79 Dominic Collins

(From Tanner’s Soc. Jesu Militans, p. 55) DOMINIC COLLINS, a man who displayed heroic courage both when serving in the armies of the kings of this world in France and Spain and when combating under the banner of the Cross in the Society of Jesus, was born at Youghal, of noble and illustrious parents, who were owners of a townland called Labranche. He was brought up very piously by his parents. When he reached manhood, he went to France, where, urged on by the generous ardour of youth, he resolved to adopt the profession of arms ; induced to do so also by the thought that in the army of the Most Christian King he would be fighting rather for Christ than for the King, for France was at this time in the flames of civil war, which heresy, always productive of sedition, had enkindled. Dominic served for five years against these sectaries who were bold enough to take up arms against the King and religion, and though only twenty-two years of age, he was much commended for his bravery and had the command of a company. When that war came to an end, he went in search of other service, and passed into Spain, where he was taken into the Catholic army of King Philip, and given a position suited to his birth and merits. He spent eight years in the important office of captain of marines, in a time that might be called peaceful, for it was not disturbed by a war of any length, during which he was stationed at Corunna, a port of Galicia. But though he had no external enemy to combat, he found within himself another to contend with. Wherefore he employed the time of peace not for rest but for a spiritual combat. To the frequent use of the sacraments he added the reading of pious books and meditation, by which means he conceived a great hatred of himself, and he set about subduing his body by mortification and as he continued this pious mode of life, he began by degrees to feel a desire to lead a life of still greater severity, and to view things of the other world in a different light. Nothing seemed to him high or exalted but what was of heaven on the other hand, everything that fortune holds out to ambitious minds seemed to him only worthy of contempt. Having made up his mind then to enlist under the banner of Christ as his leader, he examined the Orders fighting for Him. To see in which of them he would enrol himself. First he was attracted by the mortified life of the Discalced Franciscans, and by the strict observance of the Order of Preachers throughout Spain ; both these Orders, knowing his dispositions, would have conferred on him the Order of the priesthood. But having recommended the matter to God long and earnestly, and having weighted all the reasons carefully, he determined to enter the lowly Society of Jesus, and to ask admittance as a humble lay-brother, as though he was unworthy of the rank of a priest or unfit for it. He went to Compostella in a rich dress and surrounded by a large number of friends and servants suitable to his dignity and birth, and entered the noviciate there December 8th, 1598. All the Fathers thought he would not be able to undergo the duties and toil belonging to that condition, since he was more than thirty years of age, and all his life had been accustomed to every comfort that wealth could procure. He soon put an end to the misgivings concerning him which he saw expressed on their countenances. Before he had ended his first probation and had changed his secular dress for the religious habit, an infectious disease of a very violent kind suddenly broke out in the college. For two months he attended the sick most diligently, and sought out the lowest and meanest duties with as much eagerness as he had formerly coveted rank and dignities. He passed through all the tests of the noviciate and made his religious vows on February 4th, 1601. The next year he was appointed to accompany Father James Archer, who was to go with the fleet which the Catholic King was fitting out in aid of the Catholics of Ireland, under the command of Don Juan De Aguila. During the voyage he employed his zeal in caring both the bodies and souls of the sailors; attending on the sick night and day like a servant, and exhorting them to patience; urging on those who were in good health the practice of virtue, a horror of vice, and the use of the sacraments. Yet he did not allow himself to be wholly taken up or absorbed by these duties; but his soul was United with God just as if he was in the retirement of a college, and he continued his practices of mortification both on Shipboard and when he landed in Ireland, as if he had no external labours to perform. These voluntary mortifications prepared him, both soul and body, to meet the very great hardships and sufferings which he had to endure at the hands of the enemies of the faith. For soon after he landed at Dunboy Castle he was seized and put in chains by the heretics, contrary to the law of nations and in violation of their oath. For the besiegers had guaranteed the safety of all who defended the castle if they surrendered it, and had given a pledge, ratified by oath, into the hands of Dominic himself, who had proposed the terms of peace and was the messenger of the besieged. To have seized a Jesuit they supposed would save them from an indelible stain and from the crime of perjury. He was taken by a company of soldiers to Cork, his hands tied behind his back. There he was shut up in the common prison by order of Sir George Carew, the President of Munster, a most bitter enemy of the Catholics. He passed three months in this prison, awaiting the time of the assizes appointed for the trials of criminals, when he too was to be tried. Dominic would not appear in court in any other dress than the usual habit of the Society, in order that if any other reason for his seizure than his religion and faith was put forward, he might disprove it by his very dress. Mountjoy, the Viceroy of Ireland, who was presiding at the assizes, strove to win him over by making him great promises if he would enter the Queen’s service, even the chief command of a portion of the army. On the other hand, he threatened him with the greatest tortures, and even death, if he persevered in his resolution and refused to deny his faith and religion. His friends and relatives too, asked and besought him, for his own and his Sister’s sake, to temporize, and not to bring destruction on himself and disgrace on an illustrious family, telling him he might remain a Catholic at heart, and conform only outwardly, to please the whim of the Queen. But Dominic remained firm against threats and promises, and disregarding both alike, said he could not in so criminal a matter obey their advice or commands ; no matter what punishment they wished to inflict, however grievous the tortures they would employ, there was nothing that he was not ready to endure for God’s sake. Nor did his deeds fall short of his words. Mountjoy sentenced him to be hanged and disembowelled, his constancy in the faith being set down as a crime of high treason. Dominic returned to the prison full of joy, and awaited the time of his deliverance with delight. Mountjoy could not bear that this man full of God should enjoy such happiness, and in order that the days preceding his execution might be full of suffering, he ordered him to be put to the torture, a thing contrary to all human and divine law. He bore the fiercest torments as if they were a delight to him, and he was thankful for them as if they were special favours from heaven. The heretics, angered and maddened thereat, hastened the moment of his death. On the last day of October, 1602, showing no respect for the day, which was Sunday, they led him out to the gallows, his hands tied behind his back and a halter round his neck. When going out of the city he set before his mind the example of our Lord going from Jerusalem to Calvary, in order to bear these sufferings for Christ’s sake as he ought, and he walked along very modestly, his eyes fixed on heaven, his thoughts always intent on God. He saluted the gibbet with great affection, and when he came near it, he fell on his knees and kissed it, commending his sufferings to God. Then imitating the example of all the martyrs, he prayed for some time for his enemies, for the Queen, for the welfare of his native land, and with great alacrity and firmness he ascended the ladder. Standing on the topmost step, as if in a pulpit (for he was dressed in the ordinary habit of the Society), he began more zealously than every before to exhort the Catholics to preserve the faith with constancy till death, to be on their guard against the threats and promises of the Queen, the wrath of her ministers, and the wiles of the heretics, and he concluded thus: ‘Look up to heaven, and be not unworthy of your forefathers who boldly professed the faith. Do you too uphold it? In defence of it I offer up my life to-day.’ These were the last words spoken by Dominic ; they were most effective in encouraging the Catholics; uttered in that place and at that solemn moment by one of high birth who had shown contempt for worldly goods, they fell like a thunderbolt on the ears of the heretics. The officers perceiving this and fearing that the crowd might be still more confirmed in their hatred of heresy, ordered him to be thrown off the ladder. He was but a short time hanging on the gallows, and still breathing and his breast heaving, when the executioner, in punishment of his bold profession of the Catholic religion, cut open his body, and taking out his heart, held it up to the people uttering aloud the usual formula: ‘Long live the Queen.’ This last victim offered to God in Ireland preceded to the throne of God her who was guilty of so much innocent blood. The following night the Catholics gathered together his mangled limbs with great affection, and buried them in a chapel not far from the place where he suffered. In that chapel,’ says Nieremberg, ‘he is honoured by the veneration of the faithful, and as the Catholics affirm, he is glorified by God who works miracles there at his intercessjon.’ See also Fitzsimon, Rothe, O’Sullevan, Molanus, Imago S.J. Alegambe, Jouvency, and Nieremberg.