Stephanie A. Mann's Blog, page 231

The Kenneth Clark Exhibit @ Tate Britain

From Brian Cole in The Wall Street Journal :

London

How daring! Tate Britain has devoted a large exhibition to someone who was not an artist—the first time it's done so. Equally surprising, the subject is a figure now mainly known for a television show.

The director and curators of the Tate Britain are to be congratulated for working to restore the importance of Kenneth Clark through an excellent exhibition and catalog, both titled "Kenneth Clark: Looking for Civilisation." Beautifully installed in six rooms with more than 200 objects from Old Master to modern, most drawn from Clark's own collection, the exhibition traces Clark's life and chronicles his important role in British culture as patron, collector, art historian and broadcaster.
The show carefully and judiciously reminds us who he was, why he was so important to 20th-century England, and why he deserves to be remembered. They are brave to do so because to many of their peers in the museum and academic worlds, there can hardly be anyone more out of fashion. . . .
Why would Kenneth Clark be out of fashion? Cole explains:
Among the postmodern culturati, Clark has been ridiculed as an upper-class snob (although his entire career proves just the opposite) and mocked for espousing highly unfashionable ideas about truth, artistic genius, greatness—above all, for the peculiar idea that beauty is an important attribute of art. And in an era of multiculturalism his concept of Western Europe as a great civilization has been belittled.
More about the Tate Britain exhibit here. 
This exhibit has certainly brought Sir Kenneth Clark much media attention, as reviews and profiles were published when it opened in May. Of course, he has never really gone away, because of the popularity of that Civilisation series, as this profile from The Guardian attests:
Even now, says James Stourton [Clark's authorized biographer], thousands of DVDs of the series are still sold every year: "It has never died. It's like being on a magic carpet. It's an amazing grand tour. Today, the presentation gets in the way a bit. He's wearing funny clothes, and has a funny voice. You have to get beyond the Burberry coats and the manner and listen to the words." Clark was by now beginning to fall out of sympathy with the art world; painting, he thought, had not been in such a bad state since the death of Giotto. But, no matter. Amazingly, it was for these films that he would be remembered, his passion for art and all its possibilities somehow having transmitted itself to a rapt nation. The clipped vowels and the awkward body language didn't bother the public (even in 1969 he would have sounded stiff, for this, after all, was the year Monty Python made their TV debut) because, as Stourton puts it, "he owned his material". At the Tate show, visitors will be able to see this ownership for themselves thanks to several carefully positioned screens – and some will doubtless ponder if any presenter now, relying as he or she inevitably will on a team of researchers, will ever be able to match its undoubted authority.
What Stourton describes as distractions now I find essential to the series. It was "A Personal View" so the person, Sir Kenneth Clark had to be himself--he did not have to look like a television personality; he had to have ideas and views to present. I like the static camera and the slow pans from Clark to the background and the great close ups of the artwork, so steady and patient--the camera is giving me a chance to see what Clark sees, to learn how to look at the art, see the beauty, and appreciate the civilization that created it.
The BBC is going to "remake" the series with another art critic who will have his or her own "Personal View"--I doubt the critic would dare have such a "conservative" view of civilization or even to concentrate on western civilization. It will have to be multi-cultural and the pace will have to be fast, with quick cuts and angles. The presenter will have to be photogenic with perfect teeth (Sir Kenneth's are horrible, one can tell). I can't imagine a remake of Kenneth Clark's Civilisation: A Personal View that could replace it in my library of books, DVDs, or memories. As Clark says at the end of the series, I may be hopeful about the new version, but not joyous.

St. Thomas More Faces Death: July 6, 1535

From The Life of Sir Thomas More, by William Roper, his son in law (included in the prayer book from CTS at left):

And so upon the next morning, being Tuesday, St. Thomas’ even, and the Octave of St. Peter in the year of our Lord God 1537, according as he in his letter the day before had wished, early in the morning came to him Sir Thomas Pope, his singular friend, on message from the King and his Council, that he should before nine of the clock in the same morning suffer death, and that therefore forthwith he should prepare himself thereto. “Mr. Pope,” saith he, “for your good tidings I most heartily thank you. I have been always bounden much to the King’s Highness for the benefits and honours which he hath still from time to time most bountifully heaped upon me, and yet more bounded I am to his Grace for putting me into this place, where I have had convenient time and space to have remembrance of my end, and so help me God most of all, Mr. Pope, am I bound to his Highness, that it pleased him so shortly to rid me of the miseries of this wretched world. And therefore will I not fail most earnestly to pray for his Grace both here, and also in another world.” ‑ “The King’s pleasure is further,” quoth Mr. Pope, “that at your execution you shall not use many words.” ‑ “Mr. Pope” (quoth he), “you do well that you give me warning of his Grace’s pleasure. For otherwise had I purposed at that time somewhat to have spoken, but of no matter wherewith his Grace, or any other should have had cause to be offended. Nevertheless whatsoever I intend I am ready obediently to conform myself to his Grace’s commandment. And I beseech you, good Mr. Pope, to be a mean unto his Highness, that my daughter Margaret may be present at my burial.” ‑ “The King is well contented already” (quoth Mr. Pope) “that your wife, children, and other friends shall have free liberty to be present thereat.” ‑ “O how much beholden,” then said Sir Thomas More, “am I to his Grace, that unto my poor burial vouchsafeth to have so gracious consideration.” Wherewithal Mr. Pope taking his leave of him could not refrain from weeping, which Sir Thomas More perceiving, comforted him in this wise, “Quiet yourself, good Mr. Pope, and be not discomforted. For I trust that we shall once in heaven see each other full merrily, where we shall be sure to live and love together in joyful bliss eternally.”

Upon whose departure Sir Thomas More, as one that had been invited to a solemn feast, changed himself into his best apparel; which Mr. Lieutenant espying, advised him to put it off, saying, that he that should have it was but a worthless fellow. “What Mr. Lieutenant” (quoth he), “shall I account him a worthless fellow, that will do me this day so singular a benefit? Nay, I assure you, were it cloth of gold I would account it well bestowed on him, as St. Cyprian did, who gave his executioner thirty pieces of gold.” And albeit at length, through Mr. Lieutenant’s persuasions, he altered his apparel, yet, after the example of that holy martyr St. Cyprian, did he of that little money that was left him, send one angel of gold to his executioner. And so was he brought by Mr. Lieutenant out of the Tower, and from thence led towards the place of execution, where going up the scaffold, which was so weak that it was ready to fall, he said to Mr. Lieutenant, “I pray you, I pray you, Mr. Lieutenant, see me safe up, and for my coming down let me shift for myself.” Then desired he all the people thereabouts to pray for him, and to bear witness with him, that he should then suffer death in and for the faith of the holy Catholic Church, which done he kneeled down, and after his prayers said, he turned to the executioner, and with a cheerful countenance spake unto him. “Pluck up thy spirits, man, and be not afraid to do thine office, my neck is very short. Take heed therefore thou shoot not awry for saving thine honesty.” So passed Sir Thomas More out of this world to God upon the very same day in which himself had most desired.

Sir Thomas Pope was the founder of Trinity College at the University of Oxford. Sir Thomas Audley was his patron and Pope benefited greatly from his service at the Court of Augmentations, dividing up the goods of the suppressed monasteries. He founded Trinity on the remains of Durham College, founded in 1268 for the education of Benedictine monks from that northern abbey :

Trinity College was founded by Sir Thomas Pope in 1555. A devout catholic with no surviving children, Thomas Pope saw the Foundation of an Oxford college as a means of ensuring that he and his family would always be remembered in the prayers and masses of its members. He came from a family of small landowners in Oxfordshire, trained as a lawyer, and rose rapidly to prominence under Henry VIII. As Treasurer of the Court of Augmentations he handled the estates of the monasteries dissolved at the Reformation, and amassed a considerable personal fortune. Pope was a discreet and trusted privy counsellor of Mary Tudor, and it was from Mary and Philip that he received Letters Patent and royal approval for his new foundation. Pope died in 1559. Although his religious ideals were never fully realised - Elizabeth I had succeeded her sister and England returned to the Protestant faith - nonetheless the memory of his name, like his college, has endured the fluctuating fortunes of over 400 years. His wife, Lady Elizabeth Pope, was a particularly influential figure in Trinity's early years. Pope's foundation was for a President, twelve Fellows and twelve scholars, all supported by the income from his generous endowment of lands, and for up to twenty undergraduates. The Fellows, all men, were required to take Holy Orders and remain unmarried. The College Statutes set out rules for a simple monastic life of religious observance and study. The Garden was an informal grove of trees, mainly elms, amongst which the members of the College could walk and meditate.

Perhaps a jest that St. Thomas More would enjoy: a Pope came to tell More that he would be beheaded that day for defending the Pope as head of the Catholic Church.

St. Thomas More to His Daughter Meg

Beyond his martyrdom and his status as a patron saint, Thomas More provides us with such examples of humanity that tear the veil between us and the past. On July 5, 1535, the day before his execution, he wrote to his daughter Margaret, commenting on their last meeting as he left Westminster Hall for the Tower of London:

Our Lord bless you good daughter and your good husband and your little boy and all yours and all my children and all my godchildren and all our friends. Recommend me when you may to my good daughter Cecily whom I beseech our Lord to comfort, and I send her my blessing and to all her children and pray her to pray for me. I send her an handkercher and God comfort my good son her husband. My good daughter Daunce hath the picture in parchment that you delivered me from my Lady Conyers, her name is on the back side. Shew her that I heartily pray her that you may send it in my name to her again for a token from me to pray for me.

I like special well Dorothy Colly, I pray you be good unto her. I would wit whether this be she that you wrote me of. If not, I pray you be good to the other as you may in her affliction, and to my good daughter Joan Aleyn to give her I pray you some kind answer, for she sued hither to me this day to pray you be good to her. 

I cumber you, good Margaret, much, but I would be sorry, if it should be any longer than tomorrow, for it is Saint Thomas' Even and the Octave of Saint Peter and therefore tomorrow long I to go to God, it were a day very meet and convenient for me. I never liked your manner to­ward me better than when you kissed me last for I love when daughterly love and dear charity hath not leisure to look to worldly courtesy. 

Fare well my dear child and pray for me, and I shall for you and all your friends that we may merrily meet in heaven. I thank you for your great cost.

I send now unto my good daughter Clement her algorism stone and I send her and my good son and all hers God's blessing and mine.

I pray you at time convenient recommend me to my good son John More. I liked well his natural fashion. Our Lord bless him and his good wife my loving daughter, to whom I pray him be good, as he hath great cause, and that if the land of mine come to his hand, he break not my will concerning his sister Daunce. And our Lord bless Thomas and Austin and all that they shall have. 

He enclosed his hair shirt with this letter, written in charcoal. June 29 was, at that time, the Feast of St. Peter (now the Feast of St. Peter and St. Paul) and July 7, the Feast of the Translation of St. Thomas a Becket's relics! Thus, St. Thomas More remembered two martyrs before he died--and they were two martyrs with tremendous significance for the English Reformation era. St. Peter because Henry VIII was tearing England away from the successor of St. Peter as Pope, and had ended the long English tradition of St. Peter's Pence (in 1533/4); St. Thomas a Becket because Henry VIII would destroy (in 1538) the very shrine to which St. Thomas a Becket's relics were translated in 1220. 

Charles Carroll and Independence Day

On the Acton Institute blog, Noah Barger reminds us of Charles Carroll of Carrollton:

This weekend marks another celebration of America’s birthday of Independence from our colonial rulers. It is typical to praise the founding fathers for what they did in 1776 and the subsequent years to lay down the foundation for this country. Very often, when people talk about the founding fathers they are referring to Washington, Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, or one of the many currently well-known statesmen of the Revolution. This year though, when people sing the praises of the Founding Fathers, I would urge them to think of one more man, Charles Carroll of Carrollton.

All the men that joined together to sign to the Declaration of Independence took a great risk in putting their name on that document. However, not many took as a great a risk as Charles Carroll, a representative from Maryland at the Second Continental Congress. Carroll’s prominence was well known throughout the colonies, and he was considered to be the wealthiest colonist at the time of the signing, as noted by Samuel Gregg is his book Tea Party Catholic. With that wealth brought distinction for his ideals, stemming from his education in Catholic schools and his Catholic faith. By signing the Declaration he risked not only his life, but his entire family fortune as well.
Here's more background on Samuel Gregg's comments about Charles Carroll in Tea Party Catholic ( I have not read the book). Note that Charles Carroll was the last surviving signer of the Declaration. He died in 1832 at the age of 95. Happy Independence Day! My husband and I are getting out of the "big" city to attend Mass and go to a small town Independence Day parade! God bless the United States of America!

From the Middle Ages to the Renaissance, Thomas Cahill Strikes Again!

Years ago I read Thomas Cahill's How the Irish Saved Civilization (which should probably be titled "How the Irish Saved Western Civilization") and several years ago I toted Mysteries of the Middle Ages with me on a trip to Paris--it was fun to read about Heloise and Abelard in situ, especially one day while seated in Au Sauvignon, hearing two American ex pats discussing the end of one of their love affairs. I almost wanted to tell them that love affairs can end much more badly! Cahill's animus toward St. Bernard of Clairvaux and his relentless hatred of any pope or bishop, any member of the Church's hierarchy, wore on me after awhile. As an antidote, I went to the Musee de Cluny and reveled in some of the great religious art of the medieval era. My journal for that visit includes the note that Cahill really didn't understand the Middle Ages, because he didn't understand the Church or the Catholic faith--and his hermeneutic of understanding the past by how much it conforms to current values, specifically his values, kept him from entering in to the past and trying to comprehend it.
Sounds like that's the issue with his latest book in the "Hinges of History" series, according to Michael B. Kelly in The Catholic World Report:
Since publishing the amusing How the Irish Saved Civilization in 1995, best-selling author Thomas Cahill has added five further volumes to his history of the West, the Hinges of History series. The latest volume, Heretics and Heroes: How Renaissance Artists and Reformation Priests Changed Our World, contains Cahill’s take on the great European intellectual, cultural, and religious movements of the period now commonly referred to by historians as “early modern”. According to the author, this series aims to “retell the story of the Western world as the story of the great gift-givers, those who entrusted to our keeping one or another of the singular treasures that make up the patrimony of the West.” Such “gift-givers” left behind “a world more varied and complex, more awesome and delightful, more beautiful and strong” than the one they had entered. . . .

But over-simplifications and reliance upon older scholarship aside, the main problem with the book is its neglect of its advertised task, i.e., explaining “How Renaissance Artists and Reformation Priests Changed Our World.” Heretics and Heroes, at length, is essentially a search through history for characters presenting features that appear “modern” to the searcher. He then provides lively biographical vignettes that emphasize these features, and (as it were) announces—“Voila, modernity in the Renaissance (or Reformation).”

But simply identifying new trends and developments in art and religion in the early modern period is not the same as explaining how modernity came to be. Emblematic for the whole work may be Cahill’s account of the Peace of Augsburg in 1555, when it was momentously resolved that each prince in the Empire could decide his own domain’s religion (cujus regio, ejus religio)—Cahill snappily explains, “And so it became” (262). And apparently that is that. Readers wishing some sustained argument about the gestation of the modern world will be disappointed.

In the end, Heretics and Heroes is not an attempt to understand, or explain, the past from the perspective of the people of the past. It is a history of progress towards us, or, rather, towards those of us who are truly modern, in the right way. It is a peculiar kind of hagiographical enterprise—the scouring of history to find the people that are most like us. In fact, in his final chapter Cahill apologizes that, notwithstanding his good intentions, he has produced so many pages about “know-it-alls . . . prescribers and proscribers,” the “excluders” and limiters, “who want their circle—the circle of the saved—to be exclusive, as small and as (uncomfortably) intimate as possible.”

Read the rest here. Can you imagine what Cahill will do when he discusses the French Revolution? Surely the Enlightenment and the "Age of Revolution" will be the next "Hinge of History"!

St. Robert Southwell in StAR

I have not received my comp copy yet, but the July/August 2014 issue of the St. Austin Review (StAR), with my poem about William Byrd and St. Robert Southwell is out!  You may find the Table of Contents here and the sample article, by Gary M. Bouchard of Saint Anselm College, here, "A Powerful Silence: The Enduring Legacy of Robert Southwell".

Bouchard writes about why Southwell has not received his due in the history of English literature, with only "The Burning Babe" being included in anthologies. He cites the work of Allison Shell, Scott Pilarz, SJ, Anne R. Sweeney, and John Klause to demonstrate that Southwell is beginning to receive his due, both for the quality of his work and for the influence he had on numerous poets. Bouchard opines that "Southwell's life and writings instructed Alabaster, provoked Spenser, prompted Herbert, haunted Donne, inspired Crashaw and consoled Hopkins" (p. 16). That's William Alabaster, Edmund Spenser, George Herbert, John Donne, Richard Crashaw, and Gerard Manley Hopkins. StAR devoted the September/October 2013 issue to Richard Crashaw, who was a Catholic convert and poet in exile during the reign of Charles I.

UPDATE: My copy came in today's mail! Looking forward to seeing my poem in print and reading the rest of the articles about this great poet and martyr.

Book Review: Father Ray Ryland's Memoir

Father Ray Ryland died on March 20th this year after a fall on the steps on his way to Perpetual Adoration before the Blessed Sacrament. The Coming Home network honored him, their chaplain, in their June newsletter and offered his memoir as a premium for a donation to their work helping Protestant clergy and their families on their "Journey Home" to Rome.

As the publisher, Emmaus Road, describes the memoir:

A fascinating autobiography in the spirit of Bl. John Henry Newman, Drawn from Shadows Into Truth: A Memoir is the intriguing story of how a married minister in the Disciples of Christ eventually came to be an ordained priest in the Catholic Church. This captivating narrative of Father Ryland’s quest for Jesus Christ and the One Church He founded is a spiritual and intellectual adventure—from a poor Oklahoma farm boy to a naval officer to a Protestant minister to a Harvard lawyer to a married Catholic priest with five children, twenty-two grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Pick it up, and you’ll be unable to put it down!

Father Ryland's conversion and his memoir were both obviously inspired by Blessed John Henry Newman--the title of the latter confirms this influence, as it echoes the motto carved on Newman's gravestone: Ex umbris et imaginibus in veritatem. Ryland even follows Newman's path from Bible Christianity (Disciples of Christ in Ryland's childhood), to personal conversion, to rationalism (and in Ryland's case Unitarianism), to the via media of Anglo-Catholicism, to the one true fold of Christ, the Catholic Church. Father Ryland provides details about his childhood religion in Crescent, Oklahoma, his college days, his service in the Navy during World War II, including his consistent, though undecided, call to ministry. He finally does, however, decide to become a minister, but soon realizes that since he does not believe that Jesus Christ is God, his ministry would be a utilitarian effort to help people understand Jesus's teachings and way of life. With his wife Ruth, Father Ryland continues to study theology and grow in his understanding of Jesus and His Church. He was a very well educated man.

For awhile, both Ryland and his wife are comfortable as Anglo-Catholics in the Episcopal Church, although his High Church liturgical practices are not always acceptable to his parishioners. When they recognize, like Newman, that the Church of England/the Episcopal Church is not the true Church founded by Jesus, they do explore Eastern Orthodoxy. Ryland carefully explains why they could not find their religious home there and how they finally came to the Catholic Church while serving the Episcopalian Church in Oklahoma, where he was born and raised. Becoming Catholic meant the loss of friends, estrangement from family, and being without a job or livelihood. Catholic friends help with the latter and begin to replace the former, but the family relationships take longer to heal.

Father Ray explains how he begins his new life as a Catholic. He was ordained as a Permanent Deacon and practiced law. Then he became the second priest ordained under the Pastoral Provision established by St. John Paul II, the antecedent in a way to the Anglican Ordinariate established by Pope Benedict XVI. His life story really ends there as he describes his teaching career at the University of San Diego and then at Franciscan University in Steubenville, Ohio and his work with the Coming Home Network. In the last seven chapters of the book, Father Ryland explores several themes from his life: the authority of Jesus and His Church, an explanation of the doctrine that there is no salvation outside the Catholic Church, and the essential discipline of priestly celibacy among them.

It is a very readable book. It did need another set of eyes as some errors slipped by the proofreader and editor. Father Ian Ker's name, for example, is misspelled on the back cover (Kerr). The few typos are minor errors in view of Father Ryland's great intellectual gifts to the Church and his magnificent example of faithfulness to the Truth.

A Pissarro in Oklahoma, aka "Meyer 13" at the Jeu de Paume

When I reviewed The Monuments Men, I mentioned the Cate Blanchett character, based on the real life Frenchwoman, Rose Valland who worked at the Jeu de Paume and recorded the art stolen from Jewish families like the Rothschilds, the Rosenbergs, and the Meyers, among others. Her work has continued significance today, as the record she made of stolen art proves who really owns it and should possess it. For example, she inventoried the works stolen from Raoul Meyer, one of which is at the center of his family's dispute with the University of Oklahoma. From The Wall Street Journal, Ronald S. Lauder writes:

Meanwhile, Leone Meyer, daughter of Raoul Meyer, a Jewish businessman in Paris during the Nazi occupation, is suing the University of Oklahoma in the hope of recovering "Shepherdess Bringing in Sheep," an 1886 work by French impressionist Camille Pissarro that was stolen from her father's private collection by the Nazis. Over the years the Pissarro had several owners and traveled to Switzerland and New York before arriving at the Fred Jones Jr. Museum of Art, which is owned by the University of Oklahoma. The school has refused to return the painting, citing a 1950s court ruling in Switzerland that denied the Meyer family's claim on grounds that there was a five-year window for such lawsuits. That the Nazis stole the painting is not in dispute.

Such refusals are not only immoral, they fly in the face of postwar agreements. The Nazi thefts from 1933-45 are the greatest displacement of artwork in human history. FDR and Churchill recognized the vast scope of the thefts early in World War II, and in 1943 the Allies declared their intention to invalidate all property transfers—even ones made to look legal—that were part of the Nazis' looting. Official Allied policy was that all governments should work to return stolen property to rightful owners.

After decades in which this issue was conveniently ignored, the U.S. State Department sponsored an international conference in Washington, D.C., in 1998 to resolve the many and complicated issues surrounding the repatriation of Nazi-looted art. The conference introduced 11 protocols, known as the Washington Principles. The U.S. and the 43 other countries that adopted the principles agreed to look for Nazi-looted art in their public art collections and to resolve restitution claims in a just and fair manner.

The Washington Principles amount to these two truths: Art museums and their collections should not be built with stolen property. Passion for art should not displace respect for justice. . . .

Refusing to return stolen art because of the passage of time—not yet 70 years since Auschwitz was liberated—deprives museums of any claim to moral high ground.

There have been museums that have demonstrated clear vision, such as the Cummer Museum of Art & Gardens in Jacksonville, Fla., which honored a claim by Ms. Saher involving art from the same collection that is the subject of her claim against the Norton Simon Museum.

Yet too many art museums in the U.S. and Europe seem to have forgotten a simple rule: There should be no impediments to responsible behavior. Above all, we in the art community should not perpetuate the crime against humanity committed by Hitler when he stole Jewish art collections and murdered their owners.

Raoul Meyer was not just any businessman in Paris--he was one of the owners of the Galeries Lafayette on Blvd. Haussmann. That great department store was taken over by the Vichy government and remained open during the Nazi occupation of Paris. One of the other owners survived the Buchenwald camp. Here is the record of the Pissarro; Rolland recorded it as "Meyer 13". I think the University of Oklahoma should return the painting to the family. What do you think?

July 1, 1616 and 1681: Two Martyrdoms at Tyburn

July 1, 1616: A martyrdom in London during James I's reign was an event with international implications--the Spanish ambassadors were quite active around this time in pursuing pardons or even exile (knowing the priest would very likely return).

Blessed Thomas Maxfield was born in Stafford gaol, about 1590, martyred at Tyburn, London, Monday, 1 July, 1616. He was one of the younger sons of William Macclesfield of Chesterton and Maer and Aston, Staffordshire (a firm recusant, condemned to death in 1587 for harbouring priests, one of whom was his brother Humphrey), and Ursula, daughter of Francis Roos, of Laxton, Nottinghamshire. William Macclesfield is said to have died in prison and is one of the prætermissi as William Maxfield; but, as his death occurred in 1608, this is doubtful. Thomas arrived at the English College at Douai on 16 march, 1602-3, but had to return to England 17 May, 1610, owing to ill health. In 1614 he went back to Douai, was ordained priest, and in the next year came to London. Within three months of landing he was arrested, and sent to the Gatehouse, Westminster. After about eight months' imprisonment, he tried to escape by a rope let down from the window in his cell, but was captured on reaching the ground. This was at midnight 14-15 June, 1616. For seventy hours he was placed in the stocks in a filthy dungeon at the Gatehouse, and was then on Monday night (17 June) removed to Newgate, where he was set amongst the worst criminals, two of whom he converted. On Wednesday, 26 June, he was brought to the bar at the Old Bailey, and the next day was condemned solely for being a priest, under 27 Eliz., c, 2. The Spanish ambassador* did his best to obtain a pardon, or at least a reprieve; but, finding his efforts unavailing, had solemn exposition of the Blessed Sacrament in his chapel during the martyr's last night on earth. The procession to Tyburn early on the following morning was joined by many devout Spaniards, who, in spite of insults and mockery, persisted in forming a guard of honour for the martyr. Tyburn-tree itself was found decorated with garlands, and the ground round about strewn with sweet herbs. The sheriff ordered the martyr to be cut down alive, but popular feeling was too strong, and the disembowelling did not take place till he was quite senseless.

Downside Abbey, the Tyburn Convent near Marble Arch, and Holy Trinity Catholic in Staffordshire each honor his relics. See this site for a picture of an altar in Holy Trinity depicting the martyr.

*The Spanish Ambassador at that time was Diego Sarmiento de Acuña, 1st Count of Gondomar, who had succeeded in obtaining the release of Luisa de Carvajal in 1614.

Glorious Martyr, St. Oliver,who willingly gave your life for your faith,help us also to be strong in faith.May we be loyal like you to the see of Peter.By your intercession and examplemay all hatred and bitternessbe banished from the hearts of Irish men and women.May the peace of Christ reign in our hearts,as it did in your heart,even at the moment of your death.Pray for us and for Ireland. Amen.    July 1, 1681: St. Oliver Plunkett, the Archbishop of Armagh in Ireland, was executed at Tyburn in London on July 1, 1681. He was the last priest to be executed there and the final victim of the "Popish Plot"--that fraudulent, perjured plot cooked up by the BBC's Worst Briton of the 17th Century: Titus Oates.
So in the Catholic dioceses of England and Wales AND Ireland, today is the memorial/feast of St. Oliver Plunkett, Archbishop of Armagh, victim of Stuart injustice during the Anti-Catholic madness of Oates' fake plot.

The Whigs in Parliament, opposed most of all to the succession of Charles II's Catholic brother, James the Duke of York, jumped at the opportunity to attack Catholics--and James--when Titus Oates fabricated the story of a great conspiracy. Charles II did not believe most of the elements of the plot Oates "revealed", especially when the perjurer implicated his own queen, Catherine of Braganza, and his brother.

Once Oates was able to compound English fear of Jesuits and Catholics with English fear of Irish Catholics, Plunkett was in grave danger. St. Oliver Plunkett was brought to London from Ireland and accused of conspiring to bring French soldiers and recruit members of his diocese to mount a rebellion against the King and Parliament. There was, of course, no evidence of these accusations and Plunkett could bring no witnesses to testify for him--they were in Ireland and not permitted to come to England. He had been tried before in Ireland--no double jeopardy applied here--and English authorities like Shaftesbury were convinced that no Irish jury (even if packed with Protestants) would convict him.

On the day of his execution he was able to give a long discourse, in which he re-presented the evidence that proved he was not involved in any conspiracy, and which concluded with forgiveness and prayers:

as one of the said deacons (to wit, holy Stephen) did pray for those who stoned him to death; so do I, for those who, with perjuries, spill my innocent blood; saying, as St. Stephen did, "O Lord! lay not this sin to them." I do heartily forgive them, and also the judges, who, by denying me sufficient time to bring my records and witnesses from Ireland, did expose my life to evident danger. I do also forgive all those, who had a hand, in bringing me from Ireland, to be tried here; where it was morally impossible for me to have a fair trial. I do finally forgive all who did concur, directly or indirectly, to take away my life; and I ask forgiveness of all those whom I ever offended by thought, word, or deed.

I beseech the All-powerful, that his Divine Majesty grant our king, queen, and the duke of York, and all the royal family, health, long life, and all prosperity in this world and in the next, everlasting felicity.

Now, that 1 have shewed sufficiently (as I think) how innocent I am of any plot or conspiracy: I would I were able, with the like truth, to clear myself of high crimes committed against the Divine Majesty's commandments, often transgressed by me, for which, I am sorry with all my heart; and if I should or could live a thousand years, I have a firm resolution, and a strong purpose, by your grace, O my God! never to offend you; and I beseech your Divine Majesty, by the merits of Christ, and by the intercession of his Blessed Mother, and all the holy angels and saints, to forgive me my sins, and to grant my soul eternal rest. Miserere mei Deus, etc. Parce anima, etc. In manus tuas, etc.

St. Oliver Plunkett was born in 1629 in Loughcrew, County Meath, Ireland of well-to-do parents and studied for the priesthood at the Irish College in Rome. While Oliver Cromwell was inflicting the "righteous judgement of God" on the Irish who had rebelled against English rule during Charles I's reign, Plunkett had been unable to return to serve his people as a priest after ordination in 1654. He therefore remained in Rome and taught theology. In 1669 he was appointed the Archbishop of Armagh and the Primate of All Ireland and finally returned to Ireland the next year. For a time, Charles II's Restoration leniency allowed Plunkett to accomplish many reforms and reorganizations in education and catechesis. As Archbishop, he confirmed thousands (48,000!) but in 1673, persecution of Catholics in England's colony forced him to go into hiding and close the schools. Arrested in connection with Oates' plot, he was imprisoned at Dublin Castle. He was canonized by Pope Paul VI in 1975 and in 1997 he was named the Patron Saint of Peace and Reconciliation in Ireland. His trial and execution were so manifestly unfair that even Shaftesbury realized things had gone too far--yet, with the Popish Plot's true conspirators, Oates and companions, finally being mistrusted and the whole matter winding down, Charles II did nothing to stop the execution of St. Oliver Plunkett. This site contains a wealth of information, including the prayers and readings for a Mass honoring his Feast.

When Pope Paul VI canonized the martyr, he began his remarks in Gaelic: Dia's muire Dhíbh, a chlann Phádraig! Céad mile fáilte rómhaibh! Tá Naomh nua againn inniu: Comharba Phádraig, Olibhéar Naofa Ploinéad. (God and Mary be with you, family of Saint Patrick! A hundred thousand welcomes! We have a new Saint today: the successor of Saint Patrick, Saint Oliver Plunkett). Today, Venerable Brothers and dear sons and daughters, the Church celebrates the highest expression of love-the supreme measure of Christian and pastoral charity. Today, the Church rejoices with a great joy, because the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd, is reflected and manifested in a new Saint. And this new Saint is Oliver Plunkett, Bishop and Martyr-Oliver Plunkett, successor of Saint Patrick in the See of Armagh-Oliver Plunkett , glory of Ireland and Saint, today and for ever, of the Church of God, Oliver Plunkett is for all-for the entire world-an authentic and outstanding example of the love of Christ. And on our part we bow down today to venerate his sacred relics, just as on former occasions we have personally knelt in prayer and admiration at this shrine in Drogheda.

A Novel of Talk and Ideology: "The Leaves are Falling"

This is the fourth book by Lucy Beckett I've read, all published by Ignatius Press (she has also written about Wagnerian opera and Wallace Stevens). Her Light of Christ: Writings in the Western Tradition is a tremendous overview of Western literature; I read it through and still refer to it as a reference. It's a really great accomplishment from a teacher and lover of literature. The Time Before You Die is her novel set in England from the Dissolution of the Monasteries to the death of Mary I and Reginald Cardinal Pole, the last Catholic Archbishop of Canterbury, and effectively delineates the religious changes through that era. A Postcard from the Volcano is in some ways the prequel to this novel, and although it is also often made up of conversation, Beckett creates relationships and personal conflicts throughout the novel. As the stories of the seven friends develop, they face the coming danger of the Nazi regime and of the Soviet system, setting up the conflict of World War II. It was also an effective exploration, this time of the period between World War I and World War II, with discussions of philosophy, music and the arts, politics and ideology.

Beckett continues her exploration of the two great destructive ideologies of the twentieth century in this novel, but less successfully in my opinion. While I know and grant that she is writing in a certain genre, a novel of ideas, I wanted more depth from at least one of her main characters. As I read the book I kept waiting for something to happen. Beckett delivers her ideas through long conversations and indirection. The centerpiece of the novel is the Massacre at Katyn, in which almost 22,000 Polish prisoners of war were executed by the Soviets, who blamed the Nazis. In the first part, the surviving son of a Jewish (though not religiously Jewish) family from Vilnius, which was in Poland when he lived there, is a refugee in England, working on a farm. He tells the landowner, his sponsor, that the Soviets killed the Polish officers, including his father, and of course, is not believed. Josef Halpern, son of Jacob Halpern, lives in England, marries and has a child. In the framing device of the novel, he asks the narrator to tell his story. He then asks the narrator to tell his father's story, as she imagines Jacob Halpern's last days as a prisoner of war before his execution at Katyn. The novel closes with the novelist's last visit to Joseph in a nursing home and his reported death.

Although religion and God are often mentioned in the conversations, neither of the main characters practices any faith or worships God in prayer or ritual. Josef and Jacob are cultural Jews, knowing their history and its traditions, but not incorporating them in their lives. Thus the discussions about the evils of Nazism, or Communism, or Zionism never transcend the philosophical or theoretical, because they are not answered by lives of faith and action. Josef's family life, for example, is described, not depicted or dramatized, in four pages, with the anodyne comment that he and his wife were "as happy as most married people are who care for each other and have a little more than enough money to live on"! There is little passion or life in the characters and that's where the novel fails, at least in the section about Josef. I think it is because his confrontations with evil are always reported from the past as memories, not as something we see happening to him.

In part two, as Josef's father struggles for survival in the Soviet prisoner of war camp, there is some greater love and passion, particularly when a rabbi comforts a Christian prisoner on his deathbed. It was the one moment of the novel that moved me, as the rabbi recites the Lord's Prayer and helps the dying man reconcile with God by the confession of his sins. That act of faith, witnessed by Jacob, experienced by the Catholic Radek Dobrowski, and mediated by the Rabbi Baruch Steinberg, is the one great transcendent moment of love and faith in the novel. Jacob, perhaps moved by this example, is then able to comfort the young Catholic Pole with him before their executions at Katyn, "They can kill us. They can't hurt us."

The Leaves are Falling needed more such moments to exalt the true dignity and freedom of the human person beyond discussions of political systems. I think historical fiction needs to be more than a vehicle for the expression of ideas or verisimilitude of historical setting, with details about shortages and rationing in post war Britain, or the endlessly cited example of Vilna or Vilnius being first in Poland and then in Lithuania. For all the human tragedy depicted in The Leaves are Falling, I was not involved in the life of Josef Halpern because he was not fleshed out as a person beyond being a character and vehicle for discussion of the past or even of the errors of the present. Jacob Halpern emerges more fully as a person, growing in awareness, coming closer to something great. He becomes the hero of his story; his son does not.

Disclosure: I received a .pdf review copy from Ignatius Press in exchange for my honest opinion and review of The Leaves are Falling.