Born: 18 April 1898, Blarney Street, Cork City, County Cork
Entered: 09 October 1916, St Stanislaus College, Tullabeg, County Offaly
Ordained: 31 July 1931, Milltown Park, Dublin
Final Vows: 02 February 1934, Belvedere College SJ
Died: 21 May 1962, Mungret College, Mungret, County Limerick
Part of the St Francis Xavier, Gardiner Street, Dublin community at the time of death.
Father was a clerk in a stockbroking firm and died in 1903. His mother now lives at Belgrave Avenue, Wellington Road, Cork, and supported by an older brother who lectures in Mathematics at the Municipal Technical Institute (Cork Institute of Technology).
Educated at the Christian Brothers Primary School at North Monastery and then went to Mungret College SJ after the Intermediate Course.
BA 1st Class at UCD
by 1923 at Leuven, Belgium (BELG) studying
by 1933 at St Beuno’s, Wales (ANG) making Tertianship
◆ Irish Province News
Irish Province News 37th Year No 3 1962
St. Francis Xavier's, Gardiner St.
The community was profoundly shocked by the news received on the afternoon of Monday, May 21st, of Fr. Tim Mulcahy's sudden death at Mungret. He had given the annual Triduum for the Sick, broadcast by Radio Éireann from the Ignatian chapel, towards the end of April. It was known that recurrent pains in the head had made him consult his doctor, but x-rays and cardiograph examination did not reveal anything more than usually untoward before he went to Mungret on May 14th for the rest which he regarded as his Major Villa. But the last of his typically charming letters, posted on the 21st, had not reached its destination before the fatal thrombosis struck him. One of those letters read "I shall be back on Wednesday". But he was not to return to Gardiner Street. May he rest in peace, in the shade of the ancient Mungret Abbey, near to the remains of those monks of an earlier Ireland whose faith he held so firmly and which he did so much to spread in another age.
Earlier issues of the Province News have recorded the many material benefits which Fr. Mulcahy brought to Gardiner Street while he was Superior here. His charming charity had perhaps too often been taken for granted: but he is lovingly, sorely, missed.
The Bishop of Limerick, Most Rev. Dr. Henry Murphy, presided at the Solemn Office and Requiem Mass for Fr. Mulcahy at the Crescent, on May 23rd. The Mass was sung by Fr. Andrews, Rector, and Frs. Quigley and Guinane were deacon and sub-deacon. Fr. Visitor and Fr. Provincial were present, as well as many of the Gardiner St. community and representatives of most of the Province Houses. The boys of the Crescent walked behind the funeral procession as far as the city boundary, and those of Mungret lined the avenue and cemetery there. The prayers at the graveside at Mungret were recited by Fr. Provincial. The Gardiner St. Sodalities were represented by Mr. John Monahan, President of the Ignatian Sodality, and Mr. L. S. Ó Riordáin, Secretary, and by Mr. A. Ralph, President and five members of the Evening Office Confraternity.
The Sacred Heart College and Church, Limerick
Fr. T. I. Mulcahy, R.I.P.
The community was deeply shocked when the sad news was announced of Fr. Mulcahy's sudden death at Mungret. Everyone, not only in the Crescent community, where he had been Rector, but in the city of Limerick, seemed to look on Fr. Mulcahy as a personal friend, and only the week previously, having finished his retreat, he came in from Mungret to dine with us. Fr. Rector and the community deemed it a signal honour to have the Requiem Mass in the Crescent Church, and the many priests who attended, both from the Society itself and from outside, bore testimony to the great personality of the deceased. Very many Mass Cards, letters and messages of sympathy were sent to the Crescent, and His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin wired: “Rector, Crescent. ... Deepest sympathy on death of Fr. Mulcahy - a worthy priest”. His Lordship the Bishop of Limerick presided at the obsequies and Mgr. Moloney chanted a Lesson in the Office. Together with Very Rev. Fr. Visitor and Fr. Provincial, representatives from almost all our houses were present at the funeral, The Mass was celebrated by Fr. Rector and Frs. Quigley and Guinane were deacon and sub-deacon. Fr. Provincial officiated at the burial in the Mungret cemetery.
Obituary :
Fr Timothy I Mulcahy (1898-1962)
Born: Cork, 1898; education: C.B.S., Our Lady's Mount, Cork, and Mungret College; entered Society, Tullabeg, 1916; studied, Rathfarnham and U.C.D., 1918-1922, Louvain, 1922-1925; teaching staff, Belvedere, 1925-1928; theology, Milltown Park, 1928-1932; ordination, 1931, and tertianship, St. Beuno's, N. Wales, 1932-1933.
Stationed Irish Messenger Office, Belvedere College, 1933-1947, as National Director, Sodality of Our Lady, Editor Madonna, Irish Monthly and Irish Jesuit Directory. Rector, Sacred Heart College, Crescent, 1947 1950. Superior, St. Francis Xavier's, Gardiner Street, 1950-1957. Director, Ignatian Sodality there, 1950-1959. Rector, St. Mary's, Emo, 1959-1961. At Gardiner Street to death (at Mungret College), May 21st, 1962.
On a May afternoon in 1962, while talking to a friend in the parlour of Mungret College, Fr. Tim Mulcahy was struck by the heart-attack which he survived only long enough to receive the Last Sacraments. He had been a boy in the College fifty years before. Fifty years bring big changes and to Mungret not less than elsewhere. Fr. Tim seldom spoke of his schooldays, but through those fifty years he was a constant visitor to his old school, making his annual retreat there and when ill-health came choosing that rather out of the way spot for a brief holiday or an unavoidable rest. He kept his interest in the Past as anyone who saw him welcome successive Mungret Annuals will agree, and though away from home he died among friends who had the best of reason to be proud of a distinguished pupil.
Good noviceships have as little history as happy nations. That to which Fr. Tim came had scarcely been stirred by a ripple of the Easter Rising, known only through letters from home and the very rare newspaper cuttings read aloud by the Socius. It cannot have been difficult in the lull that followed it to forget the outside world. His “angelus” was his life long friend, Fr. Tom Perrott. It was a friendship thirty years' separation by half a world never weakened and one may be forgiven if one imagines they sometimes forgot the custom-book to rendezvous as they had often done as boys under the clock” in their well-loved Cork City, to which each in his own way was to do honour,
The abolition in 1918 of a home juniorate enabled Fr. Tim to catch up, as it were, and more than one generation were his contemporaries. In Rathfarnham Castle he quickly showed what he was always to remain - he was the perfect community man. There was a triumvirate who talked a “little language” (Fr. Tim's stage-name was “factorial five”) and brightened life by their original pranks, for he had and retained a charming playfulness. Alas, Fr. Gallagher, Fr. Little and Fr. Tim are all gone, but they lived to delight in their maturity an extraordinarily wide circle and to win and hold a unique place in the affection of the Province as well as in the hearts of the innumerable souls they helped.
Rathfarnham was already proving old; the honeymoon of Fr. Jimmie Brennan's reign almost over; and Fr. Tim's university career is perhaps chiefly memorable in that he was the last young Jesuit for over ten years to conduct the affairs of the English Society in College, which - founded a decade before by Thomas McDonagh, one of the immortal sixteen of Easter Week, and the brilliant Australian student, Fr. Peterson, happily still with us - had been almost a Jesuit pocket-borough in the days when Violet Connolly, Kate O'Brien, Fr. Paddy O'Connor and Professor Gerard Murphy starred its eager assemblies.
English was Fr. Tim's subject, and though he wrote little he put his training and critical judgment to good use later. But now it was time for Philosophy, in the great university of Louvain, still staggering from the unexpected shock of its demolition in the First World War. It was not in fact a congenial posting and some were to see its influence in deepening the natural intellectual tolerance of his mind into something like indecision in speculative studies. Happily, his “colleges” were spent in Belvedere, the house in which he passed the greatest part of his working life and which he loved and which loved him. Fr. Tim was before all things urbane in the best sense of that word. A city man, the great city school found him reserved, dignified, friendly and wise. His influence would always be the result of personality and not propaganda. Indeed he seldom urged a case, never raised his voice, rarely argued, and held clear, firm, tenacious opinions without dogmatism or contradiction. A born teacher.
Perhaps in Theology at Milltown or Tertianship at Beuno's it is pardonable for a contemporary to remember chiefly the way he sweetened the last years of formation: his conversation round a fire at Glencree, the way he and Fr. Perrott would burst into their own version of the Volga boat-song to carry a weary group up the steep, stony avenue of St. Beuno's.
His work in the Society fell into two parts. For twenty years he was editor of The Irish Monthly and The Madonna. A big school is very much a closed shop, but Belvedere was well aware of what it gained by the presence of Fr. Mulcahy and his friends and co-workers in the Messenger Office, Fr. Scantlebury and Fr. McCarthy. Though his only official contact with the school was as confessor, he became in a very real sense a Belvederian whom even Fr. John Mary O'Connor would have ranked as one hundred per cent.
His editorship of The Irish Monthly was not an altogether happy story. He had not perhaps the genius of its founder, Fr. Matt Russell, to make it a nest of singing birds, but it was in that great tradition he would have liked to work and was fitted to work. Policy in an emergent nation wanted economics, civics and social theory. He did his best but the medium was a poor one. With the sodality it was different. There, too, winds of change were blowing. A long and somewhat inactive tradition had to be remodelled in a society which greeted the “Age of Mary” with fresh enthusiasm and, incidentally, a sheaf of Marian magazines. He was the perfect uncontroversial leader, never disillusioned, never unwilling to be content with less than absolute perfection, if only he could foster genuine holiness under Mary's banner.
It seemed surprising to many who knew him well that his obvious talent and graces for government were not used earlier. But the chance came and in three full, rich years as Superior of the Crescent, in as many in the delicate task of Superior of a noviceship, and above all in a never-to be-forgotten period in Gardiner Street, he did work for God, the country and the Province only he could do.
His Gardiner Street activity will be remembered for three notable elements. He was, as may be imagined, a devoted confessor with devoted penitents. It is a role upon which he would not have tolerated any comments, His predecessor as Superior, Fr. Tyndall, had incorporated in the remarkable celebrations of the Novena of Grace a special feature by which the vast and growing congregations who assembled long before the devotions were led from the pulpit in prayers, hymn-singing and a real effort to bring to the exercises that confidence and fervour which the Novena calls for. Fr. Tyndall carried through his admirable plan so well that many feared an anti-climax when his term of office came to an end. They need not have. Fr. Tim made his own unique personal contact with those great crowds and he will be remembered by them till all the generation is gone, and his is only a legend.
For a long time there the need for a renovation of the church had been admitted, but only piecemeal work was done. Fr. Mulcahy made the Gardiner Street of today, transforming an old and, it must be admitted, rather grimy church, thickly hung with inartistic pictures and meaningless decoration, into a lightsome, joyous church which seemed to blossom into a new and fundamental beauty. To execute the task he called in Michael Scott, whom he had known in Belvedere, and his namesake and co-worker, Patrick Scott. It needed courage to approve a scheme which - apart from the few last-ditch traditionalists who loved every fold of the robes of the Indian and Chinese watchers in the painting of Francis's death-bed-might not be acceptable to the great body of loyal friends who are Gardiner Street's pride and glory. Fr. Tim did not compromise. The great panels of undecorated scarlet damask stood out from white and grey walls which some would have thought more suitable to a garden city than to the faded glories of the north side of Dublin. But they filled the house of God with light and on the side-altars were statues that could not be passed with a casual glance, and if the splendid scagliola pillars of the high altar had to be painted white it was to give its lapis-lazuli tabernacle the true focal value which its Inhabitant deserves, One could stand at the lower rail of Gardiner Street and, asked for an obituary of Fr, Tim, say “Circumspice”. He has another monument to his memory in the new St. Francis Xavier Hall in Sherrard Street, for hardly had he completed the decoration of the church when he was called on to replace Fr. Cullen's famous “Pioneer Hall”, more than worn out by its forty eight years of varied activity. Despite the ill-health which was already making itself felt, he carried the new and more solid hall through its planning and building stages, leaving only the formal opening to his successor.
But a friend cannot leave monuments to speak for Fr. Tim - and how many and how good friends he had! It is sometimes said that a man who has no enemies is a poor creature. Fr. Tim was the living proof of the falsehood of this saying. He had none. His friendship was essentially that of a giver : he asked for nothing but he concealed this, and it was easy to think and indeed perhaps true that the friends meant as much to him as he to them. He fostered friendship with a long memory and a recurrent refreshment of its precious times. Separation was a minimal interference with this intercourse, as we have seen in the case of Fr. Perrott. From Mungret on the last Easter the sick man sent a charming little letter of greeting to a Dublin lady whom he had not met in many years, and by the same post to one of the community he had just left a gay anecdote of his own special brand. It is commonplace to say no one will fill his place, but perhaps it should be added that he filled it so perfectly that he can never lose it,
A handsome tribute to Fr. Mulcahy from His Grace the Archbishop of Dublin:
Archbishop's House,
Dublin 9.
23-5-1962.
My Dear Fr. Provincial,
I am very sorry--but not surprised to learn of Fr. Mulcahy's death, May be rest in peace! He was a great priest. From the year 1941 I. knew his zeal and patience and very courteous charity. I believe that I shall have in him a strong friend before God.
With kind wishes.
I remain,
Yours very sincerely,
+John C. McQuaid
◆ The Mungret Annual, 1963
Obituary
Father Timothy Mulcahy SJ
On a May afternoon in 1962, while talking to a friend in the parlour of Mungret College, Father Tim Mulcahy was struck by the heart-attack which he survived only long enough to receive the Last Sacraments. He had been a boy in the College fifty years before. Fifty years bring big changes and to Mungret not less than elsewhere. Father Tim seldom spoke of his schooldays, but through those fifty years he was a constant visitor to his old school, making his annual retreat there and when ill-health came choosing it for a brief holiday or an unavoidable rest. He kept his interest in the Past as anyone who saw him welcome successive Mungret Annuals will agree, and though away from home he died among friends who had the best of reason to be proud of a
distinguished pupil.
His work in the Society fell into two parts. For twenty years he was editor of “The Irish Monthly” and “The Madonna”. A big school is very much a closed shop, but Belvedere was well aware of what it gained by the presence of Father Mulcahy and his friends and co-workers in the Messenger Office, Father Scantlebury and Father McCarthy. Though his only official contact with the school was as confessor, he became in a very real sense a Belvederian whom even Father John Mary O'Connor would have ranked as one hundred per cent.
His Gardiner Street activity will be remembered for three notable elements. He was, as may be imagined, a devoted confessor with devoted penitents. It is a role upon which he would not have tolerated any comments. His predecessor as Superior, Father Tyndall, had incorporated in the remarkable celebrations of the Novena of Grace a special feature by which the vast and growing congregations who assembled long before the devotions were led from the pulpit in prayers, hymn-singing and a real effort to bring to the exercises that confidence and fervour which the Novena calls for. Father Tyndall carried through his admirable plan so well that many feared an anti-climax when his term of office came to an end. They need not have. Father Tim made his own unique personal contact with those great crowds and he will be remembered by them till all the generation is gone, and his is only a legend.
For a long time there the need for a renovation of the church had been admitted, but only piece meal work was done. Father Mulcahy made the Gardiner Street of today, transforming an old and, it must be admitted, rather grimy church, thickly hung with inartistic pictures and meaning less decoration, into a lightsome, joyous church which seemed to blossom into a new and fundamental beauty. To execute the task he called in Michael Scott, whom he had known in Belvedere, and his namesake and co-worker, Patrick Scott. It needed courage to approve a scheme which apart from the few last-ditch traditionalists who loved every fold of the robes of the Indian and Chinese watchers in the painting of Francis's death-bed-might not be acceptable to the great body of loyal friends who are Gardiner Street's pride and glory. Father Tim did not comprornise. The great panels of undecorated scarlet damask stood out from white and grey walls which some would have thought more suitable to a garden city than to the faded glories of the north side of Dublin. But they filled the house of God with light and on the side-altars were statues that could not be passed with a casual glance, and if the splendid scagliola pillars of the high altas had to be painted white it was to give its lapis-lazuli tabernacle the true focal value which its Inhabitant deserves. One could stand at the lower rail of Gardiner Street and, asked for an obituary of Father Tim, say “Circumspice”. He has another monument to his memory in the new St Francis Xavier Hall in Sherrard Street, for hardly had he completed the decoration of the church when he was called on to replace Father Cullen's famous “Pioneer Hall”, more than worn out by its forty eight years of varied activity. Despite the ill-health which was already making itself felt, be carried the new and more solid ball through its planning and building stages, leaving only the formal opening to his successor.
But a friend cannot leave monuments to speak for Father Tim - and how many and how good friends he bad! It is sometimes said that a man who has no enemies is a poor creature. Father Tim was the living proof of the falsehood of this saying. He had none. His friendship was essentially that of a giver: he asked for nothing but he concealed this, and it was easy to think and indeed perhaps true that the friends meant as much to him as he to them. He fostered friendship with a long memory and a recurrent refreshment of its precious times. Separation was a minimal interference with this intercourse. From Mungret the last Easter the sick man sent a charming little letter of greeting to a Dublin lady whom be had not met in many years, and by the same post to one of the community he had just left a gay anecdote of his own special brand. It is common place to say no one will fill his place, but perhaps it should be added that he filled it so perfectly that he can never lose it.
