The Life Story of an Old Rebel | Page 5

this time he visited many centres of Irishmen in Great Britain, and
administered the pledge of total abstinence from intoxicating drink to
many thousands of his fellow-countrymen. In London alone over
70,000 took the pledge. As in Ireland, this brought about a great social
revolution. The temperance movement certainly helped O'Connell's
Repeal agitation, which was in its full flood about this time.
My remembrance of Father Mathew was that of a man of portly figure,
rather under than above the middle height, with a handsome, pleasant
face. He had a fine powerful voice, which could be heard at the furthest
extremity of his gatherings, which often numbered several thousands.
As he gave out the words of the pledge to abstain, with the Divine
assistance, from all intoxicating liquors, he laid great emphasis on the
word "liquors," pronouncing the last syllable of the word with almost
exaggerated distinctness. After this he would go round the ring of those
kneeling to take the pledge, and put round the neck of each the ribbon
with the medal attached.
I ought to remember his visit to Liverpool, for I took the pledge from
him three times during his stay in the town.
My mother took the whole family, and, wherever he was--at St.
Patrick's, or in a great field on one side of Crown Street, or at St.

Anthony's--there she was with her family. She was a woman with the
strong Irish faith in the supernatural, and in the power of God and His
Church, that can "move mountains." A younger brother of mine had a
running in his foot which the doctors could not cure. She determined to
take Bernard to Father Mathew and get him to lay his hands on her boy.
At St. Patrick's, with her children kneeling around her, she asked the
good Father to touch her son. He, no doubt thinking it would be
presumptuous on his part to claim any supernatural gift, passed on
without complying with her request. Father Mathew's next gathering
was in the Crown Street fields. I was a boy of about nine years,
attending Copperas Hill schools. Mr. Connolly, who was in charge, was
a very good master, but there was nothing very Irish in his teaching.
Some idea of this may be formed when I mention that--though there
were not a dozen boys in the school who were not Irish or of Irish
extraction--the first map of Ireland I ever saw was on the back of one of
O'Connell's Repeal cards.
It was not until the Christian Brothers came, a few years afterwards,
that this was changed. I shall always be grateful to that noble body of
men, not only for the religious but for the national training they gave.
We had Brothers Thornton and Swan--the latter since the Superior of
the Order in Ireland.
Under them we not only had a good map of Ireland, but they taught us,
in our geography lessons, the correct Irish pronunciation of the names
of places, such as (spelling phonetically) "Carrawn Thooal," "Croogh
Phaudhrig," and similar words.
But our old master, Mr. Connolly, was a good man too, according to
his lights. Hearing of Father Mathew's visit, he asked how many of the
boys would go to Crown Street to "take the pledge"--their parents being
willing? Out of some 250 boys there were about a dozen who did not
hold up their hands.
It is unnecessary for me to say that my mother was there again with her
afflicted boy and the rest of her children, and again she pleaded in vain.
She was a courageous woman, with great force of character--and a

third time she went to Father Mathew's gathering. This was in St.
Anthony's chapel yard, and amongst the thousands there to hear him
and to take the pledge she awaited her turn. Again she besought him to
touch her boy's foot. He knew her again, and, deeply moved by her
importunity and great faith he, at length, to her great joy, put his hand
on my brother's foot and gave him his blessing. My mother's faith in
the power of God, through His minister, was rewarded, for the foot was
healed.
I had an aunt--my mother's sister--married to a good patriotic Irishman,
Hugh, or, as he was more generally called, Hughey, Roney, who kept a
public house in Crosbie Street. The street is now gone, but it stood on
part of what is now the goods station of the London & North Western
Railway. Nearly all in Crosbie Street were from the West of Ireland,
and, amongst them, there was scarcely anything but Irish spoken. I
have often thought since of the splendid opportunity let slip by
O'Connell and the Repealers in neglecting to revive, as they could so
easily have then done, so strong