r and Father White and a Dominican friar,
who came forth to the camp under a safe-conduct, both wearing their
clerical habits and preceded by a cross-bearer. The soldiers jeered
at the sacred symbol, and called it an idol. Father White indignantly
resented the outrage, when Sir Richard Wingfield threatened to put
an end to the controversy by running his sword through the
Vicar-Apostolic. 'The deputy however was a bookish man, at one period
of his life inclined to Catholicity, and he listened patiently to
Father White on the right of resisting or disobeying the natural
prince; but when the latter quoted some passage thereanent in the
works of St. Augustine, Mountjoy caused to be brought to him out of
his tent the identical volume, and showed to the amazement of the
bystanders, that the context explained away all the priest had
asserted.' The noble theologian told Father White that he was a
traitor, worthy of condign punishment for bringing an idol into a
Christian camp and for opening the churches by the Pope's authority.
Father White appeared in the camp a second time that day, making
a most reasonable request. He fell on his knees before the deputy,
begging liberty of conscience, free and open exercise of religion,
protesting that the people would be ready to resist all foreign
invasion were that granted; and finally beseeching that some of the
ruined churches might be given to the Catholics, who were ready
to rebuild them, and pay for them a yearly rent into his majesty's
exchequer. But the deputy was inexorable, and all he would grant was
leave to wear clerical clothes, and celebrate mass in private houses.
Mountjoy entered Waterford, received from the citizens the oath of
allegiance, and made over the city churches to the small section
of Protestants. At the same time he sent despatches to other towns
ordering the authorities to evict the Roman Catholics from the places
of worship. And then proceeding to Cork, and thence through Cashel
to Dublin, he undid all that the clergy had done with respect to the
churches, 'leaving perhaps to future statesmen,' writes Father
Meehan, 'living above the atmosphere of effete prejudices, the duty of
restoring to the Catholics of Ireland those grand old temples, which
were never meant to accommodate a fragment of its people.'[1]

[Footnote 1: Page 30.]

When Mountjoy returned to Dublin he found that he had been created
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland with two-thirds of the deputy's al