Traditional Latin Mass in Charleville, Co. Cork

 

Latin Mass in Ballyhea - Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel

The next Traditional Latin Mass in St. Mary's Church, Ballyhea, Co. Cork, will be on the Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, 16th July, at 12 noon.

Come and pray with us!

Latin Mass in Ballyhea - Feast of Saints Peter and Paul

The next Mass in St. Mary's Church, Ballyhea, Co. Cork, will be on the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, 29th June, at 12 noon.

Come and pray with us!

Traditional Easter Triduum

The Easter Ceremonies in the Gregorian Rite:

Holy Thursday

4 p.m. - Holy Mass: Silverstream Priory, Stamullen, Co. Meath
6 p.m. - Holy Mass: Sacred Heart Church, The Crescent, Limerick City
6 p.m. - Holy Mass: Ss. Peter and Paul's Church, Paul Street, Cork City
7 p.m. - Holy Mass: St. Kevin's Church, Harrington Street, Dublin 8.
7.30 p.m. - Tenebrae: Silverstream Priory, Stamullen, Co. Meath

Good Friday

12 noon - Stations of the Cross: Ss. Peter and Paul's Church, Paul Street, Cork City
3 p.m. - Liturgy of the Passion: Sacred Heart Church, The Crescent, Limerick City
3 p.m. - Liturgy of the Passion: Silverstream Priory, Stamullen, Co. Meath
5 p.m. - Liturgy of the Passion: St. Kevin's Church, Harrington Street, Dublin 8.
6 p.m. - Liturgy of the Passion: Ss. Peter and Paul's Church, Paul Street, Cork City
7 p.m. - Stations of the Cross: St. Kevin's Church, Harrington Street, Dublin 8.
7.30 p.m. - Tenebrae: Silverstream Priory, Stamullen, Co. Meath

Holy Saturday

12.30 p.m. - Tenebrae: Ss. Peter and Paul's Church, Paul Street, Cork City
8 p.m. - Easter Vigil: Silverstream Priory, Stamullen, Co. Meath
8.30 p.m. - Easter Vigil: Ss. Peter and Paul's Church, Paul Street, Cork City
9 p.m. - Easter Vigil: Sacred Heart Church, The Crescent, Limerick City
9 p.m. - Easter Vigil: St. Kevin's Church, Harrington Street, Dublin 8.

Easter Sunday

9 a.m. - Holy Mass: St. Mary's Church, Ballyhea, Co. Cork
9 a.m. - Holy Mass: St. Mary's Church, Chapel Street, Newry, Co. Down
10 a.m. - Holy Mass: St. Patrick's Church, Drumkeen, Co. Donegal
10 a.m. - Holy Mass: Silverstream Priory, Stamullen, Co. Meath
10.30 a.m. - Holy Mass: Sacred Heart Church, The Crescent, Limerick City
10.30 a.m. - Holy Mass: St. Kevin's Church, Harrington Street, Dublin 8.
12 noon - Holy Mass: Ss. Peter and Paul's Church, Paul Street, Cork City
1.30 p.m. - Holy Mass: Holy Cross Church (O.P.), Tralee, Co. Kerry
2 p.m. - Holy Mass: St. Columba's Church, Longtower, Derry City
4 p.m. - Holy Mass: St. Therese's Church, Somerton Road, Belfast City
5 p.m. - Holy Mass: St. Patrick's Church, College Road, Kilkenny City
5.30 p.m. - Holy Mass: Blessed Sacrament Chapel, Our Lady's Shrine, Knock, Co. Mayo

Beannachtaí na Cásca oraibh go léir!
A happy and holy Easter to one and all!

Latin Mass in Ballyhea - Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene

We returned to the shores of "gentle Mullagh" in the lea of Ballyhoura today for the Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene. There we attended the Traditional Latin Mass celebrated in St. Mary's Church, Ballyhea.  The report of the Mass on Easter Monday can be found here.

Garret Mac Eniry's A Tale of the Munster Peasantry contained in P. W. Joyce's 1911 The Wonders of Ireland (to be found here) contains the following description of the Ballyhoura Mountains:

The Ballyhoura Mountains extend for several miles on the borders of the counties of Cork and Limerick. Commencing near Charleville, they stretch away towards the east, consisting of a succession of single peaks with lone and desolate valleys lying between, covered with heath or coarse grass, where for ages the silence has been broken only by the cry of the heath-cock or the yelp of the fox echoing among the rocks that are strewn in wild confusion over the sides of the mountains. They increase gradually in height towards the eastern extremity of the range, where they are abruptly terminated by the majestic Seefin, which projecting forwards—its back to the west and its face to the rising sun—seems placed there to guard the desolate solitudes behind it.

Towards the east it overlooks a beautiful and fertile valley, through which a little river winds its peaceful course to join the Funsheon; on the west "Blackrock of the eagle" rears its front —a sheer precipice—over Lyre-na-Freaghawn, a black heath-covered glen that divides the mountains. On the south it is separated by Lyre-na-Grena the "valley of the sun," from "the Long Mountain," which stretches far away towards Glenanaar; and immediately in front, on the opposite side of the valley, rises Barna Geeha, up whose sides cultivation has crept almost to its summit. Just under the eastern face of Seefin, at its very base, and extending even a little way up the mountain steep, reposes the peaceful little village of Glenosheen.[2]

Gentle reader, go if you can on some sunny morning in summer or autumn—let it be Sunday morning if possible—to the bottom of the valley near the bank of the little stream, and when you cast your eyes up to the village and the great green hill over it, you will admit that not many places even in our own green island can produce a prettier or more cheerful prospect. There is the little hamlet, with its whitewashed cottages gleaming in the morning beams, and from each a column of curling smoke rises slowly straight up towards the blue expanse. The base of the mountain is covered with wood, and several clumps of great trees are scattered here and there through the village, so that it appears imbedded in a mass of vegetation, its pretty cottages peeping out from among the foliage. The land on each side rises gently towards the mountain, its verdure interspersed by fields of blossomed potatoes laughing with joy, or of bright yellow corn, or more beautiful still, little patches of flax clothed in their Sunday dress of light blue.[3] Seefin rises directly over the village, a perfect cone; white patches of sheep are scattered here and there over its bright sunny face; and see, far up towards the summit, that long line of cattle, just after leaving Lyre-na-Grena, where they were driven to be milked, and grazing quietly along towards Lyre-na-Freaghawn.

The only sounds that catch your ear are, the occasional crow of a cock, or the exulting cackle of a flock of geese, or the softened low of a cow may reach you, floating down the hill side; or the cry of the herdsman, as with earnest gestures he endeavours to direct the movements of the cattle. But hear that merry laugh. See, it comes from the brow of the hill where the women of the village are just coming into view, returning from Lyre-na-Grena after milking their cows. Each carries a pail in one hand and a spancel in the other, and as they approach the village, descending the steep pathway—the "Dray-road," as it is called—that leads from "The Lyre," a gabble of voices mingled with laughter floats over the village, as merry and as happy as ever rung on human ear. Observe now they arrive at the village, the group becomes thinner as they proceed down the street, and at length all again is quietness.

Happy village! Pleasant scenes of my childhood! How vividly at this moment do I behold that green hill-side, as I travel back in imagination to the days of my boyhood, when I and my little brother Robert, and our companions—all now scattered over this wide world—ranged joyful among the glens in search of birds' nests, or climbed the rocks at its summit, eager to plant ourselves on its dizzy elevation. Why did ambition tempt me to leave my peaceful home?

Why did I abandon that sunny valley, where I might have travelled gently down the vale of life, free from those ambitious aspirations, those struggles with fortune that only destroy my peace? But though exiled far from my home, my heart shall never cease to point to its loved retirement; and ever, as release from business grants me the opportunity, I shall return to wander over the scenes of my infancy, to hold communion once again with the few companions of my boyhood that remain, and to think with feelings of kindly regret on those that are gone. And when weary from the incessant struggles of life, I seek an asylum from its turmoil, grant me, oh, kind Providence, to spend my declining years in that beloved valley, and to rest at length my aged head in the grave of my fathers on the green hill of Ardpatrick.[4]

About a century and a-half ago, that part of the valley where the village now stands was almost uninhabited. It was covered with a vast forest of oaks, which not only clothed the valley, but extended more than half way up to the summits of the surrounding hills; and to this day the inhabitants will tell you, in the words of their fathers, that "a person could travel from Ardpatrick to Darra (about five miles) along the branches of the trees." No human habitation relieved the loneliness, save only one small cottage that stood near the base of the hill. It was inhabited, from times too remote for even the memory of tradition to reach, by a family named MacEniry, descendants of that princely sept that once possessed the Ballyhoura Mountains with many miles of the surrounding country. About three acres of land just in front of the house, and a small garden in the rear, had been rescued by some of the early dwellers from the grasp of the forest; the produce of these, with the assistance of a cow or two, and a few sheep and goats that browsed on the mountain side, afforded each succeeding family a means of subsistence; and they lived as happy as the days are long in the quiet of their mountain solitude.

[2] See "Sir Donall" and "The White Ladye" in Robert Dwyer Joyce's "Ballads of Irish Chivalry" for all these places commemorated in verse.
[3] Flax was grown there then (1845); but there is no flax now (1911).
[4] All this sentiment was natural enough for a young man, homesick, after leaving his native place; but sixty years or more will bring changes of feeling (April, 1911).

Latin Mass in Ballyhea for Easter Monday

Ballyhea lies just south of Charleville, Co. Cork, in the lea of the Ballyhoura Mountains and along the waters of the Awbeg River, the tributary of the Blackwater once immortalised by Edmund Spenser as "gentle Mullagh".  On Easter Monday morning, some members and friends made their way to the Parish Church of St. Mary for the offering of the almost monthly Traditional Latin Mass there.

Back on the Rails VII - The Newmarket Branch Line

Since I'm back on the rails again after a long pause, I hope you won't mind if I take a break from the West Cork line to go north and follow a branch line that covered nearly 9 miles, crossing the River Dalua at Kanturk and down towards the River Blackwater where it meets the main line (still open) between Mallow and Millstreet at Banteer. The Newmarket to Banteer Branch Line was opened in 1889, built by local notables who had formed the Banteer and Newmarket Railway Company. After four years it was taken over by the Great Southern and Western Railway.

A daily service ran until 'the Emergency' when, in 1942, it suffered a temporary closure. Only a goods service recommenced in 1956 and was finally closed in 1963. A few Parliamentary Questions set the scene, in 1946, 1948, in 1954 and in 1956.

We are in the Barony of Duhallow, a land of poetry. It boasts some of the most poetic scenery and some of the most poetic placenames in all of Cork, Lyre and Nadd, Assolas and Knocknanuss.

I started my journey at Newmarket. The town was founded in 1620 by the Aldworth family, to whom it has been granted by James I upon the forfeiture by the MacAuliffes, as their market town.  What remains of the terminus station is a small red-brick building now part of 'the Railway Industrial Park.  It sits in a natural valley just below the town formed by a tributary stream of the River Dalua.  The railway follows the valley of this stream and then the River Dalua down to Kanturk.

St. Mary's Parish Church, Newmarket

The beautiful St. Mary's Church was a benefaction of the Aldworths, who gave both the site and a donation towards the building.  The original Altar was a copy of that of the ancient abbey of Quin.

Newmarket's most famous inhabitants are the Currans, the Philpot Currans, who gave eminent members to the Irish Bar and to Irish History, and whose family plot may be found in the Anglican cemetery here.  Sarah was the sweetheart of Robert Emmet, the darling of Éireann.  Her father, John Philpot Curran, was Master of the Rolls for Ireland, who faught the famous case of Fr. Neale prosecuting Viscount Doneraile at the Cork Assizes, which, since Doneraile had no railway, we may conveniently mention here.

Fr. Neale, the elderly Parish Priest of Doneraile, had condemned from the Altar the adulteries of a parishioner.  The parishioner's sister was mistress of St. Leger St. Leger (sic!), Baron and later Viscount Doneraile, who horsewhipped the Priest, safe in the knowledge that a Protestant jury (Catholic Emancipation was 49 years off in 1780) would never convict him.  However, he did not reckon with JPC, who exposed the falsity of the Viscount's witnesses and turned the jury toward's Fr. Neale's case with his eloquence.  The Viscount challenged JPC to a duel, one of five he is known to have fought.

Sisters Aniceta and Petronella, Sisters of Saint Joseph, natives of nearby Meelin and the former St. Joseph's Convent

It's not too far to go to the O'Keefe Institute, built as Aldworth Court or Newmarket House in 1750.  In common with other great houses, it ceased to be a private residence in the 1920s and in 1927, the Sisters of St. Joseph, founded by St Mary of the Cross MacKillop, patroness of the recent Eucharistic Congress (and unofficially who are misunderstood in a good cause by their Priests).

The next stop, the only intermediate stop, on the Newmarket Branch Line is Kanturk.  As the confluence of the Rivers Allua and Dalua (Allow and Dallow, if you prefer) I will come back to Kanturk when I'm exploring the Blackwater and its tributaries.  Sufficing to say that there is a fine remnant of the railway station, if you know where to look on Percival Street below the Church, and the remnants of the bed of the line on either side of the road.

From Kanturk we follow the Railway along the line of the Dallua to where it flows into the Blackwater.  Finally, just crossing the Blackwater we reach the connection between the Branch and the Main Line at Banteer.  Banteer Station, on the main Dublin-Tralee Line, was opened in 1853 and continues as a passenger stop.

Near Banteer is Knocknaclashy, the site of the last open battle of the Confederate Wars.  I have already covered the execution of Bishop Boetius MacEgan in May, 1650.  A year later, in July, 1651, as the forces of the Catholic Confederation fell back behind the Shannon Donagh MacCarthy, Viscount Muskerry and later Earl of Clancarthy, held the last outpost in his native lands.  His forces moved from Killarney towards Mallow in the direction of the stronghold of Limerick.  They were intercepted near Banteer by Broghill's Parliamentarian forces, who won the skirmish.  Lord Muskerry's forces fell back upon Killarney.  From that point, the war was one of siege and the destruction of the Catholic Confederation assured. 

The final Catholic heritage point about Banteer is the dedication of the Church there to St. Fursey who was the son of a Munster Prince but was born in Galway and is best known for his missionary works in Britain, especially East Anglia.

Pilgrimage to the grave of Little Nellie of Holy God

To conclude our pilgrimage to Cork City we made a unique and precious pilgrimage to the grave of Little Nellie of Holy God.  This heroic young soul should be know to all but may not yet be known to you.  If you don't know of her, you can find accounts of her life here, here and here.

Fr. Willie Doyle, S.J., visited her grave in 1911.  His account can be found here.

Little Nellie should be better known, better loved, better honoured.  Her memory, like her earthly remains, seems to suffer the same fate as Holy God abandoned in the tabernacle.

Pilgrimage to Cork in honour of Bl. Thaddeus McCarthy

The members and friends of the Catholic Heritage Association made a pilgrimage again this year to the Cathedral of Ss. Mary and Anne in Cork City for a Traditional Latin Mass. The report of the Mass last year can be found here. Several accounts of the life of Blessed Thaddeus can be found here, here and here. One of the insights we received from the sermon at today's Mass was the idea that Blessed Thaddeus, like St. Thomas Becket, was converted by the graces of the Episcopal office from a worldling who co-operated in the use of ecclesiastical authority for worldly conflicts, to one whose sanctity adorned his Episcopal state. Blessed Thaddeus died in the odour of Sanctity in the year 1492 and was beatified by Pope Leo XIII on 26th August, 1895.

The Cathedral of Ss. Mary and Anne is a stunning amalgam of early gothic revival architecture, its elegant traceries carry more than a hint of strawberry hill, and an austere modern gothic sanctuary extension. Details of the history and architecture of the Cathedral can be found here, here and here.

Blessed Thaddeus McCarthy Pilgrimage