Notre Dame de Rouen. The façade of the Gothic Church in France. Photographer: Hippo1947. Licence: SHUTTERSTOCK.

11 November, 2026

Saint Martin. Bishop And Confessor. Feast Day, Today, 11 November. And Martinmas. White Vestments.



Illustration: MEDIEVAL HISTORIES

This Article, unless stated otherwise, is taken from

Martinmas – A European Feast.

Martinmas is celebrated the night before 11 November by merry-making and feasting. Since The Middle Ages, roast goose has been on the menu East of The Rhine.

Martin of Tours (circa 316 A.D. - 397 A.D.) was a soldier in The Roman Army, when he decided to convert to Christianity and afterwards was imprisoned for his refusal to fight. He later became a Monk, founded a Monastery in Gaul, at Marmoutier, and became Bishop of Tours, a career choice he, according to legend, vehemently tried to avoid by hiding in the goose-pen of the Monastery.

However, the geese honked loudly and he was discovered by the people, who carried him in triumph to The Throne in the Cathedral. It is believed that he built the Monastery, after his appointment as Bishop, in order to have a secluded place to withdraw to.



Saint Martin of Tours.
Available on YouTube

The Feast Day, 11 November, has its own roots in the Eastern Byzantine Church, where the Fast before Christmas, the Quadragesima Sancti Martini, still measures up to forty days. 

It begins the day after the Feast Day of Saint Martin. From this, stems its somewhat carnival-esque character, with different Traditions of merrymaking documented from all over Europe; Processions of children carrying lanterns, people eating goose, or other meaty delicacies, or just – as in Portugal – gathering at the fireplace, eating roasted chestnuts and drinking new wine.

Martin Walsh, who has surveyed a huge amount of very diverse source-material, was able to demonstrate that the Celebration of Martinmas in England can be documented back to the 14th-Century and was, at that time, accompanied “by conspicuous feasting, supplemented by musical entertainment”.


Illustration: MEDIEVAL HISTORIES

In England, and elsewhere, the Tradition was to have blood-puddings and freshly-roasted meat stemming from the slaughter of what cattle and other animals had to be culled in November. At the same time, it was “Settling Day”, when servants might leave in order to take up new employments. At the same time, peasants paid their dues to their lords and The Tithe to their Church; often partly paid in birds, like hens, ducks and geese, the Tradition grew to eat these birds roasted at the end of Autumn and beginning of Winter.

However, roast goose at Martinmas does not seem to have been quite so ubiquitous in an Early-English setting or French context.


European Traditions.

Quite the opposite is the case in Continental Europe, where the same elements of The Feast may be found – processions, merrymaking, reckoning, settling. Here, however, the goose was definitely on the table very early on, as is witnessed by some very charming “Martin-Ballads” composed by an otherwise unknown Monk, who lived at the Court of the Archbishop of Salzburg, 1365 -1396.


The Martin Ballads.

The Monk composed two secular ballads. The first one - Martein lieber Herre - is a vernacular translation of a Latin Hymn asking the Saint to present the company with roast goose and new wine. Another poem – Wolauf, lieben gessellen unuerczait – has more the character of being a subversive form of Eucharistic Liturgy, complete with a Chorus and a Tenor singing intermittently. The poem consists of seventy lines, divided into four verses, and the Text for the Tenor.


“Saint Martein, Lieber Herre”.
Available on YouTube

The song starts with an invitation to form a company, where social differences are laid aside, in order to create a sympathetic society. However, the joy is decidedly coupled with the introduction of (lots) of wine into the company. To this, is later added dishes of beans, apples and roast goose. The job of the Tenor is to invite the Saint –“Lord Martin” – to this joyful occasion as "King of the Merriments" – and to deliver all the goodies; wine and delicacies. It is obvious the Text was meant to be performed among a group of (celibate) men, being able to appreciate the definite Eucharistic connotations of the Text.


The following Text is from Wikipedia - the free encyclopædia,
unless otherwise stated.


Saint Martin’s Day, also known as Martinstag, or, Martinmas, Feast of Saint Martin of Tours, or, Martin le Miséricordieux, is Celebrated on 11 November each year. 

This is the time when Autumn wheat seeding was completed, and the fattened cattle produced “Martinmas Beef”. Historically, Hiring Fairs were held, where farm labourers would seek new jobs.

Saint Martin of Tours started out as a Roman Soldier, then was Baptised as an adult and became a Monk. It is understood that he was a kind man who led a quiet and simple life. The best-known legend of his “Life” is that he once cut his cloak in half to share with a beggar during a snowstorm, to save the beggar from dying from the cold.

That night, he dreamed that Jesus was wearing the half-cloak. Martin heard Jesus say to the Angels: “Here is Martin, the Roman Soldier who is not Baptised. He has clothed me.”


English: Saint Martin's Day Procession, Germany.
Deutsch: Sankt Martinszug. Erwachsene und Kinder
mit Laternen beim St.-Martins-Umzug. Sankt Martin
auf dem Pferd.
Date: 1949.
Photographer: Lachmann, Hans.
Institution: German Federal Archives, Koblenz.
Sammlung Hans Lachmann (Bild 194).
Attribution: Bundesarchiv, Bild 194-0273-45 / 
Lachmann, Hans / CC-BY-SA 3.0.
(Wikimedia Commons)


The following Text is from The Saint Andrew Daily Missal.

Saint Martin.
   Bishop and Confessor.
   Feast Day 11 November.

Double.

White Vestments.



English: Children going door to door, with paper lanterns,
on Saint Martin’s Day, in The Netherlands.
Nederland: Sunte-Marten/Sint-Maarten/St. Martin’s Day.
This File: 4 November 2006.
User: Servien
(Wikimedia Commons)

In the first three Centuries, the Saints were mostly Martyrs. Saint Martin is the first Bishop and Confessor honoured by The Church in the West. As Durand de Mende remarks, the Liturgy gives him a Rank equal to the Apostles, for he was the principal Apostle of Gaul.

His Feast Day was everywhere of obligation. Taking place often during “Saint Martin’s Summer”, that is at the end of Autumn, it rivalled in importance and popular rejoicings the Feast of Saint John. It had an Octave, like the Feast of Saint Laurence, for Saint Martin, “Priest of Priests” (the Response at Matins), occupied among Confessors the Rank of Saint Laurence among Martyrs.

Saint Martin, born at Savaria, in Pannonia, came to Gaul as a soldier. While still a Catechumen, he one day, near Amiens, gave part of his cloak to a poor man who asked him for alms in the name of Christ. During the following night, Jesus appeared to him clothed in this half of his cloak and said to him: “Martin, a simple Catechumen, covered Me with this garment.”


Abbey of Marmoutiers, France.
Founded by Saint Martin of Tours.
Illustration: OLIVER'S TRAVELS

At the age of eighteen, he was Baptised, and, having become a disciple of Saint Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, he built, two leagues from the Episcopal City, in the desert of Ligugé, a Monastery, whither he retired with a few disciples. He thus was the Founder of Monastic Life in Gaul.

But God would not allow this Light to remain hidden under the bushel (Gospel). Saint Martin had to leave his solitude and was made Bishop of Tours (Introit, Epistle, Gradual). He then Founded the famous Abbey of Marmoutiers, or Martin’s Monastery, where he often retired. There, he had around him eighty Monks who imitated the Lives of the Hermits of Thebaid.

He lived more than eighty years, devoting himself to the Glory of God and the Salvation of Souls. He died at Candes, near Tours, France, in 397 A.D. His tomb became famous through many Miracles, and attracted crowds from all parts of the Country.

Saint Gregory, Bishop of Tours in the 6th-Century A.D., does not hesitate to call the Holy Worker of Miracles the special Patron of the whole World. Few Saints have been so popular, In France, alone, there are about 4,000 Parish Churches Dedicated to Saint Martin and 485 Market-Towns or Villages that still bear his name.

Rome has a Church of Saint Sylvester and Saint Martin, where the Station is held on the Thursday of the Fourth Week in Lent. Saint Martin’s Cope used to be borne at the head of the Army in time of War and, on it, were sworn Solemn Oaths in time of Peace.


Mass: Státuit ei Dóminus.
Commemoration: Saint Mennas.

Interview Of The Year. Prepare To Be Humbled . . . “I’m Called Temperance Pattinson, But Everbody Calls Me “Tempe” ”



Interview Of The Year.
Prepare To Be Humbled . . .
Available on YouTube

The ”Help For Heroes” Web-Site can be found

What Are The Four Last Things ? An Interview With Fr. Timothy Finigan.



Altarpiece of The Last Judgement.
Saint George’s Church, Haguenau, France.
© Ralph Hammann
via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).


This Article is taken from, and can be read in full at,

Fr. Tim Finigan is writing a book about the “Four Last Things,” as they’re known in Catholic spiritual writing: Death, Judgement, Heaven, and Hell.

It would be an ambitious project for any writer, but it poses special challenges for the English Priest, who has suffered a series of blows to his health in recent years. Following a heart attack, he underwent a bypass operation. He then experienced dramatic weight loss that almost led to his death.

The 64-year-old, a Priest of the Archdiocese of Southwark, says he feels better now, but has been left with eyesight problems which mean he can only read around ten words a minute. It would take him around half an hour to read a single page of an average book, he says.


But Fr. Finigan, author of the popular Hermeneutic of Continuity Blog, is technologically adept and uses text-to-speech software instead of reading.

He spoke to The Pillar about the “Four Last Things” via phone, from his home in London. From time to time, he would hit a button and a female computerised voice read out his notes, giving him cues for his answers.


Hieronymus Bosch’s painting.
“The Seven Deadly Sins and The Four Last Things.”
Public Domain.


Saint Philip Neri wrote that “beginners in religion ought to exercise themselves principally in meditation on The Four Last Things”: Death, Judgement, Heaven, and Hell.

Why is that a good place for “beginners in religion” to start?

People are concerned about the things of the world, ordinarily. That’s most people’s concern: Day-to-day stuff. Philip Neri, and all the Saints, are concerned with people’s salvation.

It doesn’t mean that they’re not concerned about worldly matters, but it means that the most important thing of all is that he wants everyone to get to Heaven. And so he has this radical approach in teaching people to Pray.

Philip Neri is one example. Most people of that era would have seen the eternal truths as a sensible place for somebody to start, if they were coming to Faith from a purely worldly life and wanting to become a bit more devout.


Saint John Paul II said that the Church cannot omit “a constant catechesis” on The Four Last Things “without serious mutilation of her essential message.”

Why is it important for The Church to still speak of Death, Judgement, Heaven, and Hell ?

The most important reason he wants The Church to talk about these is because they’re still true. They are eternal truths and therefore still extremely important for us to consider.

He had a series of catecheses on The Last Things and he was criticised. People got a bit spooked by the idea, which shows how far we’ve come.

Until relatively recently, certainly within our lifetimes, it would have been considered perfectly reasonable for a Pope to teach about The Four Last Things. It’s really weird that it has become controversial.


Why has it become rare or controversial to speak about these four fundamental Truths ?

It’s become so because of whatever we want to call it: Modernism, humanism, liberalism . . . People have stopped thinking about eternity, about the eternal Truths. They stopped believing them to be true. When we see some of the discussions that are happening today over morality, you can tell that people don’t really believe the eternal Truths any longer.

They’re not scared of Hell, and they’re not necessarily particularly looking toward Heaven.


In recent years, you have suffered major health challenges. Have they given you a deeper insight into The Four Last Things ?

Yes, they certainly reminded me of the eternal Truths. I’ve thought about The Four Last Things before, but it does bring it home to you. It reminded me that these are really important matters to think about. I hope it’s helped me and that it will help me to help others.

The first one was that I had a heart attack. I then had a heart bypass operation. The doctor comes to see you and tells you that you’ve got a chance of dying of this. They are quite straightforward about it. You can just not wake up from this operation.

The next life-threatening development was slower. I nearly starved to death. From weighing about 10 and a half stone 
[147 pounds], I went down to eight stone [112 pounds]. It was because of various gastro-intestinal problems.


My sister’s a doctor. She took me back to her place, where I stayed for a year or so. It was the same thing called “NHS,” but it was completely different in that this one worked and the other one didn’t.

The doctor took one look at me, saw the notes, and said: “Right, you need to take this drug,” which was Creon. I immediately started putting weight back on and I survived.

Those two experiences reminded me forcefully of our mortality and what I, as a Priest — and everyone as a Christian — should be aware of: That life is short, and eternity is long.


Let’s talk about the first of The Four Last Things: Death. Why meditate on death - isn’t it a little morbid ?

We’re all going to die. That’s realistic. And it will happen within the next few decades. There’s a wonderful scene in the “Sharpe” series, where an Irish Priest talks to Sergeant Major Patrick Harper, who is wounded in battle.

Harper asks the Priest how he (Harper) is, and the Priest says: “Ah, you’re going to die, Pat.”

There’s a prospective marriage that the priest manages to bring off there and then on the battlefield. Afterwards, this Irish Sergeant gets cross because the Priest says: “Right, get up and take your wife home.” Harper protests: “Father, you told me I was going to die.” And the Priest says: “Pat, we’re all going to die.”

Saint Thomas More, in his reflections on The Last Things, has the story of two prisoners being taken to the gallows for hanging. One’s being taken five or six miles and the other one’s just being taken a few hundred yards.

It doesn’t really make much difference to them. He uses that as an illustration: We are all going to die. It’s sensible to think about our death.


What are the consequences of ignoring Death, which we seem to do even after the coronavirus pandemic and amid the vicious war in Ukraine ?

The coronavirus thing was incredible. I don’t want to do down my brother Priests. I’m sure there were Priests who talked about The Last Things and the meaning of death.

But there was a huge amount of talking about sanitising Churches, and so on — anything else but preparing for death. And the Church seemed to be hugely concerned about hygiene and not focusing on The Last Things.

The one thing that we need to Preach about at this time really is The Last Things and particularly the certainty of death. I think we dropped the ball on that.


Saint Alphonsus Liguori wrote a meditation “On the Certainty of Death,” in which he said: “We must die: How awful is the decree ! We must die. The sentence is passed: It is appointed for all men once to die.”

What happens to us once we’ve registered that ?

I think it means that we can widen our horizons. Saint Alphonsus is one of my favourite authors and certainly on this subject he speaks a great deal.

He was trying to help ordinary people at a time of some laxity in Italian Catholic life. He tried to bring people back to a sincere practice of their Faith and helped to widen their perspective.

People sometimes criticise thinking about The Last Things, saying: “Look, you’re not doing practical Charity.”

But, if we’re thinking about The Last Things and our eternal destiny, it motivates us to do the practical Charity with greater enthusiasm, greater effectiveness, and greater determination, because we know that this is going to be part of what we’re judged on. The two things go together.


Is there a particular work of art (a book, painting, or piece of music, etc) that helps us to meditate on Death ?

I would choose the Crucifix. There are some beautiful examples of Crucifixes. I change from one to another. At the moment, I’m particularly looking at Raphael’s Crucifixion at The National Gallery [in London].

For meditating on death, I recommend The Crucifixion, our standard image of Our Lord crucified, which is sometimes being neglected.

People are displaying the “resurrex-ifix”, instead of the Crucifix, almost as if we’re scared to look at this fundamental truth of our Faith.



Raphael’s “Mond Crucifixion”.
The National Gallery, London.
Public Domain.


Let’s turn to the second of The Four Last Things: Judgement.

The Penny Catechism asks: “Will everyone be judged at death, as well as at The Last Day ?” It answers: “Everyone will be judged at death, as well as at The Last Day: ‘Since men only die once, and after that comes judgement’ (Heb 9:27).”

Does this mean we will each be judged twice ?

Yes. Everyone’s judged at the moment of death. So you have Dives and Lazarus: “This day”, he’s gone to Paradise (cf. Luke 16:22), and also Our Lord forgives the repentant thief while he’s dying on the Cross: “This day, you will be with Me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43).

At the same time, Our Lord also talks about The Last Judgement: “I was hungry, and you gave me to eat . . .” (Matthew 25:35). This separation of people according to their merits is carried out at that time. It was defined at The Second Council of Lyon in 1274.

There was a dispute with the Pope. That’s one of the rare cases of a Pope actually falling into error. The whole question was about what happens immediately after death. John XXII [Pope from 1316 to 1334] was in error on that point and had to be corrected.


Why do you think that Catholics, today, seem uncomfortable speaking of Judgement and God as Judge ?

Probably the reason some people are reluctant to speak about these things is because there’s a focus on the social work of The Church, the social influence of The Church, and social matters, rather than other-worldly things.

There was criticism of Catholic spiritual writers talking too much, as people thought, about The Last Things, because they were taking us away from concern about the world and the poor.

But it’s not either-or, it’s both-and. If you’re concerned about The Last Things, then you will be concerned about having helped the poor and being able to go before Our Lord with that as something that you have done, and that Our Lord will be able to judge you on.

I think there’s been a false opposition between practical works of Charity and concern for The Last Things.


Could it be a reaction to the perceived legalism of The Church in the past ?

Yes, I think so. I mean, the perceived legalism is often false. One of the authors I’m reading at the moment is Garrigou-Lagrange. You could say he’s very technical, but we’re technical in any subject that we care about.

In his more popular spiritual works, he’s easily understandable, but he’s very systematic. There’s no reason for us not to be systematic about something so important.

Is there a particular work of art that helps us to meditate on Judgement ?


Obviously, you’ve got Michelangelo’s The Last Judgement. It was hugely controversial in its day, because it’s hard to see who’s saved and who isn’t.

Then you had the big controversy over the nudes, and they had to cover up all the nudes. And, also, Christ not being bearded: Which one is Jesus, actually ? So it’s a very controversial painting. And I don’t think it’s the best for us to think about The Last Judgment.

I would prefer something like Hans Memling. Many people followed his style, and he’s following something earlier, where you have a very clear distinction between the saved and the damned.

You’ve got Saint Michael there. You’ve got Our Lord. And it’s very clear what’s going on. So I would look at Hans Memling’s triptych of The Last Judgement as an example.


Hans Memling’s “Last Judgement”.
National Museum, Gdańsk, Poland.
Public Domain.


Let’s move on to the third of The Four Last Things: Heaven. Why do you think Heaven comes before Hell in the traditional order ?

I’m not sure it always does. When Fr. Martin von Cochem writes on The Four Last Things, he puts Heaven at the end.

I’m not sure it’s that important, except possibly from the point of view of public Preaching, to leave people with a good motivation to change their lives and come back to Mass, and so on.


Benedict XVI once said: “All of us, today, are well aware that by the term ‘Heaven’ we are not referring to somewhere in the universe, to a star or such like; no. We mean something far greater and far more difficult to define with our limited human conceptions.”

So what is Heaven ?

Heaven is eternal and unceasing joy in the presence of God. Unfortunately, what most people have in their minds is a caricature. And I don’t necessarily just mean people’s ideas are bad.

I mean that people deliberately caricature Heaven and deliberately make fun of it. And that’s seen as a funny and clever thing to do.

Therefore, nobody even wants to think seriously about what Heaven is. I think that’s where we are at the moment in terms of The Church, which is why we really need to talk about it more coherently than we have done.


When you read The Lives of The Saints, many are very focused on Heaven. Yet it’s rare to meet a Christian, today, who talks much about it.

Would thinking more often of Heaven help us to make spiritual progress ?

Yes, it would. Our spiritual lives are helped by thinking about our actual goal, as are our lives of Charity, and so on.

One danger people have is the self-help movement thing: A purely human approach to spirituality. We’ve been seduced into that. So you can have methods of Prayer which are all about breathing, or doing a mantra, or saying a particular word.

Now, they can all be one way of helping us to get closer to God. The problem is when they’re seen as the end in itself.

A genuine and good approach to meditative Prayer is really important.


Is there a particular work of art that helps us to meditate on Heaven ?

Rather than attempting to have pictures of Heaven, which never succeed very well, it’s better to have a picture of Our Lady. We have a hugely rich corpus of art depicting Our Lady. You can choose different pictures for every day.

There was a wonderful exhibition: The Raphael Exhibition at The National Gallery [in London], which had a whole room of pictures of The Madonna and Child by Raphael. An extraordinary “tour de force” collection.

Heaven is not something we can picture, because it’s not corporeal or physical. Looking at Our Lady, she is the one that guides us to Heaven. And that’s probably a good place to start in trying to focus on Heaven.


Raphael’s “The Madonna and Child”.
(The Mackintosh Madonna).
The National Gallery, London.
Public Domain.


We’ve arrived at the last of The Four Last Things: Hell. What does The Church teach about Hell ?

The Church teaches that if we die in the state of mortal sin, we will go to Hell or, we could say, we will be in the state of Hell, which is a state of permanent separation from God.

Its nature and its horror is to be permanently separated from God, for Whom we’re made.


Preachers don’t speak much of Hell, these days. But its imagery is very prevalent in pop culture.

Why do you think Hell retains such a grip on the popular imagination ?

Two possible reasons. One is because of an unhealthy fascination with horror and danger, and that can do people harm.

Perhaps generating those images can be quite an unhealthy and morbid thing. Second, however, there’s something true there: It is possible for us to not only lose Grace, but to be damned for all eternity, to be in a state of hatred of God.

People don’t think in those terms, but that’s what it is that they’re trying to get at. And, yes, it’s really awful, and we should fear it.

That’s the thing: We should fear losing our Soul. We should recognise how wonderful it is to be in a State of Grace. And that should be what we most fear losing.


Pope Francis once said that, when children are taught about The Four Last Things, some might object: “Father, this frightens us.” But he said: “It is the truth. Because, if you do not take care of your heart,” and “you always live far away from The Lord, perhaps there is the danger, the danger of continuing in this way, far away from The Lord for eternity. This is very bad ! ”

Does The Church have a duty to talk about Hell ?

Yes, I think it does, because we have a duty to teach and to pass on what Our Lord taught. If we look at the Gospels, Our Lord speaks as much about Hell as he does about Heaven and mentions Hell very often in the Gospels. It’s quite wrong that many people simply miss that out.

It’s very important for us to Preach about The Last Things and not ignore them. The Holy Father is quite right to mention that to the children, and I hope we hear some more from him about it.


Is there a particular work of art that helps us to meditate on Hell ?

I was thinking of Mark Rothko, his Blacks and Grays. It represents for me something like the despair in Hell. It’s like an icon of a sort of rationally chosen despair.

That would be my painting for a depiction of Hell, rather than to have lots of demons or something. I like Hieronymus Bosch, but I think we need to learn something from our more recent artists.


Where are you up to with your project to write a book about The Four Last Things ?

I’m reading Garrigou-Lagrange’s book on The Last Things, at the moment. I’m sitting in front of the computer, listening to the text [being read], and typing notes as I go.

I did a sort of structure for the book, but then realised I needed to do some more reading. I’m still quite hopeful that I can do it.

“Tommy” Bows His Head For His Fallen Comrades.



The “Tommy” statue,
officially named “1101”.
On Terrace Green,
Seaham, County Durham.
Picture Credit: 
OWEN HUMPHREYS/PA WIRE.
Illustration: BBC NEWS


Lance-Sergeant Stuart Laing,
1st Battalion Welsh Guards, plays “The Last Post” 
during a small Armistice Day Ceremony at The Cenotaph,
in Whitehall, London, marking over 100 years since the inauguration of the permanent version of The Cenotaph.

The bugle was found next to the body of a 
Welsh Guardsman who fought during 
The Battle of The Somme in 1916.
Picture Credit: YUI MOK / PA WIRE.
Illustration: BBC NEWS

Remembrance Day. 11 November.




Fauré Requiem Op.48.
Available on YouTube


They shall grow not old,

as we that are left grow old.

Age shall not weary them,

nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the Sun,

and in the morning,

We will remember them.



We will remember them.



“Litania Sanctorum”. Litany Of The Saints. Gregorian Chant Choir.



“Litania Sanctorum”.
Litany Of The Saints.
Gregorian Chant Choir.
Available on YouTube

Fr. Willie Doyle, S.J: “Servant Of God”. A Brave Soldier Who Was Merry In God. And Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy, Also Known As “Woodbine Willie”. Anglican Priest.



Father Willie Doyle, S.J.
Illustration: CATHOLIC NEWS AGENCY


Fr. Willie Doyle, S.J:
A Brave Soldier Who Was Merry In God.
Available on YouTube

The following Text is from Wikipedia - the free encyclopædia,
unless stated otherwise.

William Joseph Gabriel Doyle, MC (1873 – 1917), better known as Willie Doyle, was an Irish Roman Catholic Priest, who was killed in action while serving as a Military Chaplain to The Royal Dublin Fusiliers during The First World War.[1]

Doyle was born in Dalkey, Ireland, the youngest of seven children of Hugh and Christine Doyle (née Byrne).[1] He was educated at Ratcliffe College, Leicester.[2]

After reading Saint Alphonsus’ book, “Instructions And Consideration On The Religious State”, he was inspired to enter the Priesthood; he initially studied at Clonliffe College before 1891, when he entered Saint Stanislaus Tullabeg College,[3] and was an Ordained Jesuit Priest in 1907.[4] He served for five years on The Mission Staff.

The following Text in a coloured box is from Copilot, 
which sometimes is inaccurate.



Doyle served in the The Royal Army Chaplains’ Department of The British Army during The First World War, appointed as a Chaplain to The 48th Brigade of The 16th Irish Division.[4]

During The Battle of Loos, Doyle was caught in a German gas attack and for his conduct was Mentioned in Dispatches.[5]

A recommendation for a Military Cross was rejected as “he had not been long enough at The Front”.[5] Doyle was presented with “The Parchment of Merit” of The 49th (Irish) Brigade, instead. He was killed in The Battle of Langemarck, on 16 August 1917.[6]


General William Hickie, Commander-in-Chief of The 16th (Irish) Division, described Father Doyle as “one of the bravest men who fought or served out here.”[5]

Father Doyle’s body was never recovered, but he is Commemorated at Tyne Cot Memorial.[1]

Father Doyle was proposed for Canonisation in 1938, but this was not followed through.[2] His papers can be found in the Jesuit archives, Leeson Street, Dublin.[2]


A Stained-Glass Window, dedicated to his memory, is present in Saint Finnian’s Church, Dromin, County Louth, Ireland.

Despite his troubled relationship with The Roman Catholic Church in Ireland, Irish author and playwright Brendan Behan is known to have always felt a great admiration for Father William Doyle. 

He praised Father Doyle in his 1958 Memoir “Borstal Boy”. Also, Alfred O'Rahilly’s biography of the fallen Chaplain is known to have been one of Behan’s favourite books.[7]

Irish folk singer Willie “Liam” Clancy was named after him due to his mother’s fondness for Doyle, although they never met.[8]


Doyle was awarded The Military Cross for his bravery during the assault on the village of Ginchy, during the The Battle of The Somme in 1916.[1][5]

He was also posthumously recommended for both The Victoria Cross and The Distinguished Service Order,[9] but was awarded neither.[2]

According to Patrick Kenny, anti-Catholicism may have played a role in The British Army’s decision not to grant Father Doyle both awards.[10]


In August 2022, the Father Willie Doyle Association was established to petition The Catholic Church to introduce a cause for Canonisation for Doyle.

In January 2022, “The Supplex Libellus”, the formal petition, was presented to Bishop Thomas Deenihan.

Having consulted with the Irish Bishops’ Conference and The Dicastery for the Causes of Saints, Deenihan issued an edict on 27 October 2022 announcing the opening of a Cause.


The opening session was due to take place on 20 November 2022 at The Cathedral of Christ the King, Mullingar, Ireland.

Please Note: Fr. Willie Doyle (see, above) is not to be confused with Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy (Anglican Priest), otherwise known as “Woodbine Willie” (see, below).


Image of Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy from 
The Bookman Special Christmas Number.
Date: December 1918.
Source: 
Author: Hodder & Stoughton.
(Wikimedia Commons)


An old pack of British Woodbine cigarettes,
photographed at the Musée Somme 1916, Albert, France. 
This design is often regarded as a magnificent example of 
Late-Victorian typographical design by aficionados.
Photo: 4 September 2013.
Source: Own work.
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Author: Alf van Beem
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Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy M.C. (1883 — 1929) was an English Anglican Priest and Poet. He was nicknamed “Woodbine Willie” during World War I for giving Woodbine cigarettes to the Soldiers he met, as well as Spiritual aid to injured and dying Soldiers.


Born in Leeds, England, on 27 June 1883, Studdert Kennedy was the seventh of nine children born to Jeanette Anketell and William Studdert Kennedy, Vicar of St Mary's, Quarry Hill in Leeds.

His father, William Studdert Kennedy, was born in Blackrock, County Dublin, Ireland, in 1826. Geoffrey’s Paternal Grandfather, Robert Mitchell Kennedy, was Dean of Clonfert in County Galway, Ireland, from 1850 until his death in 1864.[1] 



“Who Was Woodbine Willie ?”
Available on YouTube

One of Geoffrey’s brothers was Hugh A. Studdert Kennedy, a biographer of American Religious Leader Mary Baker Eddy.

Because of his Irish forefathers, Geoffrey always maintained he was an Irishman.[2] 

He was educated at Leeds Grammar School and Trinity College, Dublin, where he gained a Degree in Classics and Divinity in 1904.[3] 


After a year’s training at Ripon Clergy College,[4] he became a Curate at Saint Andrew’s Church, Rugby, and then, in 1914, the Vicar of Saint Paul’s, Worcester.[3] 

On the outbreak of World War I, Studdert Kennedy volunteered as a Chaplain to the Army on the Western Front, where he gained the nickname “Woodbine Willie”.[5]

In 1917, he was awarded the Military Cross (M.C.) at Messines Ridge after running into No-Man’s Land to help the wounded during an attack on the German frontline.[6][7]

Studdert Kennedy is Commemorated with a Feast Day (Commemoration) on the Liturgical Calendar of the Church of England on 8 March.[14][15]
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