From Life of St. Laurence O’Toole, Archbishop of Dublin (1128-1180), by M. L’Abbé Legris, English Translation, Dublin: Catholic Truth Society of Ireland, 1914; pp. 23-31.
Life of . . . .
St. Laurence O’Toole
Archbishop of Dublin (1128-1180)
by
M. L’Abbé Legris
English Translation
CHAPTER IV
ABBOT OF GLENDALOUGH (1153-1161)
Describing Laurence as he was at twenty-five years of age, his biographer writes: “He combined purity of life with high intellectual attainments. His learning added lustre to his sanctity.” He had just been raised to the priesthood, the ceremony of ordination being performed by his Bishop, Gilla-na-Naem II. When the death took place of the Abbot of Glendalough,1 Laurence mourned deeply for the loss of his spiritual father. What, indeed, did he not owe to him? The strengthening of his vocation, the happy, fruitful years spent in the cloister, the priestly character which was the crown and completion of the work of those years; for all these he was indebted to his departed father and guide.
It now became necessary to choose a sucessor to the late Abbot. It sometimes happened that the twofold office of Bishop and Abbot was filled by one person, but at Glendalough the office of Abbot was, for the country, of far greater importance. Glendalough, owing to the devotion manifested by the Irish people to St. Kevin, bcame one of the most famous shrines in Ireland, whilst the monastery, from the very beginning, had ranked amongst the most important of the monastic foundations. In the life-time of the Sainted Founder several thousand religious could have been received at Glendalough. The Danish invaders 25 had not wholly despoiled the monastery of its lands, and these were, for a great number of the dependants, a source of much profit. Hence it was that the laity who took part in the Abbot’s election and whose suffrage gave them an easy victory over the clergy were accustomed always to choose for the vacant office a member of one of the noblest families, “in order to secure for the whole country powerful protectors.” It was but natural, then, that from the very beginning, the son of Maurice O’Toole, king of a neighbouring powerful tribe, should be singled out for election. His brethren in religion bore testimony to the purity of his life, to his virtue, already, at that early age, so mature, and to the ardent zeal for religion, by which he was animated. Accordingly, by the unanimous voice of the electors our Saint was chosen Abbot.
Ever accustomed to commit himself to the guidance of Divine Providence, Laurence could not but recognise in this unanimity a manifestation of God’s will in his regard which he dared not oppose. He accepted the office, not without apprehension. During the years spent in the religious live he had gained experience which enabled him now to foresee the difficulties which would arise.
First of all, to his direction, his authority, would his brethren in religion always submit? Might it not happen that some amongst them who, with a laudable eagerness had joined with the laity in electing him, would be tempted to yield to him but forced obedience, or even to oppose him by underhand resistance, and thus to introduce into the monastery disunion and the spirit of mischief. In the eyes of religious, the most eminent virtue, the most prudent direction, cannot supply for the want of that authority conferred by age and long experience in the direction of souls. 26 Moreover, if the very first promptings of a rebellious spirit are not crushed by the power of faith, then amongst religious the evil spreads rapidly owing to their close daily intercourse with one another, and the inevitable resultant contradictions.
To what cause must this opposition be attributed in the present instance? Was it occasioned by the Abbot’s sternness, his severity in ruling, or the jealousy of some among his subjects? Laurence was not ignorant of the murmurings against his authority, the ill-will felt towards him; he had to bear with underhand hostility, with the spreading abroad of complaints against him. So serious were the dissensions in the monastery that even as late as the time when the Canon of Eu wrote, the remembrance of them still survived.
A young Abbot who allowed his zeal to outstrip his discretion would have been led into enforcing his authority still more sternly, would have used still greater severity in dealing with all faults against monastic discipline; Laurence, on the contrary, laboured by the sweetness of his charity to win the hearts of those erring brethren, and he succeeded. He closed his ears to their murmurings; he feigned ignorance of their opposition, their secret intrigues. By his patience, his self-denial, his unalterable kindness, he triumphed over these perverse spirits.
But now the Saint’s attention was claimed by evils of another kind existing outside the monastery which caused him deep anxiety. Much distress, occasioned by great scarcity of food, prevailed amongst the people. In those parts where the extent of the pasture lands left but little space for the growing of corn, a single bad season sufficed to cause famine throughout a large stretch of country. Laurence’s heart was deeply moved by the suffering of his people. All the resources of the monastery were requisitioned for their assistance. 27 By nature a lover of the poor, his compassion for them was inexhaustible. When they sought the monastery he received them with kindness, and none went away unrelieved.
As if the measure of their misfortunes had not been filled by the failure of their crops, these poor people had to suffer still more, owing to the insecure state of the country and the depredations of thieves. The wooded mountains of Wicklow afforded safe hiding-places for gangs of robbers who, descending suddenly from their mountain lairs, swooped down upon defenceless travellers and lonely dwellings, in each case despoiling their victims of all that they possessed. Amongst these marauders were to be found the degenerate scions of noble houses, and even on one instance a member of a royal house was one of the number. In illustration of their brutality the Canon of Eu relates two facts. It would appear that the band of which the prince was the leader had some special animosity to Laurence’s people, for more than all others these suffered from their assaults, sometimes being attacked openly, at others falling into snares set for them by the enemy. One day as they were carrying from a neighbouring place corn and honey for the relief of the starving people, the prince and his band suddenly fell upon them, furiously assaulting the laity, stripping the clergy and insulting the women.
One can imagine the overwhelming sorrow which this news occasioned Laurence. To assemble his friends and his followers and send them in pursuit of the robbers and their leader was, no doubt, the course of action those around him expected he would take. But all resort to force, even in a lawful cause, was repugnant to the Saint. He preferred to leave to God the punishment of the guilty. 248 Going to the church he remained there long hours in continuous prayer and fasting that God might deliver his people from these bandits. The answer to his prayers was not long delayed. Three days after the occurrence the prince fell into the hands of some armed men; but being of royal blood they did not dare to put him to death without the consent of the King. As some measure of satisfaction they put out his eyes and then set him at liberty. The unhappy prince did not long survive the terrible punishment.
But even now peace was not restored to Glendalough. Other robber-bands continued to infest the country, and these seemed to work even greater havoc and desolation. Three of these bands, each led by a different leader, used, in turn, to visit the neighbourhood, attacking everyone, laity and religious alike. People no longer dared to travel, save in bands, and accompanied by priests, who, in the hope of ensuring the safety of the travellers, carried the Blessed Sacrament suspended from their necks in a small bag. But nothing could restrain the savage lawlessness of the bandits. One day, as they lay in ambush in the thickets bordering the road made by St. Kevin, they became aware of a large body of travellers advancing towards them, accompanied by four priests carrying the Blessed Sacrament in procession. Suddenly, rushing out from their hiding-place, they flung themselves on the priests, tore the Blessed Sacrament from them, and first chewing the Sacred Host, they then trampled It under foot. They next attacked the travellers, beat them unmercifully and left them half-dead upon the road.
Laurence’s grief reached its climax at the news of this fresh crime. He, whom people called the Father of his country,2 mourned bitterly his powerlessness to 29 protect them from such terrible evils which in his sorrow, he attributed to his own sins. On this occasion, also, he refused to avail himself for his people’s protecton of the large forces which by right of his rank as Abbot and the nobility of his family he could have summoned to his assistance. Prayer was his supreme refuge. Calling his monks together, he spent an entire day in fasting and uninterrupted supplication to Heaven for the deliverance of his people. His prayer was heard. Scarcely a week had elapsed when the robber chiefs were taken prisoner by the King’s officers who had at last interfered on the persecuted people’s behalf. Two of the criminals were hanged by the roadside at the very spot where they had committed their sacrilegious crime.
Glendalough itself was the scene of the execution of the third. Thither he was brought, and on the side of a hill which dominated the whole country he was suspended from a gibbet within sight of the people as they passed to the church that all might know of the punishment inflicted by Divine Justice on him who had committed such awful sacrilege.
Four years had passed thus, four years of sorrow and tribulaton, during which Laurence knew no rest. But now, harmony once more restored within the monastery and peace reigning without, the Saint applied himself to the task of relieving the misery wrought amongst the people during those years of suffering. Famine and pillage, so long endured, had reduced them to the lowest depths of poverty, and Laurence was obliged to continue affording them relief. He did so with boundless liberality, multiplying his alms, and dispensing in works of mercy all the means at his disposal. His father, for greater security, had placed all his wealth in the keeping of the monastery, and when their own resources, large as they were, became 30 exhausted, the Saint did not hesitate to draw from it for the relief of the poor. His compassion was not satisfied with merely relieving the bodily wants of the sufferers. He was still more deeply touched by the spiritual poverty of these people who, having no place of worship, were consequently deprived of the supernatural aids ensured by the presence of the priest and the celebration of the offices of the Church. Hence, whilst distributing relief to the communities adjacent to or dependent on the monastery, at the same time he took care to provide for the erection of churches in their midst.
Henceforth, as his biographer remarks, it would seem that charity was, indeed, St. Laurence’s predominant virtue. As the simplicity which he observed amongst his religious, in all respects living as one of them,3 had restored to him the allegiance of those subjects who, for a short time, had proved rebellious, so now this charity, so quickly excited by suffering of any kind, won for him the hearts of all who came in contact with him. Thus it was that on the death of Bishop Gilda, he was unanimously chosen to fill the vacant See (1157).
Although it seems that Laurence had then reached the canonical age, yet he resisted the pressing entreaties of both laity and religious, and refused to accept the episcopal dignity, alleging, in excuse, his youth and inexperience. To one so deeply impressed with the gravity of his obligations, it must indeed have seemed impossible that he could discharge the duties of both offices. The life of an Abbot, a life of silence, of recollection, of prayer, of study, was passed entirely within the shadow of the cloister. The monastery gates, closed against worldly distractions, were only opened for the dispensing of alms. On the other hand, the care of his flock absorbs the Bishop’s whole thoughts, occupies 31 all his time, never is he free from it, his every act is inspired by it; by his activity in his diocese can his zeal be measured. True, many of these Abbot-bishops, powerless to maintain between the nobles a peace, at all times precarious, powerless to enforce respect for the laws of the Church, discouraged by their failure, remained shut up in their monasteries, confining themselves to the duties of their office as Abbots. It was this supineness which gave cause for the reproach addressed to them by the English clergy.4
The conception formed by St. Laurence of the responsibilities attaching to the episcopal office was too exalted to permit of him ever resigning himself to such forced inaction. As Bishop he would, at any cost, fulfil his obligations. He preferred, therefore, to remain simply Abbot of Glendalough. For some years longer he continued to lead that same life of holiness and charity which has from the beginning excited our admiration. But the time came at last when in the full maturity of his manhood he was chosen by God to fill one of the principal Sees in Ireland.5
1 The Four Masters record the death in 1153 of Dunlarg ua Cathail, Abbot of Glendalough. On the other hand, we know that this See was then filled by Gilla-na-Naem, who was present at the Synod of Kells in 1152. We cannot, therefore, here accept the account in the life (c. v.), according to which Laurence’s predecessor was at once Bishop and Abbot; at the same time the death of Gilla-na-Naem II. is fixed four years later, in 1157.
2 St. Bernard, speaking of St. Malachi, says, Diceres natum patriae.
3 “Cum grege quasi unus de grege., ” — Jean d’Abbeville, c. 3.
4 “Hujus itaque terrae praelati, inter ecclesiarum septa de antiqua consuetudine se continentes, contemplationi solum fere simper indulgent. Unde accidit ut nec verbum Domini populo praedicent, nec scelera eorum eis annuntient, nec in grege commisso vel extirpent vitia, vel inserant virtutes.” — Giraldus Cambrensis, Topog. Hibern., dist. iii., c. xxviii.
5 Modern biographers give five years as the term of his office as Abbot of Glendalough, but he held it for a longer time. Having related the tribulations of his first four years as Abbot, and his refusal of the Bishopric of Glendalough, the Canon of Eu continues, Procedente namque non modico tempore.