The Rosary of Ireland

I have come across many items in the Victorian religious press written on the theme of Ireland and the Rosary, but the piece below, published in Australia's Catholic Freeman's Journal, struck me as unusual in a number of ways. 'The Rosary of Ireland' applies the traditional division of Joyous, Sorrowful and Glorious Mysteries to the history of this country and employs many of the popular tropes of the National Revival. Ireland of the joyous mysteries is romantically portrayed as an island set in a silver sea, filled with fair maidens and valiant warriors, which embraces Saint Patrick and its Christian destiny. The mystic isle is then transformed into the insula sanctorum, home of Patrick, Columba and Brendan and the 'countless thousands more' who contribute to the golden age of the saints. It is interesting to see a mention of the angel Victor, described in a footnote as 'the Guardian Angel of Ireland'. The sorrowful mysteries employ familiar tropes of the Penal era - the Mass Rock, the struggle to maintain faith and nationhood and exile - but it was not until I reached the glorious mysteries that I realized I was not reading something written in the nineteenth century at all. For the glorious mysteries relate to the achievement of Irish independence, and it was only at that point that I noted that The Rosary of Ireland had been published in 1938, one year after the promulgation of the Irish Constitution, article one of which declared that: 

The Irish nation hereby affirms its inalienable, indefeasible, and sovereign right to choose its own form of Government, to determine its relations with other nations, and to develop its life, political, economic and cultural, in accordance with its own genius and traditions. 

It is clear that our writer, M. Eugenie Hill, acknowledged the part played by the literary revival in Ireland taking her place among the nations. She makes more than one reference to 'Inisfail', a poetic name for Ireland, but perhaps more specifically a reference to the work of Aubrey de Vere (1814-1902):

 Published in 1862, Inisfail is the longest single poem by an Irish writer in English, a distinction which ought to grant it at least a portion of the critical attention which it currently lacks. Subtitled A Lyrical Chronicle of Ireland, it is composed of a sequence of one hundred and thirty-two lyric poems, each of which is a meditation upon an aspect of suffering and salvation. The sequence as a whole is structured around an historical narrative frame proposing continuities in Irish history from the time of the Cromwellian invasions to the end of the Penal Laws, with references to the events of the 1840s. 

Chris Morash, “The Little Black Rose Revisited: Church, Empire and National Destiny in the Writings of Aubrey de Vere.” The Canadian Journal of Irish Studies 20, no. 2 (1994): 45–52. 

De Vere's poems were frequently quoted by Victorian writers on the saints and the early medieval Irish church and it was in Inisfail that he wrote of 'the little black rose that would be red at last', which the writer of The Rosary of Ireland links with the brilliant Easter sun. Is this a reference to the Easter Rising of 1916 and perhaps by extension to the poet revolutionary, Joseph Mary Plunkett (1887-1916) and his poem I See His Blood upon the Rose? The Rosary of Ireland ends with another Irish revolutionary, Robert Emmett (1778-1803) and a reference to his speech from the dock where he declared 'when my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written.' 

So I think that these literary allusions distinguish  The Rosary of Ireland from the many other offerings found in the popular religious press on the theme of Ireland's relationship to the rosary. It was interesting too to see the survival of the ethos of the Victorian 'Celtic Revival' in a work published in the 1930s and I only wish I knew more of its author: 

THE ROSARY OF  IRELAND.

Joyous.

A land of joy and peace, laughter and song,
Famed for her ladies fair, and warriors strong.
Erin the brave, for glorious deeds renowned,
Is still, alas! by Pagan fetters bound.

But lo! a guardian watches o'er the land,
'Tis Victor, from the shining angel band;
The time is come at last to break the chain.
And for his chosen children, Heaven to gain.

The Angel Victor* speeds like lightning rays,
Bends o'er the sleeping Patrick, softly says,
'Come, holy youth, the Irish voices call,
Come with the Light of Faith, and lift the pall.'

And now for Erin dawns the wondrous day.
Nearer, and nearer still, with flashing ray,
A dazzling light appears, as from afar,
Glimmering and twinkling like the Morning Star.

'Who dares enkindle fire' the Druids cry,
'Before our sacred fire is lit must die.
Go! quench the light that now on Tara gleams,
 Or never shall we dim its shining beams.'

 Clothed in his Sacred Vestments, Patrick spoke,
And Erin from the sleep of death awoke,
The Druid idols from her now she spurns,
Then gladly to the Faith of Patrick turns.

Columba, Brendan, countless thousands more
Sail o'er the ocean far from Erin's shore,
With Cross in hand, and Patrick's flag unfurled,
Her Missioners go forth, to teach the world.

*Victor is the Guardian Angel of Ireland.
 
Sorrowful.

But Erin's star of joy is setting fast,
And bitter sorrow must be hers at last,
Since she has had the joy of happy years,
She now must share her Lord's deep woe and tears.

Ireland of Sorrow, like your Lord to be
Despised, derided, spat upon, as He,
Pierced to the Soul and garments dyed bright red,
Holding the Cross through centuries of dread.

Deep as the sea, as Mary's sorrows were,
Dolorous Ireland, in her grief you share,
Faithful till death, and setting death at nought,
Guarding the Priceless Pearl by Patrick brought.

And as a light in darkness shines more bright
The Faith of Ireland shone through darkest night.
Tho' trodden underfoot by ruthless foes,
More gloriously with deeper lustre glows.

A vivid redness floods the evening sky,
As flames from burning churches mount on high,
And bells give forth a harsh and clarion call,
When lofty towers and noble spires fall.

The shamrock shows a deeply crimson stain,
Where round the Mass Rock Priests and people slain,
And bowed in grief, as Erin's thousands fell,
Unconquered still, she braves the gates of hell.

Scattered afar the Children of the Gael,
Exiled and banished from their Innisfail,
They plant the Cross of Christ in foreign climes,
And thro' these exiled ones, the Mass bell chimes.

Glorious.

But Erin's long and dreadful woe is past.
The sun burst's rising in the East at last,
And spite of centuries of pain and loss,
She stands Victorious beneath the Cross.

Hail! valiant Eire, bravest of the brave.
Her exiled Children call across the wave,
The 'small black rose' *puts on its crimson bloom,
The brilliant Easter sun dispels the gloom.

Then silvery clear ring out the joyous bells,
Victory and peace their happy message tells,
Erin among the nations takes her place,
A noble nation and a noble race.

Hail glorious Eire, let us joy with you;
To God and Patrick may you e'er be true
Thro' all the ages that are still to be
May you maintain your spotless purity.

The sin of heresy will ne'er defile
The peerless Faith you hold, dear Emerald isle,
You who for centuries have been appointed
The Cradle and the School of God's Anointed.

The glorious band of patriots we hail
Who gave their lives for you, sweet Innisfail,
Your freedom won, and now in letters gold,
May gentle Emmet's epitaph be told.
 

*'The Little Black Rose,' by Aubrey de Vere.  

M. EUGENIE HILL.

Catholic Freeman's Journal Thursday 19 May 1938, page 37 

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