The work of the
PATRICIAN BROTHERS
in
FETHARD

1873-1994

 Published by
Fethard Historical Society
1996

A Tribute

 No more we'll see those men serene
in black soutane and sash of green
Traverse our streets and narrow lanes,
‘Neath North Gate and where history reigns.

 They came to educate and teach
and help our eager boys to reach
Their hopes and dreams long denied
by a foreign power through cruel pride.

 Latin, Greek and Irish too
they taught with zeal and homage true.
Our Gaelic games and pastimes rare,
they handed on with loving care.

 One wonders then if man or State
will ever come to appreciate,
Work well done by sterling men
Who dismissed the sword and relied on pen.

 Perhaps in time those noble few
Will have proper tribute paid; long due.
And we can say with mind unfettered,
Arise; Well done! from a grateful Fethard.

 Foreword

The first community of the Brothers of St. Patrick of whose life in Fethard it is proposed we give some account, was formed on the 2nd of February 1808 at Tullow by Dr. Daniel Delaney, Bishop of Kildare and Leghlin.  It consisted of just four men: James McMahon, Maurice Cummins, Richard Fitzpatrick and Ambrose Dawson.  All except the first named were local men, labourers once tradesmen.  On the morning of foundation day the bishop celebrated Mass for the four in the old chapel at Tullow, the same semi-derelict building which had served James McMahon as residence and schoolhouse over the previous two years.  Among Patrician Brothers to this day, there survives a tradition that at the Mass of foundation, Dr. Delaney paused for a moment of silent prayer, immediately after the consecration, then took the Host, touched it to the wood of the new tabernacle and uttered aloud the words: “Ne quis evertat quid feci.” (Let no man undo what I have done.)

I believe we cannot have a picture without a background to it, so it is only fair that we try to set a stage for the Brothers as well as we can, against which they can strut and play their part, and make their bow to us before they go.

 “As no man is born wise; but wisdom and virtue require a tutor;
Though we can easily learn to be vicious without a martyr.”

 NATIONAL NEEDS AND ASPIRATIONS

 The Ireland, which, in the words of Dr. Johnson, had been in older days, “The school of the west,” emerged from the welter of conflicts — with her cultural and social systems, if not destroyed, at least distorted.  Thenceforth, the school was made the sphere and an instrument of state craft which aimed at the complete assimilation  — cultural, religious and political — of the defeated nation.

This aim was the distinctive note of government action in all branches of education down until the nineteenth century.  However, this educational policy was not the only one operational in Ireland in this period.  There were always to be found teachers and scholars to carry on the work of education on lines other than those of governmental policy.  All through this period there was never a complete relaxation of the effort to provide an education more in harmony with Irish national needs and aspirations.  The old hedge schools in which the “teacher and his pupils met feloniously to learn” often showed high educational efficiency and in them was kept alive not only the spark of knowledge, but also national feelings and aspirations maintained and fostered.  The partial relaxation of the penal laws against Irish education towards the end of the eighteenth century onwards gave wider scope to Irish education action. That relaxation was productive of the education of our own day.  To this period, too, belong many of the most important agencies of instruction in the annals of Irish education, such as the schools of the Christian Brothers, the Brothers of St. Patrick, the great convent schools associated with the names of Nano Nagle, Catherine McAuley and Mary Aikenhead.  Those foundations owed in their origin absolutely nothing to the support or favour of official quarters and were often referred to as “treasonable societies.”  At last we had dedicated men and women, delighted to discover and call forth the talents of others, rather than make a display of their own.

In 1873 Fethard had approximately two thousand inhabitants.  We had the Presentation order of nuns already established for ten years since 1862.  We had a middle class proportionally small and ill educated.  We, too, had many opulent proprietors rarely resident on their estates.  Our poor were numerous and illiterate — their cheerless hovels forming many of our streets.  Yet, electricity, motor cars, wireless, insurance companies and friendly bank managers were about to expel nearly all possibility of peril from society.  We were a garrison town: in that we had better advantages and spinoffs.

The comfortable thatched farmhouse still adorned the countryside, the churn was in the kitchen and the kettle on the hob.  The old hedge school where a poor scholar paid his way with a penny a week and the odd sod of turn for the fire was now a fast fading memory.  The ABC of day-to-day living was fast changing.  England’s Industrial Revolution needed massive resources of labour to fuel it.  Trade and commerce expanded, opportunities hitherto unheard of were presented to those who could read and write.  However, the path of knowledge to the common man was considered to be harsh and therefore undesirable.  Over use of the birch (that much abused instrument of instruction) by the hedge masters had left its mark.  Something had to be done to offset the delights of the wood and field, hill and  river.  Compulsory education was shortly to become law.  The Irish Education Act of 1892 made school attendance compulsory for children of school-going age.  School attendance officers or committees were formed, bye-laws were passed requiring parents to cause their children to attend school.  Breach of an attendance order or of the bye-laws usually brought a fine.  In extreme cases boys were liable to be sent to certified industrial schools, the parent was compelled to contribute towards his maintenance.  Despite relaxation of the Penal laws and concessions by parliament in 1793, the Catholic majority being permitted to have schools, to hold land on lease, to enter most the professions and to vote at parliamentary elections, political and religious discrimination was still a part of state policy.  Changes were coming and the boys and girls of future generations who would clamour at the door for instruction would be readily admitted.

 A NEW FOUNDATION

 It was the last quarter of the nineteenth century.  It is a dark lowering day towards the end of December — all is covered with snow.  Under sheltered walls, open to the south, the river Clashawley swollen by the winter rain rolls sulkily down the Valley.  A tall figure in black cloak and hat alights from a Bianconi coach, and with a sidelong glance at the splendid cavalry barracks makes his way to the parochial house, the residence of the Rev. Dean Cantwell P.P. in the Main Street.  The year is 1873 and the commanding figure is that of Brother Augustine Holton on a reconnaissance mission from Tullow Patrician Monastery, Co. Carlow to honour a repeated and pressing invitation.

Nearly thirty years had elapsed since the Brothers in Ireland had attempted a new foundation.  The failure, through various and unrelated causes, of three generations had made them cautious of new ventures.  However, Augustine Holton’s survey resulted in their sending three men to Fethard.  These were Brothers Augustine Holton, Vincent Riordan and Arsenious Fitzpatrick and they took up residence on St. Patrick’s Day 1873.  Augustine was superior appropriately enough, perhaps, considering his background in the Dublin Metropolitan Police.  So Rev. Dean Cantwell’s urgency had a positive outcome.  The Brothers were destined to occupy a distinguished place in the life of Fethard for the next one hundred and twenty years.

SOWING THE SEED

 The community of Brothers was to conduct two establishments, a primary or free school, and a classical (or Secondary) school.  Both these were housed in the same building on different floors in the old laundry, the property of the Presentation nuns.  The fact that the free school was not connected with the National Board meant that the parish was responsible for the salaries of the teachers and the upkeep of the premises.  This arrangement was the product of years of distrust between religious orders, indeed, the Catholic and Protestant churches too and those charged with the operation of the system of national education in Ireland.  Monastic orders had their beginning in the 6th century.  To the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience were added that of manual labour where available.  This latter requirement provided the Brothers even as late as the end of the nineteenth century with their only means of subsistence.  So we can say at this juncture that the popular idea of the monk in many minds was a fat man in a frock, sheltered by the cloister, spending his time growing vegetables or distilling brews from herbal plants.  Thankfully, the reality would be more purposeful — the Brothers would endeavour to make the exercises of the body go hand in hand with those of the mind.

Pupils seeking post primary education often went from school to school and from area to area, as their needs dictated or as the fame of a master drew them.  Brother Anthony O'Neill, specially sent from Galway for the purpose, was the first classical teacher in the High School at Fethard.  in 1874 on transfer to Tullow he was succeeded by Brother Jerome McAuley.  Enrolment at the time was no more than 20 or 25 and of this number more than half came from neighbouring parishes, notably Ballingarry.  Such “exiles” were placed in lodgings in Fethard or nearby during term time.

 Some returned home at weekends but for most it was a matter of being absent from home for nine to ten months.  Each Sunday the Superior and another Brother visited the families with whom the boys lodged.  The ensure that all was in order, use was made of a leaflet carrying about a dozen queries:  Is the boy obedient and respectful?  Is he in for family prayers?  Does he go to Mass?  How long does he spend at his books?  The completed leaflet was sent to the parents.  “A system,” comments the Annals, “founded on the ancient custom of fosterage, and one suited to the needs of the times.”  The school, in common with the other Patrician schools, availed itself of the Intermediate Education System set up in 1878.  A little later a classical school was set up at Ballingarry by Canon James Cantwell, nephew of the Dean, and this naturally resulted in a large falling off in enrolment at Fethard.  By this time too the Brothers had entered into heavy commitments to the missions in India and Australia.  As the High School was tying up staff badly needed elsewhere, and was in financial sense “non-viable”, it was closed about the year 1890. The brothers however continued to teach Latin and Greek when requested.

 The Old School

The Brothers of the old school are now long gone, and with them died the secrets of its mysteries.  We wonder what were the themes propounded? We should like to see the books that formed its library.  No doubt most were filled with the golden maxims of love, honour and obey with the politics that guided them.  We can also imagine the amusements of the playground — here were nurtured the skills for future sportsmen of track and field to indulge their special talent.  Many would over the years and not without a touch of sadness return to visit the scene of former enjoyments.  The education given was sound and thorough, practical and useful, in short the principle on which the school was conducted was one of moral development.  Many invaluable lessons were learned that had nothing to do with books, the sort of lessons that later prove useful as guiding lights.  School began at 9 o'clock and the late comer was made to regret his tardiness.  Summer holidays commenced in August and lasted only one month.  The hot days of June and July blaze as they would , the school day from 9 o'clock to 3.30 p.m. was not shortened a minute.  How wearisome was the long school session; on those warm summer days how slow the clock seemed.  But through the school windows, the boys could see the distant hills, and hear the soft summer wind sighing in the trees, their boyish hearts were listening not to teachers, but the the voice of nature calling them to the delights of hill and river where they went barefoot getting many a thorn and many a bruise.  School books before the turn of the century by Professor Robert Sullivan were found to contain much more information in all branches of education than is usually met with in much larger volumes.  Geography Generalised, the Spelling Book Superseded, A School Grammar of the English Language, A commercial Arithmetic, The Duties of A Christian — all enabling the monks to give lessons in geography, writing, spelling grammar and composition to large numbers of pupils at the same time.

The old primary school in Main Street adjacent to the Holy Trinity Catholic Church was used as class rooms and monastery.  A classical school known as “The Academy” operated in the same building.  Among the first pupils were Reverend John Cantwell D.D. late Archbishop of Los Angeles, Rev. Monsignor Cantwell and Rev. Arthur Cantwell P.P. all grand-nephews of the man who invited the Brothers to Fethard.  Besides these, many distinguished priests of the archdiocese and the foreign missions were alumni of the classical school including the late Dr. P. O'Donnell, Archbishop of Brisbane.

 Rocklow Road 1887

Application was made for the building of a new primary school in 1885, the foundation stone of which was laid two years later by Dean Kinane P.P.  It was officially named Fethard Monastery School.  In 1893 Brother Paul Curran purchased the building at the corner of Burke Street opposite the Augustinian Abbey.  It served as the Brothers monastery residence and is said to be the former seat of a prior of St. Augustine.  Brother Joseph Moran while superintending the building work for the new primary school took a chill which developed into pneumonia.  He died on 11th January 1898, the first Patrician Brother to die in Fethard.  However, his building became his monument and for many years served its purpose as a national school.  Through the years many able and devoted brothers have given themselves to the work of education in Fethard.  The older generation recall with affection the names of Brother Leo Slattery, RIP, Brother Gerard Tierney, RIP, Brother Athanasius Phelan, Brother Lewy Sullivan, Brother Hilarian O’Keeffe, RIP and of course Brother Vincent Riordan.  he was among the first brothers to come to Fethard and the second Brother to be buried here after his death on 14th February 1909.  “Years fled he wore a manly face and struggled in the world’s rough race, and won, at last, a lofty place.”

In the days past as many of us were painfully aware, the favourite method of making boys wise was too often over use of the birch together with the odd right hand.  At the risk of being unchivalrous it must be said that this had a depressing effect on the free spirit of some and did not lead them freely and joyously on in the path of knowledge, making it pleasant and desirable in their eyes. Instead it gave rise to deep resentment, especially n those who were less bright.  Our early school days leave with us treasured memories.  We call to mind the Brothers who beguiled many a weary school day reading about the Ireland of long ago before the Danes and the Normans came — pre Christian times among Druids and high kings.  We traced in thought the roads that led from Tara when there were no county boundaries, nor petty differences and local prejudices..  Two-pence was talking to twopence-halfpenny as we followed the heroes of cattle spoils; and the long journeys of Brian’s fleet-footed messengers across our ancient country, ever mindful of the mysterious Druidical rites performed in forest glades.  Yes, memories may recede but they never disappear.  We can draw them up from the deep well of our youthful recollections and savour them again and again.  Such memories can also be suddenly evoked by something as simple as a First Communion or Confirmation day.  Who doesn't remember their First Communion?  For many, the mixture of childhood innocence, religious solemnity and human excitement made this day memorable — stirring up emotions to sadness, delight and gratitude.  Can we forget the days of our own youth when, without the aids now within reach of the young, we sought for mental information and vigour.  To the boys and girls who are in our schools today will be given opportunities which no other generation has ever had, thanks to the unselfish dedication of the Brothers of St. Patrick.

Footprints

“Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime
And, departing, leave behind us,
Footprints on the sands of time.”

 The passing years were not uneventful in the lives of the Brothers.  Those qualities of learning of the first order, and an integrity of life seldom equalled were channelled into cultivating the minds and manners of youth.  The order much favoured the design of philosophical and contemplative men such as those unassociated with public affairs and prepared to abandon the pursuits of profit and pleasure being zealous in the interest of learning and morality.  Such a man was Brother Gerard Tierney.  Joseph Tierney was born in the parish of Prosperous, County Kildare in the year 1898.  At his admission to the novitiate Joseph took the religious name of Gerard.  A year later, 15th August 1918, he made first profession of temporary vows in the congregation and began his studies for the King’s scholarship.  Gerard was set to work in the congregation’s primary school at Fethard, his first posting to an active community.  That was the period of the Great War and our war of independence, of “the troubles” and Tipperary soon came under martial law.  One of the restrictions imposed prohibited men from walking abroad with hands in pockets, a dire affliction in that part of the country.  Like many  young religious before and since, Gerard often walked with a hand in each pocket of his soutane, until one morning on his way to school he was stopped by an angry challenge from across the way.  A patrolling Black and Tan was covering him with a rifle and demanding that he remove his hands from his pockets, carefully.  Guns and rebellion were not in Gerard’s makeup at any time.  The tranquillity of life in Fethard pleased him, his love of books was soothed by the many beautify passages met with in the writings of poets and philosophers, who were partial in their praise of the contemplative life.  Gerard was transferred to Mallow in 1928; it was already apparent that physical and mental suffering had set its seal upon him, arthritis, defective eyesight, together with a nervous disorder made the ordinary duties of teaching and supervision difficult.  He began to be plagued by doubt of the doctrine of the Eucharist.  Confiding in no-one but relying on his great spiritual strength, he battled to accept his multiple troubles as the filling up of his share in the Cross of Christ and found peace.  Gradually increasing disabilities finally made school and work impossible.  Broken in body and with his sight gone, he used his disabilities to increase his devotion to the Passion and to draw closer to Jesus in the altar.  As the arthritis progressed he was lifted into and out of bed, all these movements causing agony. After years of suffering Brother Gerard died in 1950.  Many people who were acquainted with him could not but admire his sense of Christian suffering and often felt compelled to ask his intercession for themselves or their intentions.

Since his death three persons in Fethard say that they have received favours through his intercession.  Individual Patrician Brothers have from time to time turned to Gerard in their needs. {Extract from a biography of Brother Gerard by Rev. Brother Linus H. Walker.}  For those interested in the life of Brother Gerard “Fruit That Will Last” is essential reading.  “For many years and in diverse places interested persons have questioned the Patrician Brothers about their distinctive green sash and its historical background.”  An answer required that the camera of research should be focussed on Brother Aloysius Howlin from the County of Wexford, for to him goes the credit for the existence of the sash.

Brother Aloysius John Howlin was one of the most dynamic back-room men to have entrusted his life and talents to the Patrician Brothers.  He brought a new dignity and urgency to everything he undertook.  A man of a virile spirituality, boundless energy and scholarly accomplishments, he inspired confidence by the strength of his convictions and the open sincerity of his heart.  Again I would refer interested persons to a biography by Linus H. Walker, Patrician Brothers entitled “Once a Soldier.”  Since the brothers now had foundations on three continents it was scarcely consistent or convenient for them to remain an entirely diocesan congregation.  For this labour of supreme importance and altogether unknown difficulty, Aloysius was nominated.  Leo XIII was on the papal theme and here was John Howlin after a wearying journey hoping to secure that papal seal of approval on the work of a tiny brotherhood.  Memory had stirred in him the time he had enlisted in Dublin in April 1861 and with twenty others had travelled via Liverpool and Hull to Antwerp, the very first contingent of The Brothers of St. Patrick to embark on the papal service.  Now he was at this time on a very different mission.  After many frustrations, setbacks and disappointments, his wildest dreams were surpassed.  A private audience!  This surely, he felt, must be an omen of the ultimate success of his mission.  He had all the more reason to think so when towards the end of the audience the Pope enquired to object of his present visit to Rome and expressed warm approval of it.  In the act of going on his knees, Aloysius had halted, thunder-stricken and embarrassed, when a smiling chamberlain presented him in the words “Holy Father, the Irishman who says that you would not be Pope but for him,” but Leo had laughed and enquired as to the nature of his “Irish friends” influence in the conclave.  For a while then they discussed Perlegia and the Papal War, before going on to matters of more immediate concern to the Brothers.  Leo had signalled the end of the audience by asking if there was anything he desired for himself personally, but Aloysius had been so happy that he was on the point of saying there was nothing when he had noticed again the robes of the papal officials in the chamber.  On an impulse, and scarcely able to frame the request, he had asked if His Holiness would be pleased to grant “. . . on his own initiative and as a mark of special favour . . . since it was not in the constitutions . . . that the Brothers should have . . . should be allowed to add to the garb prescribed by rule a green sash in honour of St. Patrick,” he added hastily.  The favour granted and the apostolic benediction imparted, “for you very specially, for your brethren and for your countrymen” Aloysius withdrew and began with a light heart preparations for an immediate return to Ireland.  He brought with him the never-to-be-forgotten experience of being ushered suddenly into another spiritual atmosphere when earth seemed forgotten.  The ceremonies so touching and impressive, the hymns so devotional and heartfelt, the faith so simple and strong, and the confidence in our heavenly home so unquestioning in a new world to him.

 A New Era Dawns