The Cross and the Shamrock.

by Hugh Quigley.

DEDICATION.

To the faithful Irish-American Catholic citizens of the whole Union, and especially to the working portion of them, on account of their piety, their liberality, their patriotism, and their steady loyalty to the virtues symbolized by the "Cross and the Shamrock,"--on account of their attachment to the land of St. Patrick, and to the religion of her patriot princes and martyrs,--this work, written for their encouragement and instruction, is respectfully inscribed by

Their humble servant, And devoted friend and fellow-citizen, THE AUTHOR.

September, 1853.

PREFACE.

"There are moments when every citizen who feels that he can say something promotive of the welfare of his countrymen and of advantage to his country is authorized to give _public_ utterance to his sentiments, how humble soever he may be."--_Letter of Archbishop Hughes on the Madiai_, February, 1853.

"There may be, in public opinion, an Inquisition a thousand times more galling to the soul than the gloomy prison or the weight of chains."--_National Democrat_, March, 1853.

1st. The above extracts, from different but respectable sources, comprise the author's chief motives in the publication of the following work. It is a well-known fact, that thousands of our fellow-Christians, in all parts of this vast _free country_, are continually subjected to a most trying ordeal of temptation and persecution on account of their religion, and that the wonderful progress of Catholicity and renewed power of the church only add to the malice, if not to the influence, of sectarians, in their efforts to make use of this odious persecution of servant boys and servant girls, of widows and orphans, to build up their own tottering conventicles, and to circ.u.mscribe the giant strides of what they call "the man of sin."

A very intelligent American lawyer lately remarked to the writer of this, "that, about twenty-five years ago, the parsons fulminated all their eloquence against Satan; but they seem to have formed a league with him now, for all their vengeance is directed against the pope, who, they say, is far more dangerous than Old Harry."

When we know this to be literally true, and find our poor, neglected, and uninstructed brethren in danger accordingly, how can any thing that can be said, written, or done, to alleviate their condition, or to remove prejudice from the public mind, be counted a work of supererogation?

2d. The corruption of the cheap trash literature, that is now ordinarily supplied for the amus.e.m.e.nt and instruction of the American people,--and that threatens to uproot and annihilate all the notions of virtue and morals that remain, in spite of sectarianism,--calls for some antidote, some remedy. In every rail car, omnibus, stage coach, steamboat, or ca.n.a.l packet, publications, containing the most poisonous principles and destructive errors, are presented to, and are purchased by, pa.s.sengers of both s.e.xes, whose minds, like the appet.i.tes of hungry animals, will take to eating the filthiest stuff, rather than want food for rumination. It is for the philanthropists of the present day, and for those who are paid for making such inquiries, to trace the connection between the _roues_ of your cities, your Bloomer women, your spiritual rappers, and other countless extravagances of a diseased public mind, and between the abominable publications to which we allude.

3d. Our people are not generally great readers of the trashy newspapers of the day; and in this respect they show their good sense, or at least have happened on good luck: it is therefore our duty to supply them with cheap and amusing literature, to entertain them during the few hours they are disengaged from work. And what reading can afford the Irish Catholic greater pleasure than any work, however imperfect, having for its end the exaltation and defence of his glorious old faith, and the vindication of his native land--his beloved "Erin-go-bragh"? Impress on his susceptible mind the honor and advantage of defence and fidelity to the CROSS and the SHAMROCK, and you give him two ideas that will come to his aid in most of his actions through life. We are ashamed here of the cross of Christ, when we see it continually dishonored and trampled on by heretics and modern pagans, in their scramble for money and pleasures.

On the other hand, the poverty, humiliation, and rags of old Erin, of the kings, saints, and martyrs, scandalize us; and from these two false notions the degradation and apostasy of many Irishmen commence. Hence they no sooner land on the sh.o.r.es of America than they endeavor to clip the musical and rich brogue of fatherland, to make room for the b.a.s.t.a.r.d barbarisms and vulgar slang of Yankeedom. The remainder of the course of the apostate is easily traced, till, ashamed of creed and country, he ends by being ashamed of his Creator and Redeemer, and barters the inheritance of heaven for the miserable and short enjoyments of this earth.

A _fourth_, and a leading motive in the publication of this work, is to record the manly defences which the people among whom the author lives have made of the creed of their fathers, and to enable them to refute, in a simple, practical manner, for the edification of their opponents, the many objections proposed to them about the faith. By placing a copy of this work in the hands of every head of a family in the congregation in which he presides, the author thinks he will have done something towards the salvation of that parent and his house, by showing him how he may educate his children, and save them from those subtle snares laid to rob them and him of happiness here and hereafter; for, without true religion and virtue, there is neither enjoyment nor happiness even in this world.

But are the principles sound, and the estimate he has formed of American character and the conduct and motives of the sectarian parsons correct?

There may be, and undoubtedly there is, great variety in American character; and, so far, what may be true of the people of one state or county, may not at all be applicable to those of the rest; but as far as regards sectarianism and its slanders of the church, and the low character, intellectually and morally, of the parsons, ministers, dominies, and preachers, with few honorable exceptions, it may be said, in the words of the poet,--

"Ex uno disce omnes."

"They are all chips of the same block;" and the description in the following pages of their attempts to proselytize, seduce, and corrupt, is not at all exaggerated, as thousands of candid American Protestants can testify. Perhaps the sectarian dominies do not see the sad consequences that are infallibly produced on the minds of their hearers, after they come to detect the frauds and falsehoods which the parsons inculcate on them when children; but they are in _the cause_, and morally responsible for that doubt, irreligion, and downright infidelity which are the well-known characteristics of the male and female youth of our great country, and which threaten such disastrous consequences to society.

Yes, dominies, you are responsible for all the extravagances of modern times, for the irreparable loss to virtue and society of the n.o.ble youth of your country. You hate the church of G.o.d because she is a witness against you. The priest, the nun, and the recluse are objects of your malice; for they are living examples of what you call impossible morals, and refuters of the code of low virtue you practise and preach. The faith of the Catholic laity, too, you endeavor to destroy, in order more securely to deceive your hearers, and to secure your children, your wives, and yourselves, that bread which you eat by the dissemination of error, contradiction, and contention, and which you are too lazy to "earn by the sweat of your brow."

_Finally._ This work is submitted to the reader by one who will be well pleased if it affords the former any pleasure or amus.e.m.e.nt during one or two of such few hours of leisure as it took the latter to write it.

Regarding style, method, and arrangement of the matter, the author has no apology to offer, except that the work has been written in great haste, and by one who, in five years, has not had a single entire day for recreation or unoccupied by severe missionary duty. Let not the critics forget this.

CHAPTER I.

A DEATH-BED SCENE.

A cold evening in the month of January, a drizzling rain storm blowing from the south-west, a cheerless sky, a dull, threatening atmosphere, together with almost impa.s.sable roads,--these are the chilling and uninviting circ.u.mstances with which, if we pay regard to truth, we must introduce our narrative to our readers. It is usual, with writers of fiction and romance, to preface their literary exhibitions with high-wrought and dazzling descriptions of natural and artificial objects--the sun, moon, and stars; the clouds, meteors, and other fantastic creations of the atmosphere; the seas, rivers, and lakes; the mountains, fields, and gardens; the birds, fishes, and the inhabitants of the savage forests, as well as the forests, groves, and woods themselves,--in a word, all nature seems as if conscious of the effects likely to result to the morals, habits, and projects of men, while some of your modern novelists are arranging their matter, sharpening their scissors, preparing pen, ink, and paper, and taking indigestible suppers to make way into the world for the offspring of their creative fancies.

Ours being a tale of truth,--yes, of bare, unvarnished truth, yet of truth more interesting, if not "stranger, than fiction,"--it is not to be wondered that, when we acknowledge the homely dame, and her alone, as our guide, inspirer, and preceptor, we lack the advantage of romancers, and cannot command "a special sunset," or a storm made to order, or other enchanting scenery, to introduce us to our patrons.

We must take things as we find them; and this is why cold, rain, and frost, the whistling of merciless winds, together with false and pitiless ice, const.i.tute the princ.i.p.al features of our introductory chapter. The merry chimes of sleigh bells, as if to add gloom to the scene, were silent, no snow having fallen this winter, and the ice being irregular and lumpy. The streets of the city of T---- were almost entirely deserted of foot pa.s.sengers, owing to the danger of walking over the slippery pavement; while cabmen and omnibus conductors had cautiously driven their teams to the stable or smithy, to have them "sharpened" for the frozen coat of mail which enveloped the earth. When about dusk, an aged gentleman, in a cloak, with a sharp-pointed cane in his hand, might be observed moving along the gutter of a narrow street.

Occasionally he would slip so as to come on one knee, and now he would steer himself along by taking hold of the sills of windows, and of the railings which here and there were erected in front of a few houses on the retired and deserted street on which he crept along.

At length he approaches an old three-story, red, frame-built house, which, from its shattered and dilapidated windows, at first seemed to be deserted, but which, from the description left by a messenger with his domestic in the forenoon, he could not doubt was the place where he heard the emigrant widow lay at the point of death.

"Is this where the sick woman is?" said he to an old woman who opened the door.

"Yes, your reverence," answered Mrs. Doherty, at once recognizing the priest; "and thank G.o.d you are come. The Lord never deserts his own, praise be to his holy name."

"Is she very ill?" said Father O'Shane; for thus was named the sole pastor of the city of T---- in those days.

"That she is, your reverence, and callin' for the priest this three days; but as we heard your reverence say that you would be in the country till this day, we thought it no use to give in the sick call sooner. I myself gave it in this morning afore my poor, sick old man got up."

"G.o.d help the poor!" muttered the tender-hearted priest, as he ascended to the third floor, where the dying woman lay.

"Amen!" answered Mrs. Doherty, aloud. "You would pity her, your reverence, if you seen the misery they are in this two months; and it is easily telling they saw better days in the ould country. It is easily knowing _that_, by the _dacent_, mannerly children she has around her, G.o.d help 'em."

"Pax huic domui, et omnibus habitantibus in ea"--"Peace to this house, and all that dwell therein," uttered the priest of G.o.d, as he opened the latchless door of the room on the third story of the old "Oil Mill House," where the patient was extended on her "pallet of straw." For a moment he stood on the threshold, for within an unusual and solemn sight presented itself to his view. A woman of fair and comely features, between about thirty and forty years of age, lay as described on the floor, with four children kneeling around her. The eldest, a lad of about fifteen years, read aloud the litanies and prayers of the church for the dying, while the three younger children repeated the responses in fervent but trembling accents.

"Lord, have mercy on her," cried Paul, the eldest boy.

"Christ, have mercy on her," answered the younger children.

"Holy Mary." _R._ "Pray for her."

"All ye holy angels and archangels." _R._ "Pray for her."

"All ye choirs of the just." _R._ "Pray for her."

"All ye saints of G.o.d." _R._ "Make intercession for her."

"From thy anger, from an unhappy death, from the pains of h.e.l.l." _R._ "Deliver her, O Lord."

"By thy cross and pa.s.sion, by thy death and burial, by thy glorious resurrection, in the day of judgment." _R._ "Deliver her, O Lord."

"Deliver, O Lord, the soul of thy servant from all danger of h.e.l.l, and from all pain and tribulation." _R._ "Amen."

"Deliver, O Lord, the soul of thy servant, as thou deliveredst Enoch and Elias from the common death of the world." _R._ "Amen."

"Deliver, O Lord, the soul of thy servant, as thou deliveredst Noah from the flood." _R._ "Amen."