Frank Duff Interviews
The Earliest Meetings
Here we will explore some of those early traditions which are the roots of the present day Legion of Mary. What was it like at that first meeting?
The ladies had not been doing the hospital visitation yet. Before the Legion started, Frank Duff had been working away at a lot of personal tasks and one of those was the visitation of that hospital. He was doing that very work up to the time when the Legion took it over and then he dropped from it.
Actually his presence at those early meetings constituted a sort of difficulty inasmuch as they were declaring on the first night that they were not going to take in men for the present. The reason was that they were meeting on St. Vincent de Paul premises and if they started recruiting men, they were certainly entering into a competition with them. They were eagerly looking for men. No doubt the man who would join them would be equally willing to join the St. Vincent de Paul Society. Well, competition with them in those circumstances was out of the question. That was going to be the limiting condition. As long as that would be the result of bringing in men, they would not bring them in. But, most definitely laid down was the fact that the Legion of Mary was not to be a women's organization alone.
Since at that time, Frank was the only male member, he was there officially as a Tribune. Has that office passed from the Legion's ranks? Not completely because it remains on in name. The name is retained with a different function. At that time they were seeing the benefit of having an experienced man present at the branch of the Legion. They put it down on paper at a very early stage that such was a desirable thing and that every praesidium should have in it a man experienced in the system of the city, the social and charitable organizations, and that he should be a member with the title of Tribune.
Later on when circumstances changed and there would very possibly be men in every praesidium, that name was transferred to different set of duties. Nowadays it means a person, either a man or a woman, who is acting as spiritual director of a praesidium at the direction of the Spiritual Director. In other words, supposing, as it happens in many places of the world, a priest has many praesidia under his care, he would appoint somebody who would act, as far as possible, in his place and that office is now known as the Tribune.
What about the expression Spiritual Guide which was used by some Legion groups? This new title (Tribune) supersedes the title “Spiritual Guide” because Spiritual Guide assumes too much. It's an arrogant sort of title if you think it out. The office does not carry the state and standing of a priest. The Tribune is, in a peculiar sort of way, a shadow of the original idea of the Tribune who was to be an odd man out in the praesidium but one who was really justified. It's a shadow of the old idea. Or perhaps the old idea was the shadow of something more important that developed later.
Frank remained on in that first praesidium for a very long time. In the first year four praesidia came into existence and he attended the meetings of all those four for a while. For a very long time he attended the parent meeting. Father Toher and Father Creedon were on the scene and as the praesidia began to come into existence, they more or less divided them up among themselves trying to have at least one of them present at every meeting.
When the first praesidium started outside Francis Street, Frank moved onto it in the capacity of Tribune. He continued to repeat this idea as new praesidia came into existence, transferring over to the new one and that meant at one stage, his dropping out of Myra House. They were always more or less all right because they had Father Creedon or Father Toher. But Frank did continue with them for a number of years and then only parted company later.
6-1/2 Whitefriars Street
Now Frank Duff had done other works by himself before the Legion ever began. One of those was picketing a place downtown. That place was known as 6-1/2 Whitefriars Street. It was an exponent of that old, awful system known in Ireland as proselytizing. If you look the word up in the dictionary, you'll find that it means seeking conversions. But in Ireland it had the exclusive meaning of seeking them in an incorrect way, of buying them, using inducements of all to get the people. For instance, there was an elaborate dispensary in Dublin, very well run, and the very poor were given first class medical treatment there provided they attended a Protestant service. In Ireland, it meant free meals, free accommodation in hostels, all on this condition that they would lend themselves to attendances at non-Catholic services and that sort of thing.
The members of the St. Vincent de Paul conference in Whitefriars Street, that's the Carmelite one, got a letter from a very magnificent person called Tom McCabe. Tom McCabe was, incidentally, a very close friend of Frank’s own father and a fellow-official with him and a great member of the St. Vincent de Paul Society. This letter came from him and it was quite direct. It took them to task. It said that at their own backdoor was a nest of proselytizing, this same 6-1/2 Whitefriars Street, and they were doing nothing about it and that must not continue. So, the president of the branch after reading the letter out loud, said: "That's true. We must amend it." Then he asked for a volunteer who would turn up with him the following Sunday and examine the position. At that time, Frank did not realize what he was letting himself in for but it was plenty!
At about half past seven the following Sunday morning, a cold morning, the two of them arrived there and after a while they saw the frequenters of the place begin to come up and go in. They were the most awful-looking crowd of poor creatures that could be thought of. Those were days of alarming poverty and these were the ultimate in the way of misery and they looked like something that had crawled from under stones.
It was very awkward to watch, but the two of them kept a count of those that were going in. After a while Mr. John T. Lennon picked on one of them and took her a way down the street to chat. He tried to find out something about how the place was run as Frank continued on counting.
Gabbett
While Frank Duff was at 6-1/2 Whitefriars Street, a woman came up to him, addressed him by name and said: "Are you interested in that place?" "Yes." "Well," she said, "if you're going to do anything about it, you should speak to Mr. Gabbett there. He's very interested." So Frank looked down to where she pointed and there was a very tall, powerful man with a fierce black mustache, a formidable looking man with his overcoat collar turned up. He was watching just as Frank was. There was a little bit of a lull in the proceedings and Frank moved on down to him. Frank had never seen him before.
His name was Gabbett which, strange to say, is not an unknown name in Ireland. It's a nme of French origin. Frank told him that a woman had recommended that he talk to him if they were interested in this work and Frank said they were thinking of tackling it. He gave a very fierce glance on Frank and he said yes, he was opening a counter institution the following Sunday, a coincidence of extraordinary quality. So, Frank remarked to him that, of course, they were not going to enter into any sort of competition with him. Their desire would be to help. And just at this moment Frank’s companion, John T. Lennon, returned and announced to him that he had gotten permission from the manager of the school, who was a Carmelite, to open up free breakfast there the following Sunday.
The school was exactly opposite 6-1/2 Whitefriars Street, So, Frank then said that Mr. Gabbett was completely ready for that very enterprise. At once Lennon said: "Well, Mr. Gabbett we certainly are not going to start an opposition venture to you. But will you accept our aid? Will you let us pay for the whole enterprise?" You'd imagine that would be a great boon for Mr. Gabbett, who was a shoemaker and not backed by any organization, but he said, very independently indeed, that he was able to manage. Then Lennon asked him if he would accept their help, their personal help. Gabbett replied, a little reluctantly, that he would. So, all was arranged then. He said he had everything ready. It was arranged that Frank and John would turn up the following Sunday and help.
So, the following Sunday, Gabbett came down to Mission Hall at 6-1/2 Whitefriars Street about the same time as they did and as each person came up, he directed that person up to his own place which was waiting to receive them. The great majority of the people did go up there. That spoke very well for their good intentions for very probably they knew they might not get as much from Gabbett as they would from the old institution. Frank and John took part in the whole serving of the meals and then took some brooms and they cleaned up.
Now that continued Sunday after Sunday. Lennon who was not strong enough for all this extra work, especially the early rising and having to get to Mass without any breakfast and then all this working for hours, found it too much and he dropped out. But Frank, on the contrary becoming close friends with Gabbett, started meeting him on Saturday nights and helping him to prepare for the meal as well as cleaning up and all that sort of thing.
From that work started a very close association between Gabbett and Frank. Gabbett was a person whose like Frank had never before encountered. There was an intensity about his religion which was formidable. He looked on it, perhaps, as the present day Legionary would. For him, life had only one purpose and everybody should be found acknowledging that in their actions. Frank found this very impressive and he got the habit of dropping in to Gabbett if he had a free moment.
Gabbett - continued
At that time Frank Duff was a government employee which at necessitated his presence on the job until 5:00 P.M. From then on he really gave his evenings to the work, leaving the question of food to solve itself in various ways. When it became too late to continue visiting the homes of the people, something he was doing on an extensive scale, half past nine was becoming a little too late to go into their homes because working hours started very early in the morning in those days, then Frank would drop in to Gabbett. Now you'd ask, "What was Gabbett doing at that hour of the night?" The answer was that he was working. He was a craftsman. He was a bootmaker in a different sense to what it would be today. He made everything with his own hands.
It was wartime, World War One, and he was a maker of officers' full-length boots. It was a wonder to watch him. You'd see perfect things such as one would imagine only a machine could do, emerging from his hands and you'd see the dreadful, painful labor that went into each little act. But he used to talk during his work. He was able to do that and his talk was about only one thing and that was the heavenly thing. Frank performed the secondary purpose of listening.
Now Gabbett was a member of the Pioneers, that's the Pioneer Total Abstinence Group and it was he who led Frank into that organization. Anything that Gabbett would do had to be viewed seriously. He talked away and his thoughts were profound.
But Gabbett could only write his name. He had to do that because he had to put his name on receipts. Otherwise he could not write. But he could read anything! It was extraordinary. Frank completely won his friendship by giving him presents of books. He remembered that Father Faber was one of the authors he favored and he who had never got much in the way of a present appreciated these things.
Frank continued on working in that place of his. In way it touched the Legion. Frank proceeded to open up a lot of activities in Gabbett’s premises. The initial purpose for hiring these premises was to counter the proselytizing, but otherwise that left the premises free for the rest of the week. Since nature abhors a vacuum, they began to fill up the place with activities devoted mainly to the instruction of children for the sacraments and to women. There was a lot of neglect in those days. Frank ran a class himself for boys and men. And the girls that they brought in attended classes of one kind and another. There was a lot of work there.In the corner of the main room of the place were a rather tasteful altar, drapes coming down, and a statue of the Immaculate Conception in the place of honor with flowers. This statue is the one the Legion has in its showcase today in the Concilium office. Later they moved from there into a place that bore the rather peculiar name of Number Nine Cheater's Lane.
From Cheater’s Lane to Myra House
When the Irish rebellion took place in that year, Gabbett was very outraged. He had been a veteran in the British Army and had served through twenty-one years in India. He was very outraged and although he was now at an age beyond physical compass, he shut down his place and joined the British Army. This he did without reference to Frank Duff at all as if he was just a small boy in the matter. Gabbett told Frank quite casually that everything in the place was Frank’s because Gabbett had terminated the tenancy.
So, Frank took everything out of there. There was nothing of very great value but he transferred it all up to Myra House. And as it turned out, most of those things in Myra House later played an important part in the history of the Legion. For instance, the statue of St. Patrick they put on the mantel place of the principal room in the Myra House. Frank bought two brass candlesticks which flanked St. Patrick and at every meeting of St. Patrick's Conference of the St. Vincent de Paul Society they lit two candles beside this statue. Those candlesticks are the candlesticks which were used at the first Legion meeting
The statue of the Sacred Heart which is now in the Concilium Office was also part of Gabbett's possessions. The statue of Our Lady, strange to say, was not put to any special use at all in Myra House then and it just stood there in some corner until the hands of Alice Keogh descended upon it and set it up on the altar for the first Legion meeting.
The Little Flower Kitchen
Unfortunately, the shutting down of Gabbett’s premises for free breakfast was attended by the return to 6-1/2 White Friars Street of all its former clients. Frank Duff reckoned to himself that something had to be done about this and he marched down and started to picket the place. Between customers he said the Rosary marching up and down on the pavement. He went to everybody who came up and very meekly he suggested to them that it was sinful for a Catholic to take part in a Protestant Service and why would they do that? Why should they do a thing like that? The answer he got was that they were hungry and they had to live. Sometimes the answer was spoken very nicely and sometimes very roughly.
Then Frank had to have recourse to something else. He went up to a place that was roughly a mile away called the Little Flower Kitchen. The priest who was in charge of it used to give very cheap meals on weekdays but nothing on Sundays. Frank chatted with him and told him the need and he agreed to stage an ample breakfast on a Sunday morning for just three pence.
Frank contracted to pay this bill whenever he presented it to him. He then got a number of cards and he put his initials on each card, the card and initials forming a distinctive enough symbol. And anybody who would consent to turn away from 6-1/2, he gave an alternative breakfast. In this he was by himself.
Frank and the Sailor
Now Frank Duff was by himself for quite a time, probably over a year. He had all sorts of adventures during that time. For instance, it was at a very early stage that a drunken sailor came along and Frank moved out in front of him in his usual manner and he said to him: "If you're a Catholic," he said, "it's improper to go into that place where you have to attend a Protestant Service." And before Frank knew what was happening, the sailor had a knife in his hand and he lunged at Frank.
Frank was, so to speak, a sitting duck because he hadn't the slightest expectation of this. Undoubtedly, the sailor would have killed Frank if he were sober. As it was, when the sailor lunged, he trembled and all that sort of thing and he missed Frank. Frank later laughingly said that his response would have done very good credit to Muhammad Ali because it flattened the sailor out, and there he was lying on the ground. Frank moved over in case the sailor had sufficient energy to get up to resume hostilities but there was no further need for any intervention on Frank’s part because a lady who was watching the proceedings from the other side of the road came up and what she didn't do to the sailor was not worthwhile. She beat him and she kicked him until he was positively in terror. These sorts of episodes were not infrequent. Picketing could be both adventurous and dangerous.
Tom Fallon
Frank Duff was young at the time. His wages were not very great. His father had died and Frank was now the sole support of his family. When he settled his bills with the Little Flower establishment, he realized that he couldn't continue because the bill was happily going up every week. Thinking things over, he said to himself: "Well, from every point of view I had better terminate this." The St. Vincent de Paul Society, he knew from the meetings with Gabbett, would be more than anxious to take over the work and to pay the bills. He knew that without having to ask anybody.
So, he summoned a little meeting and it was remarkable that to this meeting came all the heads of the Society in Dublin, including Sir Joseph Glenn, who was Supreme President for Ireland, Mr. Lalor and many more. Among them was Tom Fallon who was a man whose name was well known to Frank but whom he had never met, a giant, really a wonderful person. To say that Frank had no difficulty in persuading them would be an understatement because they were only too anxious to help. And they agreed to pay any bills Frank had to pay. They were very full of gratitude for the work being done and at the end of the proceedings Tom Fallon came up toFrank and he asked if Frank would permit him to come around on Sundays and join in?
Frank was grateful for that. That partnership continued for some time. And then another and another and another came along and after 6-1/2 years of picketing, the place shut down. The number of clients had been reduced to a small handful and the organizers of the thing decided to amalgamate it with a similar, bigger enterprise being carried on the north side of the city in the Metropolitan Hall. They thought they'd surprise the St. Vincent de Paul men by making a rapid secret transfer communicated only to the small group that was there on the last day. But somebody blew the whistle and the men were waiting on the picket line the following day when they came. And so that was the end of 6-1/2 Whitefriars. The number of people at its maximum was about a hundred and fifty. After that they started off to picket the Metropolitan Hall.
The initial number going into the Metropolitan Hall for the free breakfast was 250. After 16-1/2 years of picketing that place also shut down. Frank had dropped out of that work before its end. The Legion of Mary continued the picketing and it was a very wonderful fact that it was out of that picketing group that Frank derived the organizers and workers of the Morning Star Hostel.
Back to Gabbett - Portobello Barracks
To get back to Gabbett, he was too old for combat and so they sent him to Aldershot which is one of the main military establishments of England and there they saw his value. There was a man in charge there, Brigadier General Perrira, who was a Catholic. Perrira saw Gabbett's quality as a craftsman and he made him master shoemaker. He used him only to organize the shoemaking side of things, principally for lecturing to the officers and men on footwear and feet, how to take care of both. Gabbett would, of course, be very good at that.
Before he was sent off to England, Gabbett was on what he called his “state of work” and one day a gentleman called Pope, not the Pope, came into his workshop and told Gabbett an extraordinary story about what was known in those days as Portobello Barracks. There were at that time two battalions of the Lancashire Fusilliers stationed in that barracks. There was in a sectioned-off corner of the barracks area a hospital for men suffering from venereal disease. It was the rule in those days that a man found to be suffering from that disease went under automatic arrest, was put into a hospital and they were very careful about letting anybody go near them. That man could have no visitors. There were 200 men in that hospital who were roughly divided as according to the designations of the day: COE, which meant Church of England; RC, which needs no explanation, and NC which meant Non-Conformist.
Into that third category went anybody who wasn't in the other two respectable categories. They were all lumped together for Divine Service on a Sunday. Whether they were Methodists, Presbyterians or what else they were, they were all marched off to the one place. Now every Sunday there was a service. The COE people had their own chaplain. The Catholics had a nominal chaplain but he didn't even know of the existence of the place. At any rate he had his Masses to say in the parish church. So, they were accidently neglected. The others, the NC's had a chaplain of their own too.
Now, Pope was the COE's chaplain's assistant and he came down and told Gabbett about the apparent neglect of the Catholics which had rendered them very wild. And in fact, tract-droppers and proselytizers were at work among them. Gabbett in those conditions would be a man of few words. He got up, put on his coat and he accompanied Mr. Pope up to the barracks and he wormed his way in there. He got into the enclosure and found what was at stake and then went down to the nominal chaplain and told him everything. Father O'Loughlin, who was the brother of Mrs. Kirwan, the future first President of the Legion, appointed Gabbett as his lay assistant which gave him a status and the right to enter the barracks.
So, Gabbett then went to the barracks authorities and claimed a barrack room for the service and that had to be granted. Then he came up the next Sunday, having given notice, and he put the statue on the mantelpiece with two candles and he held the first service. Now only twenty men turned up to that out of approximately seventy Catholics because they were very annoyed. They were on strike in other words. Gabbett held on in his inimitable style.
Later on he involved Frank in that and he used to go up in the humble capacity of a listener. But then he used to get busy among the men; contacting them. He remembered being frequently contacted by the orderlies up there objecting to his shaking hands with the men. Did he understand the risk? And his answer was that he did but that he found it impossible to talk in a friendly manner to a man without shaking hands with him. But it had the very useful role of teaching him to think on that subject. After he had shaken hands with the men, he used to regard himself as unclean. It taught him to remember not to touch his eyes or his mouth or any of these delicate parts. The danger was there alright and when Sancta Maria opened up subsequently, Frank was there to give them the necessary advice and to provide against the risks with the result that in the whole history of Sancta Maria nobody ever caught anything.
They kept working away and then the Catholics started coming to the service until they had the full number of them attending every Sunday, the full seventy,and cases began to emerge in abundance. Frank saw the operation of a man actually coming into the Church in less than 24 hours. You see, once a man was declared cured, he might be gone within an hour. Experienced soldiers were urgently needed out in France. So, that's why they had to get through the reception of a man quickly.
Continue at Early Days of the Legion