and reach the wood, but my heart bled for the wounded and dying lying there alone. When dusk came I made up my mind to try and creep through the valley, more especially as the fire had slackened very much; but once again the Providence of God watched over me. As I was setting out I met a Sergeant, who argued the point with me. “You can do little good, Father”, he said, “down there in the wood, and will only run a great risk. Wait till night comes, and then we shall be able to bring all the wounded up here. Don't forget that, though we have plenty of officers and to spare, we have only one priest to look after us”. The poor fellow was so much in earnest I decided to wait a little at least. It was well I did so, for shortly afterwards the Germans opened a terrific bombardment, and launched a counter attack on the wood.

Meanwhile we on the opposite hill were having a most unpleasant time. A wounded man had reported that the enemy had captured the wood. Communication was broken, and Headquarters had no information of what was going on. At that moment an orderly dashed in with the startling news that the Germans were in the valley, and actually climbing our hill. Jerusalem! We non combatants might easily escape to the rear, but who would protect the wounded? They could not be abandoned. If it were daylight, the Red Cross would give his protection, but in the darkness of the night the enemy would not think twice about flinging a dozen bombs down the steps of the dug-out. I looked round at the blood-stained walls and shivered. A nice coward, am I not? Thank God, the situation was not quite so bad as reported; our men got the upper hand, and drove back the attack, but that half-hour of suspense will live long in my memory. I fear you will be weary of this letter, so I shall try and finish up. I have given you an outline of my doings, and little more remains to be said, except the last day's experience at the front, Saturday, 9th. It was arranged that the 16th Division were to storm Ginchy, a strong village, against which previous attacks had failed. By good fortune we were held in reserve. At 7 in the morning our heavy guns opened fire, and till 5 in the evening rained a storm of bullets and shells on the defenders. Shortly before 5, I went up on the hill in front of the town, and was just in time to see our men leap from their trenches and dart up the slope, only to be met by a storm of bullets from concealed machine guns. It was my first real view of a battle at close quarters, an experience not easily forgotten. Almost simultaneously all our guns, big and little, opened a terrific “barrage” behind the village, to prevent the enemy bringing up reinforcements, and in half a minute the scene was hidden by the smoke of thousands of bursting shells, British and German. The wild rush of our Irish lads swept the Germans away like chaff. The first line went clean through the village and out the other side, and were it not for the officers, acting under orders, would certainly be in Berlin by this time. Meanwhile the : supports had cleared the cellars and dug-outs of their defenders; the town was ours and all well. At the same time a feeling of uneasiness was about. Rumour said some other part of the line had failed to advance, the Germans were breaking through, etc. One thing was certain, the guns had not ceased. Something was not going well. About 9, just as we were getting ready to be relieved by another regiment, an urgent order reached us to hurry up to the front. To my dying day I shall never forget that half-hour, as we pushed across the open, our only light the flash of bursting shells, tripping over barbed wire, stumbling and walking on the dead, expecting every moment to be blown into Eternity. We were halted in a trench at the rear of the village, and there till 4 in the morning we lay on the ground listening to the roar of the guns and the scream of the shell flying overhead, not knowing if the next moment might be our last. Fortunately, we were not called upon to attack, and our casual ties were very slight, but probably because the terrible strain of the past week was be ginding to tell, or the Lord wished to give me a little merit by suffering more, the agony and fear and suspense of those six hours seemed to surpass the whole of the seven days.

◆ The Clongownian, 1918
Clongowes Chaplains

We should have liked to be able to give a series of letters from Army. Chaplains, Past Clongownians, and former members of the Clongowes Community, describing their professional experiences. We made considerable efforts and received promises not a few. But in the end, all found that their life was too busy and too irregular to make formal composition of that kind possible, and they one and all shrank from the task. Very often, too, no doubt, there was the fear of the Censor in the background. But notwithstanding this we thought it would be of interest to many readers of the “Clongownian” if we pieced together from these letters the scattered fragments of news contained in them. And this is what we have done. We begin with Father Corr, who for several years most worthily filled the position of Editor to this Magazine, and to whom is due the magnificent Centenary Number, 1914

It would not be fitting to close these all too fragmentary notes without recalling the fact that in the discharge of their duties as Chaplains one past Clongownian and three former Clongowes masters have lost their lives viz:
Fathers W Doyle and John Gwynn, who were killed in France.

◆ The Clongownian, 1922

The Late Father Doyle
The following are some striking extracts from an address delivered before the Church of England Congress last October by the Rev G C Rawlinson MA

Here stands on the East Forty-Second Street in New York City A a giant building many stories high, with a floor space measuring three and a-half acres, which is the Parish House of St Bartholomew's Church. It is the house of a multitude of social activities. Under its roof you will find a lodging-house and a loan bureau, an employment bureau, and a coffee-house, a penny provident fund, a girls' club, a boys' club, and a men's club, a gymnasium, a parish press, a kindergarten, a surgical clinic, a medical clinic, and an eye and ear clinic. It was built by the late Bishop Greer of New York, when he was rector of St. Bartholomew's, a quarter of a century ago, and a full account of it can be read in the lately published Life of that prelate. He believed that secular work was religious work, and he would certainly have claimed that he was showing his personal allegiance to Jesus Christ in the busy hours that he spent amid the multifarious activities of his parish house. Who will say that he was wrong?

But there is another ideal. Not long before I read the Life of Bishop Greer I came across the biography of an obscure Jesuit, Father William Doyle, who was a chaplain during the war, and was killed near Ypres in 1917, in his forty-fifth year. Here one found oneself in a different world, and in a different spiritual atmosphere from that in which Bishop Greer lived. It was the inner life for which Father Doyle cared. The flame of his personal allegiance to his Saviour burned very brightly, but it showed itself mainly in the acts of the interior life - in long hours of prayer, in rigid self-discipline, in tremendous penances. At one time he had an opportunity of quiet prayer before a life-size crucifix. “I could not remain at His feet”, he said, “but climbed up until both my arms were around His neck. The Figure seemed almost to live, and I think I loved Him then, for it was borne in upon me how abandoned and suffering and broken-hearted He was. It seemed to console Him when I kissed His eyes and pallid cheeks and swollen lips, and, as I clung to Him, I knew He had won the victory, and I gave Him all He asked”. “He spent”, we are told, “every spare moment in church or chapel ; and, since spare moments grew scarcer as the years went on, he laid the hours of sleep under contribution”. The truth is he was possessed completely by the Ignatian idea of generosity towards God; not, that is, to give God the least one must but the most one can. So that when he became convinced that God desired him to strip his life of every possible comfort, to be his own executioner, though his whole soul shrank from such a life, he obeyed...

These are two very different pictures of spiritual loyalty which I have put before you, are they not? On the one hand there is Dr Greer visiting his crowded parish house in the evening, when all the lifts are working and the building is humming with activity; seeing that everything is going smoothly ; chatting with his workers; keeping his finger on the pulse of the whole vast organization - on the other hand there is Father Doyle setting his alarm for midnight, and then creeping down to the dark and lonely chapel for an exquisite hour of devotion before the Tabernacle. It is a startling contrast. With the one the exterior life and its activities are the chief thing, with the other the interior. I do not mean, of course, that Dr. Greer did not say his prayers, or that Father Doyle did not perform many active works. But they represent different ideals. The one shows the Martha spirit - the ideal of active work, and, beyond all possibility of contradiction, this is the ideal of the modern world as a whole. I am not sure even that many of my audience here will not sympathize with Bishop Greer rather than with Father Doyle. The other shows the Mary spirit, and the contemporary western world will hardly tolerate this. Some say frankly that it is eastern and not western, and that this is one of the points on which East and West will never meet. That is certainly false. The history of Christian devotion and the lives of Christian saints proves the contrary. But it is not a popular ideal to-day. Other-worldliness is often spoken of with contempt, and the best Christian is supposed to be the man with the largest number of good works to his credit. This seems to me to spring from a wrong standard of values, and I desire to lift up an unimportant voice on behalf of the other worldly ideal. I believe that, as our loyalty grows, as we penetrate more deeply into the understanding of the mind of Jesus Christ, as we learn more of the delights of prayer, we shall become possessed more and more with the idea of other-worldliness. We shall look upon everything with different eyes, and shall no longer consider the school after-care worker to be as useful a member of the community as the enclosed nun in her oratory.

The true life of those other-worldly people whom I am trying to describe is their interior life. There lie all their chief interests, and there is their principal source of happiness. Consequently, they are always exploring and opening up new roads in the spiritual life. I suppose many have no idea of prayer except as vocal prayer; to this a certain number add the practice of meditation. But even meditation is for beginners. Beyond that there lies much : affective power; the practice of the Presence of God, the prayer of quiet; contemplative prayer. As the soul begins to learn something of these it is quite likely that the desire for silence and solitude will grow. The person may not spend more time in prayer, in the usual sense of the word, but an attitude of prayer will be the background of the whole life. The thought of God will never be far away. There are certain ideas in everybody which have inherent power to leap into the foreground of consciousness directly the mind is unoccupied for a moment. With some men they may be ideas of money-making; with people in love it is the thought of the loved one; in certain disastrous cases it is the obsession of evil impulses. But with those who are approaching contemplative or mystical prayer it is the thought of God. God becomes, as it were, an actor in the person's interior life in a way which was never realized before. Such souls are in a new world. They have advanced far beyond the average Christian. They are meeting new dangers. They are exploring outside the hinterland that sur rounds the life of the ordinary communicant. The world, when it knows nothing about them, looks on with amazement and some times with dislike. Their attempts, by means of rigorous austerities, to liberate the soul for its upward flight, provoke incredulous wonder. Father Doyle, for instance, making himself a discipline out of the blades of safety-razors, is regarded as the limit of wrong-headedness. How men can seek pain utterly fails to be understood. Yet these men and women are really the very salt of the earth. We could do without our politicians, we might manage without our business men, but a nation cannot afford to be without the spiritual strength that comes from the hidden life of its contemplatives. After all, the unworldly man is most use to the world.

So what we want in the Church of England is more men and women of this type - more men and women who show their allegiance in this way. Nothing else will convert the world back again to Jesus Christ. .....

Probably the cause of much of the impotence of the Church of England arises from the fact that she impresses many people, not as the great supernatural society, but as a more or less useful department of the State. And we are ourselves to blame for this. We produce few of that fine aristocracy of souls who have given up everything for Jesus Christ.

Suppose we were to produce a St Francis to-day, what would be thought of such a career in contemporary England? He would probably be summoned and convicted by an unsympathetic and well-fed magistrate for sleeping out without visible means of support, and the sergeant of police would mention that he had been prosecuted a fortnight earlier for begging and dismissed with a caution. And it is doubtful if he would obtain much sympathy from the leaders of the Church. They would prefer him back in the thirteenth century. We do not admire enough the men of that type we do produce. In the last volume of the letters of Father. Benson of Cowley, there was a vivid picture of the life led by Father O'Neill of the same society as a missionary in the great Hindu city of Indore. He led there for years a life of extreme poverty, in a small native house, making himself as a Hindu that he might win the Hindus. But who knew or cared ? How many in the Church of England to-day know anything of that splendid supernatural life? We do not produce such men enough, and we do not make enough of them when we do produce them. And that is why there is often so little enthusiastic loyalty in the children of the Church.

We must begin by getting back to the right ideal. That must come first. Some people believe that what you think does not matter, but the truth is that all the evils in the world can be traced to the embrace by men of wrong ideals. We get the type of Christians we admire. If you admire the Bishop Greer type - the capable Christian of business habits and social activities - you will get it; if you admire the Father Doyle or the Father O'Neill type, you will get that. However miserably we may fall short in our own practice, however worldly we may be in our thoughts and actions, let us at least admire the right thing

◆ The Crescent : Limerick Jesuit Centenary Record 1859-1959

Bonum Certamen ... A Biographical Index of Former Members of the Limerick Jesuit Community

Father Willie Doyle (1873-1917)

The name of Father Willie Doyle needs no introduction to Irish readers or, for that matter, to Catholic readers anywhere throughout the world. But few, even in Limerick, remember that for three years, 1910 to 1913, he was a member of the Crescent community. His work on the Province mission staff earned him, naturally, few acquaintances among the boys of the school or the folk who came to Sacred Heart church. On leaving the Crescent, his last Irish address was Rathfarnham Castle whence, a year later, he departed as a chaplain for the European battlefields and his heroic death.

Born: 16 July 1907, Bellevue, Kilkenny City, County Kilkenny
Entered: 01 September 1926, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1939, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 07 February 1942, Stonyhurst College, Lancashire, England
Died: 01 June 1974, Clongowes Wood College SJ, County Kildare

Father was a Civil Engineer, County Surveyor of Kilkenny and died in 1924. Mother then supported by private means.

Youngest of three sons and has one sister.

Early education at was with a tutor until age twelve when he went to Clongowes Wood College SJ.

Chaplain in the Second World War.

◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 16th Year No 4 1941

General :
Seven more chaplains to the forces in England were appointed in July : Frs Burden, Donnelly, J Hayes, Lennon and C Murphy, who left on 1st September to report in Northern Ireland, and Fr Guinane who left on 9th September.
Fr. M. Dowling owing to the serious accident he unfortunately met when travelling by bus from Limerick to Dublin in August will not be able to report for active duty for some weeks to come. He is, as reported by Fr. Lennon of the Scottish Command in Midlothian expected in that area.
Of the chaplains who left us on 26th May last, at least three have been back already on leave. Fr Hayes reports from Redcar Yorks, that he is completely at home and experiences no sense of strangeness. Fr. Murphy is working' with the Second Lancashire Fusiliers and reports having met Fr. Shields when passing through Salisbury - the latter is very satisfied and is doing well. Fr. Burden reports from Catterick Camp, Yorks, that he is living with Fr. Burrows, S.J., and has a Church of his own, “so I am a sort of PP”.
Fr. Lennon was impressed very much by the kindness already shown him on all hands at Belfast, Glasgow, Edinburgh and in his Parish. He has found the officers in the different camps very kind and pleased that he had come. This brigade has been without a R.C. Chaplain for many months and has never yet had any R.C. Chaplain for any decent length of time. I am a brigade-chaplain like Fr Kennedy and Fr. Naughton down south. He says Mass on weekdays in a local Church served by our Fathers from Dalkeith but only open on Sundays. This is the first time the Catholics have had Mass in week-days

Irish Province News 17th Year No 1 1942

Chaplains :
Our twelve chaplains are widely scattered, as appears from the following (incomplete) addresses : Frs. Burden, Catterick Camp, Yorks; Donnelly, Gt. Yarmouth, Norfolk; Dowling, Peebles Scotland; Guinane, Aylesbury, Bucks; Hayes, Newark, Notts; Lennon, Clackmannanshire, Scotland; Morrison, Weymouth, Dorset; Murphy, Aldershot, Hants; Naughton, Chichester, Sussex; Perrott, Palmer's Green, London; Shields, Larkhill, Hants.
Fr. Maurice Dowling left Dublin for-Lisburn and active service on 29 December fully recovered from the effects of his accident 18 August.

Irish Province News 49th Year No 3 1974

Clongowes
On June 1st Father John Burden quietly slipped away, dying peacefully in his sleep. One hardly needs to add to the account which has already appeared in “Rosc”, an account which captured accurately the spirit of the day of his funeral Enough to say that while we miss him we are glad that his sufferings, borne so patiently and for so long, are over and that we were made very happy by seeing so many fellow Jesuits come to join us in honour ng his memory. May he rest in peace - and pray for us until the day when we can enjoy his companionship again.

Obituary :

Fr John Burden (1907-1974)

Fr John Burden died at Clongowes on April 24th. He had been a member of the Community since 1953 (mid-Summer) and a survey of the province catalogues during the intervening years, listing the offices entrusted to him - from Line prefect to Consultor of House and Confessor to community and boys, gives a measure of the work performed faithfully and unassumingly fulfilling the daily round. He was born in the neighbourhood of Kilkenny, July 16th, 1907 and entered the Society on September 1st, 1926; Vows, 1928; Juniorate at Rathfarnham and Philosophy at Tullabeg; Clongowes for Colleges and Milltown Park for Theology; Ordination, 1939; Tertianship at Rathfarnham, 1941-2; Military Chaplain with Allied forces until his return home in 1946. Shortly after his return he was called on to take over University Hall from Fr John M O'Connor whose failing health made an immediate change necessary. At the time electricity, fuel and such foods as butter and sugar continued to be rationed and John found it extremely difficult to satisfy the students. It was an unfortunate initiation and during his period in the Hall - and it continued six years, the easy relations which were characteristic of him almost invariably elsewhere were, in his own opinion, not established it provided his Purgatory!

And now we allow contemporaries to take over:

“John Burden and I went to Clongowes the same year, 1919 and after seven years we had passed through the hands of A B Fell in Elements to Fr Meaney in Rhetoric. John commanded respect from the beginning; he had two older brothers, one in the Lower Line and the other in the Higher Line. Mr Hal King was our Third Line prefect, Mr Tom Kelly, the Gallery prefect - two figures with whom we were in constant contact. The Prefect of Studies was Fr Larry Kieran who also assumed the role of Spiritual Adviser when administering rebukes or punishment or friendly spiffs. Finally there was Fr Joey Canavan and Mr Mickey Kelly whose prowess on the cricket field was some thing to be remembered by us all.
The years at school brought John and me close together in class, on the playing fields where he won top honours at cricket and tennis, and in the Refectory when we sat opposite each other in our last year. By this time I had come to regard him as one to rely on, to respect and to follow, and I was really pleased when he told me he had decided to join the Jays. So after seven happy years at Clongowes we went to Tullabeg the following September, in company with five other Clongownians. Of the seven who began the Noviceship, one left at the end of the second year and the other six, by the grace of God, remained in the Society.
I remained very close to John all through the years of formation. When we had finished Philosophy, Summer 1933, we were posted back to Clongowes where he became Gallery Prefect for one year and Lower Line Prefect for two years. From there we went to Milltown and Ordination (1939). During the Tertianship he told me he had been asked to join the army as a Chaplain and, in his droll way, said war couldn't be any worse than the Tertianship! That was in 1942 and, as in so many other instances in the Society, I didn't come across him again more than half-a-dozen times. He was Prefect of University Hall from 1947-53. In 1953 he returned to Clongowes to which he remained attached until his lamented death.
Two remarks about John: Fr Jack Brennan, the Rector of Clongowes, said in his funeral homily that John had died as he lived, peacefully and with the least amount of trouble to anyone and that his work as Confessor to the boys was gentle and tireless; Secondly, Rosc published an obituary which conveys - multum in parvo,
John Burden died peacefully in his sleep on Whit Saturday. At the funeral we saw, in addition to the Chapel full of boys and many of his relatives, over sixty priests concelebrating and an other 15 or so in attendance. It was a slow easy funeral cortege of a sort many of us had never before experienced. There was time for a chat and look backwards and forwards as we walked the length of the avenue ahead of the hearse and between lines of boys who joined the procession behind the hearse.
Many of John's contemporaries will bear witness to the value of his easy companionship. He was always entertaining and amusing even when he was grumbling. His contemporaries will always remember him in friendship”.
Another of the Clongownian contemporaries who entered with him endorsed the judgment of John's companionability, adding a comment on the shrewdness of his judgment - his practically uncanny insight in his dealings with boys and young men, citing instances which we regret omitting.
Possibly the experiences of University Hall, alluded to above, was the one occasion where morale seemed to flag through his career. His military life was spent in the Middle East mostly and his complaint was that it became largely routine. During his latter years in Clongowes he aged alarmingly; arthritis, in a severely pervasive form, crippled him, but withal, his gentle, kindly, quaintly humorous ways possessed you. RIP

◆ The Clongownian, 1974

Obituary

Father John Burden SJ

As a boy in Clongowes John was an outstanding athlete, being captain of the cricket eleven and an outstanding tennis player. He had the unique distinction of being prefect of the Sodality for two successive years. He entered the Jesuit Noviceship in 1926 and after his studies he returned to Clongowes in 1933 and acted as prefect for three years. He was ordained as a priest in Milltown Park in July 1939. He acted as chaplain in the war from 1941-46 being stationed in the Near East, On returning he acted as Superior of University Hall, Hatch St. and then returned to Clongowes in 1953. He first looked after the Lower Line and the Higher Line for three years. In 1956 he became house Procurator, an office that he held until his death on 1st June this year. Fr Michael O'Meara, a contemporary of his as a boy, sends us this appreciation:

John was one of seven members of Rhetoric who entered the Noviceship in September 1926. He is the first of them to go to his reward which he so richly deserved. To his relatives we offer our deep sympathy, for he had for them a deep but hidden affection. If it is true that we who were his brothers in religion will sadly miss him, what their feelings must be, we can only guess. As a boy, scholastic, and priest, John was singularly reticent, quiet and if I may be pardoned the word, unobtrusive. You never knew where and when he would turn up, a fact all those who had him as a prefect would, I am sure, sincerely endorse.

Some injury kept him from robust games but at cricket, tennis and later at golf he really excelled. A fundamental reason for this was his attention to detail. This quality was basic to his standing as a tennis and cricket coach. His quiet, clear and simple directions were slowly given, making sure that every point was thoroughly understood.

John was quietly popular all through his Jesuit studies and this, I believe, persevered through his career as a military chaplain. My own belief is that he found these years rewarding as a priest but very lonely. Not expansive, he never had a chance to put down roots but I think he never regretted being sent to such an arduous following of the Master. God rest his soul. He was one of Christ's most lovable gentlemen provided you were admitted into the inner citadel, as such I shall always remember him.