In close proximity to St. Kevin's Kitchen there were anciently several other buildings, all traces of which have now quite disappeared. Mention is made of Cro-Chiarain or St. Ciaran's House, and also of the church of the "Two Sinch.e.l.ls"--Regles an da Sinch.e.l.l--the patron saints of Killeigh in the King's County. These saints were friends and contemporaries of St.

Kevin, and probably resided for a while in the 'Houses' which they or their disciples had constructed in the holy valley. The remains of numerous ancient crosses and tombstones have been discovered during the recent restorations, and are now better cared for than they were heretofore.

III.--ST. MOLING.

Many celebrated scholars were trained in Glendalough from the time of St.

Kevin to St. Laurence O'Toole. The See of Glendalough, too, occupied a highly honourable position amongst the bishoprics of Leinster, sometimes claiming the place of honour next to Kildare itself. Yet there is no evidence that St. Kevin himself was raised to the episcopal dignity; and we may fairly a.s.sume that if he were a bishop the fact would not have been pa.s.sed over in silence by the writers of his Life. But the fame of the monastery and schools became so great during the life of the holy founder, that his successor and nephew, St. Molibba, was consecrated bishop, and probably during the lifetime of St. Kevin himself. The subsequent prelates are styled sometimes 'bishops,' and sometimes 'abbots' of Glendalough; and in one instance, at least, that of the abbot Cormac, who died in A.D. 925, the same person is styled bishop and abbot.

It was during the abbacy of Molibba that the school of Glendalough produced a distinguished pupil, whose name is well known in Leinster, that is, St. Moling, the patron and founder of St. Mullins.

St. Moling was one of the most celebrated of the holy and learned men who were trained in Glendalough during the lifetime, or shortly after the death of the founder. His name is still preserved in the parish and barony of St. Mullins, on the left bank of the Barrow, in the extreme south-west of the county Carlow. Moling's first name was Daircell or Taircell. He came of the royal race of Cathaoir Mor, a celebrated king of Leinster in the third century of the Christian era. His father's name was Faolain, whence he is sometimes called Mac Faolain, and his mother Eamhnat, is said to have been a Kerry woman. Though sprung from the Ui Deagha, on the left bank of the Barrow, he was probably born in his mother's country; and hence he is sometimes called Moling Luachra, from the mountain district in Kerry, where he was either born or fostered amongst the friends of his mother. The date of his birth is not known; but as he died in A.D. 697, it was probably some time in the early part of the same century.

Few particulars of his early life are preserved, except certain miraculous stories, which we need not refer to here. It is expressly stated, however, that he spent some time in the monastery of Glendalough, which was not very far from Hy-Kinsellagh, and was then the most celebrated establishment in Leinster. As St. Kevin died about A.D. 618, young Moling cannot have seen much of that great saint, if indeed he ever had an opportunity of meeting him at all. But the spirit of Kevin was there--his Rule and his discipline flourished in Glendalough; and hence in any case we may regard St. Moling as his disciple. It was most probably at Glendalough that the young saint acquired that great knowledge of the Sacred Scriptures which he afterwards manifested, as well as those exalted virtues which bore such lasting fruit on the banks of the Barrow.

The place where he founded his cell and monastery was then called Achadh Cainidh; but the name was soon changed into _Teach Moling_--the House of Moling--since corrupted into St. Mullins. He chose for his home a beautiful spot on a gentle eminence overlooking the n.o.ble river, which at this point mingles its waters with the rising tide between the green meadows and rich groves that crown its swelling banks. A small stream here joins the Barrow, and Moling built his monastery on the high ground, between the junction of the river and the stream. His own cell he built lower down, close to the river, for he loved to be alone with G.o.d as much as possible, although he frequently visited his monastery, and allowed his monks to confer with himself whenever it was necessary.

He had, too, that love of useful labour which pre-eminently marked the great Benedictine Order. Laborare est orare. To labour is to pray--when the labour is sanctified by its motive and its object. Moling wished to grind the corn for his monks, and for this purpose, with his own hands, he dug a mill-race from the stream already referred to, in such a way as to convey the water more than a hundred yards from the river, even through high ground, in order to get a fall for the water to turn the mill-wheel near his monastery. He kept a curragh, too, on the river, near his own cell, and was always ready to ferry strangers across the broad river, who came to pray and do penance at the monastery. During all this time his food was herbs and water; and according to some accounts--probably in imitation of St. Kevin--he lived a long time within a hollow tree.

His austerities and his virtues soon attracted around Moling a great number of disciples, so that a large community was formed under his guidance and direction. The ruins of four ancient churches are still to be seen on the slope of the hill overlooking the Barrow and the streamlet, some of which were certainly built in his time. It is said, too, that a portion of the mill-stone of Moling's mill was found in the stream, and that the mill-race which he dug out can still be clearly traced.

St. Aidan, called also Mo-Eadan, which has been shortened into Moedog and Moque, the celebrated Bishop of Ferns, died A.D. 632. It is said that he wished St. Moling to be his successor, and that the princes and clergy of Leinster invited Moling to become the Bishop of Ferns. Reluctantly the saint complied with their wishes--for he loved Teach Moling much--and preferred to spend his life there in solitude, attending only to himself and the direction of the chosen souls, who placed themselves under his direction. But G.o.d willed it otherwise; and Moling became, at least for some years, Bishop, or High-bishop of Ferns--for at this period a certain kind of precedence was claimed for Ferns over the other bishoprics of Leinster. It is by no means certain, however, that Moling became Bishop of Ferns in immediate succession to Aidan in A.D. 632. If so he must have afterwards resigned his See, which is highly probable, and thus made room for other bishops of Ferns, whose names are mentioned in connection with that See during the seventh century, and during the lifetime of Moling himself. It cannot, therefore, be determined whether he became Bishop of Ferns in A.D. 632 or 691--the former is, however, the more probable date.

Moling procured for his tribesmen one signal temporal advantage--the remission of the celebrated cow-tribute, called the Borumha, which was levied by the King of Tara in Leinster every three years. It was an oppressive tax, originally inflicted for a great crime committed by the King of Leinster in A.D. 106, and was productive of much bloodshed, and mutual hatred between the men of Leinster and the Hy-Niall. Now King Finnachta the Festive had already twice exacted the tribute, and was coming to levy it a third time. The Lagenians resolved to fight rather than to pay; but first of all it was deemed expedient to get St. Moling to use his great influence in their behalf to have the tribute remitted. The saint succeeded beyond their expectations, although, it is said, he made use of an equivocation to effect his purpose. Failing to get a promise of the absolute remission of the tribute, he asked the king to grant him a stay of execution until _luan_. The king promised to grant this stay. Now _luan_ means Monday; and so the king understood it, but it also means the Judgment Day, in which sense Moling understood[326] it, and insisted on the fulfilment of the promise in that sense. The king feared the saint, and moreover was unwilling to be deemed a pledge-breaker, so he was constrained to remit the tribute for ever. The remission, however, was a most unpopular act with his own northern subjects; and it is not unlikely that the story of the equivocation was invented by the king's friends, who wished to please the saint, and yet to throw the odium of this unpopular measure on one who was much better able to bear it than Finnachta. Even the wise Ad.a.m.nan is represented as counselling his royal master to a.s.sert the legal claims of the great Hy-Niall race to which he himself belonged; and he is said to have blamed the king for yielding so weakly to the Leinster saint. The remission was made about the year A.D. 693; and the cow-tax was never levied in Leinster afterwards.

St. Moling is said to have been a great scholar, and a great writer. More ancient Irish poems, several of which are still extant, have been ascribed to St. Moling than to any other of our Irish saints,[327] with the exception, perhaps, of Columcille. Some of these have reference to that Borromean Tribute of which we have already spoken; others purporting to be prophetical, give a list of the kings of Erin, their battles, victories, and death. In consequence of these and several other prophetical poems, St. Moling has been set down as one of the four great prophets of Erin.

The others are St. Patrick, St. Columcille, and St. Berchan of Clonsast.

One of Moling's prophecies foretells the coming of the Anglo-Normans to Ireland, and the 'conquest' of the country by Henry II. Some of these poems are manifest forgeries written after the event. They were ascribed to St. Moling, because he was pre-eminently a holy man, who enjoyed in his own time the reputation of a prophet amongst all the people.

Keating had in his possession a work which he calls the _Yellow Book of St. Moling_, but which has since been unfortunately lost. Hence we know nothing of it beyond the name. It was probably begun by St. Moling and afterwards continued by his monastic successors as an authentic record of local and national events, like the _Annals of Tighernach_, or the _Chronicon Scotorum_ at Clonmacnoise. Colgan observes that St. Moling had a great devotion for St. Kevin, and constantly invokes that saint in his poems and prophecies. He was probably privileged to see during his boyhood the venerable Kevin at Glendalough, and must have been greatly impressed by that saintly master. St. Moling died towards the close of the seventh century.

Notwithstanding its remoteness, the Danes frequently ravaged Glendalough during the ninth century; and again repeated their ravages during the tenth and following century. There could be no peace for the monks of St.

Kevin whilst the fleets of foreigners were on the Boyne, the Liffey, and even at the mouth of the Bray River--if it be the _Inner-na-mbarc_ referred to by the Four Masters in A.D. 836, as O'Donovan conjectures.

Still the sanctuary retained at least to some extent its ancient fame even during these troubled times, for Cormac Mac Cullinnan before his death in A.D. 907, bequeathed to Glendalough an ounce of gold and an ounce of silver, as an offering to secure the prayers of the community. It contained 'learned men' and 'anchorites,' as we know, during this century, for the death of one of them is recorded by the Four Masters in A.D. 953 (_recte_ 954); and the death of several other anchorites is noticed by the Masters in this same century. They were probably the same as the _inclusi_ of whom we read later on--each of them living in his own little cell, or 'kitchen,' which was at once his house and his oratory. One of them was also what was called 'Head of the Rule' at Glendalough, and died in A.D. 965. The death of a lector or reader in theology is also noticed the previous year; both bore the surname of O'Manchan, and were probably members of the same family.

But it was not the Danes alone who wasted the abbey-lands and destroyed the sacred edifices. Native Irishmen now followed their bad example both at Glendalough and elsewhere. In A.D. 983, "the three sons of Cearbhall, son of Lorcan, plundered the termon, or abbey-lands of Coemghen; but the three were killed before night through the miracles of G.o.d and Coemghen."

No one can regret their fate; it was an example and a warning greatly needed in those rude and lawless days. Five times during the next thirty years St. Kevin's sacred city was plundered and destroyed by the Danes;[328] yet it was still a venerated and much frequented shrine during the whole of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. In A.D. 1095 died the Brehon O'Manchan, Comarb of St. Kevin, and a most celebrated judge. He was doubtless a member of the same distinguished family, which had already given many abbots and anchorites to Glendalough.

n.o.ble ladies, too, we find, used to go on the pilgrimage to Glendalough; for in A.D. 1098, Dearbhforgaill, daughter of Tadhg Mac Gillaphadraig, and mother of Murtogh and Tadgh O'Brian, died in pilgrimage at Glendalough.

The same year Mac Maras Cairbreach, a n.o.ble priest and learned senior, died in the sacred vale; but whether on his pilgrimage or in his own monastery is not stated. In A.D. 1127, the abbot Gilla Comghall O'Toole was slain by the men of Fertuathal; he was doubtless a member of the same family as the ill.u.s.trious Laurence O'Toole, the greatest glory of Glendalough after its founder, of whom we must give a more particular account, for he was the last canonized of the countless saints of ancient Erin.

The Four Masters in A.D. 1085 record the death of "Gilla na-Naomh Laighen (the Leinster-man), n.o.ble bishop of Gleann-da-locha, and afterwards head of the monks of Wurzburg." The celebrated monastery of Wurzburg in Germany, called in Latin Herbipolis, was founded by St. Killian. There is still preserved in the library of its university a famous MS. called the _Codex Paulinus_, or _Codex of the Epistles of St. Paul_ in Latin, with copious glosses, both marginal and interlinear, in the Irish language, which were largely made use of by Zeuss, in the composition of his _Grammatica Celtica_. This MS. is hardly of the time of St. Killian himself. Zeuss thinks it was written either by Maria.n.u.s Scotus, or more probably brought from Ireland by one of the learned pilgrims, who crowded the Scoto-German monasteries at that time. He makes special reference to Gilla na-Naomh, Bishop of Glendaloch; and it may be that he was the writer of this Codex, which still proves to the learned world how carefully the Scriptures were studied in our Irish schools, and how the Irish language was cultivated by our native scholars during the 'darkest' of the Middle Ages.

CHAPTER XVIII--(_continued_).

THE SCHOOL OF GLENDALOUGH.

ST. LAURENCE O'TOOLE.

"And, Thou, O mighty Lord, whose ways Are far above our feeble minds to understand, Sustain us in these doleful days, And render light the chain that binds our fallen land.

Look down upon our dreary state; And through the ages that may still roll sadly on, Watch Thou o'er hapless Erin's fate, And shield, at least from darker ill, the blood of Conn."

--_Clarence Mangan._

Something like this was the prayer of St. Laurence O'Toole when he was dying in a foreign land. He was the last of our saints; and he was also the a.s.sociate and intimate friend of the last of our kings. At one time both had high hopes that the demon of civil strife might be banished from the land; and that Celtic learning and Celtic art would find their highest development under the protection of a strong government and a united people.

Together they drew a sword, that could not save, in defence of hapless Ireland. Together they were forced to bow the knee in homage to the Norman king. But St. Laurence did not forget his old master in his new loyalty.

He was faithful through all his misfortunes to the unhappy Roderick O'Connor; and it may be truly said that he met his n.o.ble death striving to obtain Henry's pardon for the discrowned king, and "to render light the chains that bound his fallen land." The saint's career, from every point of view, is full of interest; and therefore we make no apology for tracing his history at some length.

It is fortunate that in the case of St. Laurence, or Lorcan O'Toole, we are not left to tradition or imagination to enable us to ascertain what manner of man he was. We have an accurate and authentic Life of the saint, rich in all details, and written by one who was in every way qualified for the task. The writer was a member of that community at Eu, in whose bosom St. Laurence found a home and a grave; and he must have had ample and authentic information at his disposal. For the Life was written shortly after the saint's death; its author must have seen and probably conversed with Laurence himself; and, doubtless, he made the acquaintance of the clergy who accompanied him from Ireland to Normandy. Above all, he had at his command the official doc.u.ments, which were transmitted from Dublin to Rouen, at the request of the Bishop and Chapter of that Cathedral, and which were drawn up by the Bishop of Kildare and the Prior of Christ's Church by command of Henry de Loundres, Archbishop of Dublin, for the process of the saint's canonization.

Laurence O'Toole, both by father and mother, came of the n.o.blest stock of Leinster. His father, Murtough, was hereditary prince of the Hy-Murray, a race that inhabited the fertile lands of south-eastern Kildare (which still belongs to the diocese of Dublin), until they were driven into the mountains of Wicklow by the Normans. His mother was the daughter of O'Byrne, the ruler of north-eastern Kildare, who shared the same fate; for both were driven from the plains into the mountains, where they maintained a st.u.r.dy but turbulent independence, down to a period within the memory of men still living.

The young Lorcan was baptized at St. Brigid's famous shrine in Kildare, by the hands of the bishop of that ancient see, who seems to have been in some way connected with the family of the saint. We need not dwell on the alleged prophecies of the saint's future greatness--too often these prophecies were composed after the event. A few years at most after the birth of the child, Dermott M'Murrough, of infamous memory, became king of Leinster, and, as Gerald Barry testifies, he was a tyrant from the beginning, a cruel oppressor of the n.o.bles, a man whose hand was against every man, and who had every man's hand against him. The father of the young Lorcan being suspected or defeated by the tyrant, was forced to give his youngest child as a hostage to M'Murrough. Sometimes these hostages were treated with great cruelty; and if any violation of faith, real or imaginary, took place, were not unfrequently put to death with circ.u.mstances of the greatest atrocity. M'Murrough was a savage, and treated the child savagely. He had him at the tender age of ten led away in bonds; he caused him to be sent into a desert, stony land, somewhere probably to the north of Ferns, and there the child was left almost without food, until he was nearly starved to death, and his clothes were reduced to rags; so that, as the author of his Life tells us, he had nothing to shelter him from the biting north winds of winter. It was the discipline of the Cross which sometime or other G.o.d prepares for those whom he destines for a high degree of sanct.i.ty, that they may thus learn the best of all lessons--the lesson of patient endurance at the foot of the Cross.

When his father heard of the sad plight to which his poor son was reduced--knowing that prayers would be fruitless with such a man--he fortunately made prisoners of twelve of M'Murrough's followers, and then gave the tyrant to understand that if his son were not released, he would take summary vengeance on the captives. The threat was effective; M'Murrough could not afford to lose his followers. So he agreed to give up the boy to the Bishop of Glendalough on condition that his own followers were at once released.

It was fortunate for young Lorcan that the chances of war brought him to Glendalough, for it was the crisis of his life. His captivity was, after all, a blessing in disguise, since it ended in thus bringing him to the holy city of St. Kevin. In spite of the ravages of the Danes, and of other spoilers like Dermott M'Murrough, the lamp of learning still burned brightly in the mountain valley, and the virtues of St. Kevin were still cultivated, at least to some extent by his monastic children. There were, it is true, from time to time burnings at Glendalough, and deeds of violence were perpetrated even under the shadow of its holy mountains. But the learning and holiness acquired by St. Laurence in its cloisters--for it was his only school--is the clearest proof that both sacred and profane studies were there cultivated in comparative peace, and that the churches of Glendalough were crowded with holy and learned monks until the Norman spoilers came, when it was made a desert, which afforded refuge only to the robber and the outlaw.

Young Lorcan was at once placed under the protection of the bishop; and when his father came to bring him home, the n.o.ble boy asked permission to remain for ever in the family of St. Kevin, and forego his hopes of an earthly and, in those days, a very brilliant inheritance. The father gladly consented; and thus, at the early age of twelve, young Lorcan was given over to G.o.d, and like Samuel, was brought up in the temple of the Lord, serving day and night before His altar. His whole time, like that of his young companions, was given to prayer and study. It was his highest privilege to be allowed to attend at the altar, to train his young voice to sing the praises of G.o.d with the monks in the choir, and prepare the requisites for the Holy Sacrifice, especially the spotless host, and the wine, and the limpid water from St. Kevin's well. He was a.s.siduous in attendance at all the lessons of the lectors, that is the readers in Divinity and Sacred Scriptures, who were attached to the monastic school, and delivered their lectures in a somewhat free and easy, but very effective, sort of way. In rainy weather they a.s.sembled in the church, or the abbot's house, or the reading room; but when the sun shone the professor and monks strolled about, or sat down under the shade of St.

Kevin's yew, while the teacher expounded the sacred page, or read the lives of ancient saints, or went through the canons of the Church, explaining how the law was violated, how transgressors were punished, and how the truly repentant after condign penance were reconciled. It was not so elaborate a system as we have at present; but it was admirably suited to the wants of the time. It certainly produced great prelates and great saints; and beyond all doubt it was more healthy for soul and body to hear the Word of G.o.d explained in the bracing air of Glendalough, under the shadow of its majestic mountains, than to be cooped up in a dusty hall, where one could hardly ever catch a ray of the glorious sun struggling through the murky atmosphere.

Lorcan was a diligent and keen-witted scholar. He was, says the writer of his Life, "Fervens in audiendo, sagax in repetendo, prudens in discernendo, sollicitus audita tenaci memoriae commendare." No good quality of a perfect student was wanting. He was not merely an attentive but an eager listener--fervens in audiendo. He went carefully and wisely over what he had heard or read--sagax in repetendo. This improved his natural talents, and made him a youth of keen and penetrating judgment--prudens in discernendo--and the knowledge which he acquired he stored up, not in a confused heap, but with system and order, which helped to strengthen his retentive memory, and enable him to have his knowledge ready for use--sollicitus audita tenaci memoriae commendare.

For thirteen years he spent his life in the service of G.o.d, in the improvement of his mind, and the acquisition of sacred knowledge. They were probably the happiest years of his life; his young heart, pure and free from care, was given to the only love that begets perfect happiness, the love and service of G.o.d. Then it came to pa.s.s that the abbot of Glendalough, the comarb of St. Kevin, died; and, young as he was, the unanimous voice of the clergy, and of the people, called for Lorcan as his successor. He was only twenty-five--too young, indeed, in ordinary circ.u.mstances to be placed at the head of a great community; but his virtues, his learning, and his prudence far exceeded the measure of his years, and so they placed him, reluctant as he was, at the head of the great establishment of St. Kevin, probably about the year A.D. 1153, when we read that the abbot Dunlaing Ua Cathail died.

We cannot stay to recount his wisdom, his zeal, and, above all, his great charity in his new post. The abbey lands were wide; the family of St.

Kevin was very large; the duties of the abbot very onerous; but we find young Lorcan discharged all these duties with complete success. Above all, his charity to the poor was remarkable. A time of great scarcity had come upon the people in all that mountain region, and great numbers would, undoubtedly, have perished of cold and hunger, but the abbot found means to be generous to all--no appeal was made to him in vain; no one left the gates of the monastery hungry. When necessary he gave the scanty meal from his own table to feed the starving people. Perhaps it was that he was too profuse of the property of the monastery, or because in the common need he made all give a share to the poor, but it is certain that at this period in his own religious family there were false brethren who calumniated their abbot, whispering evil things against him. Yet he bore all with perfect patience, and took no measures to vindicate his own character, until his enemies, from very shame, were forced to confess that they did injustice to their blameless abbot.

Shortly after the see of Glendalough became vacant and the eyes of all were turned on Laurence as the most suitable person to a.s.sume the mitre.

But the pious abbot this time absolutely refused; they made him a religious superior against his will; but he would not become bishop at any rate; and that for two very good reasons--first, because he had not yet attained the canonical age; and secondly, because in his humility he thought himself unable to bear so heavy a burden.

But Providence reserved him for greater things.

Shortly after the archiepiscopal See of Dublin became vacant by the death of Gregory in October, A.D. 1161. Next year the abbot of Glendalough was chosen to succeed to the vacant See, and was consecrated in Christ Church Cathedral by the Primate Gelasius, attended by several other prelates and abbots from various parts of the kingdom. The choice of Lorcan to fill the See of Dublin is a singular proof of the great esteem is which he was held by all cla.s.ses of his countrymen, both clergy and laity. For the citizens of Dublin were mostly of Danish origin, and had small sympathy with the natives. Hitherto their prelates were either of foreign extraction, or Irishmen, who had been trained and educated in England.

They were consecrated too by the Archbishops of Canterbury; and they invariably took an oath of obedience and subjection to the see of Canterbury.

But the election of Lorcan inaugurated a new era. He was Irish of the Irish; trained and educated at home, as far as we know, exclusively within the shadow of the Wicklow Mountains. He was consecrated by the Primate of Armagh, and of course he was neither asked, nor if asked, was he a man to promise obedience to the see of Canterbury, which certainly had no claim _de jure_ to the obedience of any Irish prelate. Nor did any prelate after him consecrated for any Irish see promise or pay any such canonical obedience to any prelate except the Pope. So that in the person of Lorcan the Irish Church was finally emanc.i.p.ated from this dependence on the Primate of all England, which in after days, had it continued, might have been the means of causing the shipwreck of our country's faith.

Laurence was consecrated Archbishop of Dublin--Glendalough was not yet united to the Archdiocese--in the year A.D. 1162. In the same year we find that there was a Synod of the Irish prelates held at Clane in the co.

Kildare, at which twenty-six bishops and several abbots are said to have a.s.sembled for the reformation of abuses, and the enactment of salutary discipline. The Primate Gelasius presided; and it is highly probable that many of the same prelates a.s.sisted at the consecration of St. Laurence in Dublin.

At that time the city seems to have been greatly in need of some moral reformation; and the holy prelate at once girt up his loins for the difficult task.

He began with the clergy; for he knew that the people would readily follow their good example. He persuaded the secular clergy of the Cathedral Church to form themselves into a kind of religious community. With the sanction of the Pope they adopted the rule of life followed by the Regular Canons of Aroasia--a reform that had been introduced into the diocese of Arras in France some eighty years before. The Archbishop himself adopted the same rule of life, and became a living model of its perfect observance for all his clergy. We fortunately have accurate details regarding his manner of life at this period; and beyond all doubt it was, as the lessons read on his festival declare, a life of marvellous austerity.