Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
A History of the Franciscan Order in Ireland (Author: Donagh Mooney)

Subsection 5

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Timoleague

The convent of Timoleague is situated near the sea, in a maritime town of little importance, in the diocese of Ross and county of Cork. It was founded by Lord de Barry for the family of the Observance, on the site of one of his castles. I have been unable to ascertain the date.33 It was the burial place of almost all the nobles of that country. The buildings are still standing, but in great need of repair. The cells in the dormitory have been broken down, and the materials removed. The floor of this portion of the house was supported on beams of carved oak. These, too, have been carried off, but the spoiler did not escape unpunished.

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In the year 1596 Dr. Hanmer34 an English Minister, obtained permission from the Royal Council to make use of this wood-work in the erection of a house. He came to Timoleague, tore down the cells of the dormitory, and placed the beams he coveted on board a vessel in the harbour. He was about setting sail when a violent storm suddenly rose and overwhelmed the ship with all its cargo. This was the more remarkable from the fact that the port was well protected from the winds, and a shipwreck in its calm waters unknown. No wonder the people who had witnessed, or heard of the occurrence deemed it a signal manifestation of the Divine anger, on account of the sacrilege.

Some time before this Lyon,35 the Protestant Bishop of Cork, who yet lives, set about building a mill. He required some iron for the machinery. The friars' mill was convenient. He broke it open and removed all the material he needed. Shortly afterwards a fierce flood rushed down the river, and swept away the Bishop's new mill. There were not a few who recognised in this the power of St. Francis, for they well

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knew that he has often inflicted exemplary punishment upon those who have profaned, or plundered what has been dedicated to his service. Others held that it was a mere accident. These, however, had cause to change their minds before many weeks had passed. The Bishop came to the place fully determined to rebuild the mill. He ordered what remained of the machinery and the very mill stones belonging to the friars to be removed to the site he had fixed upon for the new building. He hired labourers and set them to work, but scarcely had they commenced, when he was stricken with such terror that he told them to desist. He afterwards publicly confessed, that he was impelled to this, not by any feeling of compassion for the friars, whose property he had taken possession of, but by a sudden fear that if he continued the work, some great evil would surely befall him. He was convinced, he said, that the flood which had swept away the mill on a former occasion was an effect of the power of St. Francis, and he dared not proceed further with his designs lest something worse should happen to him. He then went his way and left the mill unfinished. After this there were few indeed who did not look upon the whole circumstance as a miraculous interposition of Divine Providence.

On another occasion, in the year 1612, the same Dr. Lyon resolved to surprise, and capture if possible, the friars, and the multitude of devoted people whom he knew would assemble in the church of Timoleague for the celebration of the Divine service on Christmas night. He lived in the city of Cork, eighteen miles distant. It was therefore necessary to set out on the preceding day. This he determined to do, notwithstanding the remonstrances and entreaties of many of his friends, who expressed their belief that such deeds never pass unpunished. He mounted his horse, surrounded by a number of miscreants, whom he had selected to be his partners in this impiety and sacrilege. He had scarcely started on his journey when he was seized by a pain in the stomach, so violent that he had of necessity to alight and wrap himself in warm flannels. The pain passed away, and the warning from on High was unheeded. He muffled himself in heavier clothes, and again took his seat in the saddle. He had gone

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but a little distance outside the city when another access of pain forced him to dismount a second time. He found relief after some delay, but even then, in opposition to the advice of his followers, he persisted in his wicked design. Having ridden for three or four miles the agony was renewed, and he found it impossible to advance another step. He then acknowledged that the hand of God was in these repeated attacks, and that it was in vain for him to contend against the Lord and St. Francis. Retracing his steps to Cork, he grew better and better as he approached the city — that is, as to his body, for as to his soul or as to sorrow for his sins, no improvement resulted from the bitter lesson. Some say, however, that he was less rabid in his persecution of the Franciscans from that time.

The following incident happened in Timoleague during the late war. A company of English soldiers consisting of one hundred foot and fifty horse, was marching in that direction. They approached the village, and saw with astonishment the elegantly built convent and well furnished church, the stained-glass windows, and beautiful paintings round the altars. The fury of the bigots was roused at the sight. They destroyed the paintings, broke the statues to pieces, and smashed the glass in the windows with stones. The carpenter, who had general charge of the repairs of the building, was present. Carried away by indignation and zeal, he broke out into the following appeal to St. Francis. — ‘Holy Father,’ he exclaimed, ‘thy power is great before the Lord, and thou canst obtain whatsoever thou desirest. Now I swear that I will never work a single day in this your convent, nor help its inmates in any way unless you take vengeance on the sacrilegious ruffians who have profaned your church.’ The soldiers having wrecked the church and monastery proceeded on their march the following day. They had not advanced far when they encountered Donnell O'Sullivan, a noble Irishman, who was then carrying on war against the English, in alliance with the other Catholic princes. He had somewhat less than eighty foot soldiers with him, yet he bravely charged the enemy, who numbered, as I have said, one hundred and fifty. His

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victory was complete. Of the whole company but one escaped from the battlefield.36

In this convent repose the remains of the holy martyr, the Rev. Owen MacEgan, who, while acting as chaplain to the Catholic army in 1602, was mortally wounded and left for dead on the field. He expired shortly afterwards with sentiments of great zeal and charity, in presence of the priests and doctors who attended him. These have declared, and confirmed their declaration by oath, that as he breathed forth his soul, an extraordinary brightness filled the place so that the light of the lamp was obscured, and a great joy gladdened their hearts. He was buried in the cloister, near the north-western angle. A small cross in the wall marks his resting-place.

Many were the excellent and devoted religious who lived and died in the Convent of Timoleague, but time, the great destroyer, has blotted out the memory of almost all. The following miracle is recorded of one of them, a holy and simple-minded priest, named Maurice O'Hickey. In the year 1595 a certain man lay ill unto death, without any hope from human aid. He sent for Fr. O'Hickey, and besought him to bless some water for him. He blessed it, and it was changed into most sweet and excellent milk. The sick man drank of it, and recovered his health in a marvellous manner. He lived for more than twenty years, until 1619. In the first year of my provincialship (1615) I made inquiry into the truth of this miracle, and ascertained that the man who had been cured had on several occasions borne witness to the fact, before a large number of people.

There are now but two friars in Timoleague, and even these have oftentimes to fly from the fury of their persecutors.