Child Abuse
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****The Ferns Report in Full.
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FOR ONCE, Pat Kenny could be forgiven for resorting to cliche: "The devil is in the detail," the RTE broadcaster declared on his radio show last week after perusing the 271-page report of the FernsInquiry.
And so it was. Sandwiched between the thick covers of the report were 53 pages chronicling abominable evil. There were stories of children raped, buggered and molested, and afterwards humiliated, cajoled and threatened into silence. Some children were grotesquely accused of being instigators of the abuse. Some rapist priests stalked their victims into adulthood. Several did not survive to tell their tales.
Judge Frank Murphy, who listed more than 100 such complaints against 21 priests in the diocese of Ferns over four decades, used impartial language to summarise their stories. His tempered tone fails to dull the sickening horror of the deeds carried out by these venomous priests whose tentacles reached into remotest parishes.
It is no coincidence that some of the earliest incidents of molestation and assault happened at St Peter's College in Wexford. The seminary certainly spawned some of the diocese's worst child abusers.
Among them was Fr Donal Collins, a science teacher and later president of the college. He preyed on the adolescent insecurities of young students, luring them to his rooms, sometimes under the pretext of discussing the Young Scientist Exhibition. He questioned, with faux-concern, the size of their genitals and sexually abused them under the grotesque insistence that it was a cure.
The report recounts what happened to Rory, a boarder in the 1960s. "After class one day Fr Collins asked him if he was worried about anything. He specifically asked if he was developing normally. This placed a doubt in Rory's mind as to the normality of his development, a doubt which Fr Collins exploited, eventually persuading Rory to allow him to examine him." After that,Fr Collins regularly masturbated the boy over a period of four to six years.
Various members of the Catholic hierarchy have blamed their past inaction on ignorance but as early as 1966, two priests saw fit to complain. Fr Patrick Curtis and Fr Tom Sherwood said he used to visit "the attic" dormitory at night to "perform examinations of an intimate nature involving the measurement of the length of boys' penises" to make sure they were "growing normally". Bishop Donal Herlihy sent the priest off toLondon in 1968.
Two years later, he was back in St Peter's and resumed his old ways.
Darren, a second-year boarder, gave this account from the 1980s: Fr Collins asked him to to collect copy books after a study period and bring them to his room. "He told Darren to take off his shirt and jumper and, using a measuring tape, measured his chest and waist and the inside of his legs. Fr Collins then unzipped his trousers and measured his penis with the measuring tape. Fr Collins fondled Darren's testicles and penis while talking to Darren about the size of his penis and what size it could be."
In this fetid atmosphere, in an era when sex was not spoken of and where rape and molestation were so lightly dealt with, the sexual aberrations of Fr James Doyle flourished. In 1972, while a student, he returned to the college drunk and attempted to molest a student called Matthew. A priest who witnessed the incident informed the president of the College. Nevertheless, Fr Doyle walked out of St Peter's in 1974 ordained a priest and into his first parish in Wexford. Five years later, he picked up a young soldier hitch-hiking in a car and propositioned him. The soldier escaped and told gardai, who chased the priest to Wicklow.
Barry told how in 1981, aged 11, he found a watch at a GAA pitch which he gave to Fr Doyle. "While he was handing over the watch, Fr Doyle undid his own and Barry's clothing and whilst he did not remove any clothing, he did expose Barry and himself. Fr Doyle touched Barry and asked Barry to touch him." Barry told nobody what happened because he feared he would not be believed.
In the early 1990s, Doyle assaulted Adam, then aged 12. The priest was visiting the boy's home at the time: "Adam's father heard his son scream "stop". He immediately went to the landing and saw Fr Doyle standing over Adam. The boy was crouched in a corner with his back to the wall and Fr Doyle had one hand on his crotch and the other on his buttocks. Adam (later) explained to the gardai how the priest pushed him into a corner and grabbed his private parts." The boy's father reported the incident to the gardai. Doyle was charged with indecent assault.
Some of the most lurid and violent attacks were perpetrated by Fr Sean Fortune, the notorious rapist and paedophile who committed suicide in 1999 rather than face trial on more than 60 charges of sexually abusing children.
Colin was raped in Wexford in 1979, when he was 12. "The incident occurred in a public toilet. Fr Fortune pushed him into the cubicle and bolted the door. He then raped Colin. When he was finished, he adjusted his clothing, unlocked the door and left, saying that he would see Colin again, and that he was a good boy. Colin left the toilet and ran home. He removed his bloodied and stained underclothes. He never spoke of the incidentto anybody."
Years later, in 1992, Colin, who got married, was standing with his baby son on the main street in Wexford, when Fortune approached him. He hardly recognised the priest, who had gained weight, but his voice was unmistakable.
"Fr Fortune said to him that he needed work done on his house in Ballymurn and that if Colin was not prepared to do it, he would tell Colin's wife and other people what he had done when he was 12." Colin succumbed to the threats: "On almost every occasion when he attended Fr Fortune in Ballymurn, he was obliged to perform oral sex. He said that he was not raped again by Fr Fortune. He said Fr Fortune telephoned him up to three times a week demanding that he visit."
Only when two other clerics warned Colin off visiting Fortune because of his reputation with young boys, did he realise that he was not the only one abused by the priest. A month later, he stopped seeing him. "One of the reasons he broke off contact was that Fr Fortune regularly asked him to leave his son with him when he ran errands. Colin never did this and had grave concerns about Fr Fortune asking it."
A remorseless Fortune continued his rape of the boys in his parish during the late 1980s. "Daniel (then aged 13) was in the cubicle of a public toilet beside his school when a tall, dark man whom he subsequently identified as being Fr Fortune, forced his way into the cubicle and buggered Daniel. Daniel returned to school but was clearly upset and broke down when asked what was wrong with him. Daniel told his teacher that he had been approached by a man in the toilet. He did not say he had been raped."
Years later, when his business shut down with debts of £15,000, Fortune again circled Daniel, offering Daniel a job which he accepted in desperation. "Daniel went to Fortune's house three days a week and on each occasion, sexual activity occurred."
Daniel was one of the few who found comfort in Bishop Comiskey; he contacted the bishop three weeks before Fortune's suicide. "The first thing Bishop Comiskey said to him was 'Fortune is an abomination'. Daniel said he really felt at ease because he felt that Bishop Comiskey hated Fortune as much as he did."
Colin and Daniel survived the abuse. Others did not. Brendan was raped by Fortune when he was 14 in Poulfur, Co Wexford. He committed suicide in the late 1980s. "Brendan's mother told the Inquiry that Brendan accompanied Fr Fortune on different outings. He went to Loftus Hall and on a religious course to Maynooth for a week. Brendan's mother told the Inquiry that on one occasion when Brendan returned from a weekend away with Fr Fortune, he was unable to walk properly and there was a great deal of blood on his clothes. He told his mother that he had haemorrhoids but that he did not want to go to a doctor. Brendan's mother said that she asked Brendan if Fr Fortune had interfered with him and he said no, but she said he did give her a strange look as if to say, 'What do you know?'"
Brendan's friend Keith also committed suicide in the mid-1980s. Brendan's parents had heard the rumours about Fr Fortune; like many others, they "thought it was a terrible thing for the boys to be saying about a priest." Both Brendan and Keith's parents now blame Sean Fortune unequivocally for their sons' deaths.
Some victims of clerical abuse continued to battle against disbelieving parents. One poignant story in the Ferns report concerned Deborah, who committed suicide in 2002. Deborah claimed that she had been abused by Fr Jim Grennan, a confirmed child molester. The parish priest of Monageer, Fr Jim Grennan had molested 10 girls while he heard their confessions at the altar in 1988. The health board confirmed the abuse but the garda investigation went nowhere because the girl's statements "disappeared".
Deborah claimed she was abused by him from the age of five. He was a regular caller to the family home and used to sleep over, sometimes in her bed. When she was seven, he tried to penetrate her.
After a difficult adolescence, Deborah eventually told her story to George Birmingham, the senior counsel whose preliminary examination preceded the Ferns Inquiry, in 2002. She committed suicide later that year, before the Ferns Inquiry was set up. She was 31.
When the Ferns Inquiry started, Deborah's mother got in touch. This is what she told them: "Although Fr Grennan was a regular visitor to their home and on occasion stayed overnight, nothing improper occurred between Fr Grennan and her daughter. She said that Fr Grennan would sometimes sleep in Deborah's bed: if she was already asleep she would not move her, but she was quite certain that if anything had happened, Deborah would have told her."
Fr Grennan died a free man in his own parish in 1994. An altar boy who had been abused by Grennan tried to kill himself rather than face his funeral.
Children who confided in their parents proved the exception rather than the rule. Some of the abusers were priests of such local standing and respect that to speak out would have invoked the wrath of a community. Canon Martin Clancy took charge of sex education classes in Ballindaggin national school during the early 1970s.
Judy recalled that she was dispatched to the Canon for sex education by her school principal: "He took her by the hand and led her into a study at the back of the house. Still holding her hand he sat down and brought her close to him, between his legs. He then proceeded to physically examine Judy by removing her underclothing and feeling her very intimately and painfully."
Judy never told anyone what happened. "I was a child when I went into that room in that house but when I left I was not a child," she told the Ferns Inquiry.
Ciara was molested by Canon Clancy at age 11 and raped at 14. She was pregnant. "In 1974, she went to England due to her pregnancy and left a note telling her parents that she was pregnant but not identifying the father. She was taken home by her mother six weeks later. Her daughter Rachel was born in 1975 and Canon Clancy eventually acknowledged Rachel as his daughter when Ciara was aged 17 years. He gave her two cheques, each in the sum of £500 for Rachel's upkeep."
When he died in 1993, Clancy left Ciara £3,000 in his will. "It is his wish that this money is to be used for your further musical education," said the accompanying letter.
Even abused adults feared surmounting the wall silence: Caroline was pregnant with her second child, when Father Gamma - not his real name - called to the house to give her a "maternity blessing". She was ordered to sit on a chair: "He then brought one hand on to her stomach and the other was placed on her head. She could hear him talking lowly and did not know if he was praying. He then brought one hand underneath her bra and she could feel his hand on her breast - then brought the same hand out from her breasts over her stomach and down to her genital area. He fondled with his fingers around her genital area for a few seconds. Then he took away his hand, went to the kitchen to speak to her mother and left."
As a chronicle of sexual abuse, the Ferns Inquiry report makes for discomfiting and upsetting reading. For some of the victims, it is also necessary.
Last week, Patrick Bennett, a 39-year-old restaurateur, graphically described being raped by Sean Fortune. He told the Irish Times newspaper: "He said to me, 'Now you know what my goodness feels like. I know that's hard to hear. It might never end up in print. But that's what happened and people need to know about this."
The man had been paralysed from the neck down in a car accident. He lay in a hospital bed unable to move. But he was still able to speak, and the story he told sounded more incredible as it went on.
Lying in the ward in the National Rehabilitation Hospital in Dun Laoghaire, Sean Cloney spoke of a priest who had lied, stolen, bullied, cheated and abused.
Back then, in themid-1990s, the stories about Fr Sean Fortune seemed simply too incredible to be true. From the moment the priest arrived in Fethard-on-Sea in south Wexford, Cloney was amazed at the way he wreaked havoc in the townland of Poulfur.
Cloney sensed from the beginning that there was something wrong with the new curate.
“He was the greatest liar that I ever met - a horrible man. He had all the deadly sins except sloth,” said Cloney, before explaining that he had his own trouble with the clergy in the 1950s.
Cloney was the man whose early married life was captured on celluloid in the film A Love Divided a few years ago. The movie told the story of a boycott of Protestant businesses in Fethard-on-Sea in the 1950s, after followers of Ian Paisley abducted Cloney's Protestant wife Sheila and their daughter to prevent her having to attend a Catholic school.
Despite being in a hospital bed, Cloney was one of the very few people in the area willing to speak about Fortune at that time. At that point, the priest had departed Fethard almost eight years earlier, but he had left it divided and it remained so.
There were other individuals with their own tales of those turbulent years, people who had made courageous efforts to bring Fortune's actions to the attention of the Church authorities. Given the divisions in the parish, however, they preferred to remain unidentified.
After the priest left Fethard-on-Sea, they followed his progress - particularly from 1995 to 1999, during which time he used every legal trick in the book to delay facing 29 charges of sex abuse against young boys. In March 1999, Fortune committed suicide by taking an overdose of pills, robbing those boys – who were by then young men - of the opportunity to see him found guilty.
The stories about Fortune continued to circulate over the years. This was no great surprise to Cloney and others in Fethard-on-Sea. After all, they had made representations to Bishop Brendan Comiskey almost from the moment he arrived in the Diocese of Ferns in 1984, but to no avail.
As well as a number of sex abuse-related complaints, they had worn a path to the bishop's door to tell how, among other things, Fortune was stealing money from people on AnCo courses; had put curses on people who crossed him; shown banned movies to teenagers; put a lock on the gate of the graveyard; and refused to give communion to those who displeased him.
Much was known of Fortune's crimes, but the Ferns Report, published last week, filled in some remaining pieces of the jigsaw and lent further detail to the trail of destruction that the man left during his time as a priest.
But it also highlighted Comiskey's failure to remove Fortune from a position where he was able to abuse young boys.
Given the inquiry's circumstances, the criticism is understated but devastating when viewed in its entirety.
The first known allegation of abuse against Fortune was in 1976, when he was a seminarian at St Peter's College in Wexford. The report reveals that it was made by a 13-year-old boy who alleged inappropriate touching, oral sex and masturbation, which later progressed to “full, violent rape'‘. The school principal reacted angrily to this boy when informed of what had happened.
The report by Mr Justice Frank Murphy details some attempts at psychiatrically assessing Fortune, which were ordered first by Bishop Donal Herlihy and subsequently by his successor Comiskey. The results varied, depending on how much the psychiatrist knew of Fortune's history in advance and who had ordered the assessment.
But there was certainly enough warning about his propensities for any new bishop who happened to peruse the file on him.
In 1986, Comiskey himself was presented with the first allegation of Fortune abusing young males in Fethard-on-Sea. But the bishop told the inquiry that there was “no question of removing a priest who had been accused of sexual abuse in those days'‘.
It was then believed that such priests could be treated successfully. It took sometime, Comiskey said, before he realised that paedophilia might be incurable.
In 1986, when the bishop received “concrete proof'‘ of the abuse from the young man identified in the report as “Simon'‘, his goal was to remove Fortune from Fethard to receive treatment and then obtain guarantees from his medical advisers before returning him to parish duties.
Two more years would pass before Fortune was finally moved. The bishop admitted that he had become more concerned, but “did not feel he could institute canonical proceedings against him [Fortune] because of warnings from the Vatican that bishops had to proceed very carefully and make sure they had hard evidence before removing a priest'‘.
“It is difficult to understand,” states the report, “how Bishop Comiskey failed to read the signals at this stage and address himself to the problem of protecting children.”
Fortune eventually left Fethard-on-Sea in 1987, and was sent to England, where Comiskey wanted him to attend a residential treatment centre for abusers. However, he refused.
A counsellor who treated Fortune recommended “a residential treatment course as a matter of some urgency'‘, and described him as a “pathological liar'‘. No such treatment was ever received, said the report.
Fortune returned to Ireland in early 1988 without Comiskey's permission. The bishop made an appointment with Dr FP O'Donoghue, a consultant psychiatrist in St Patrick's Hospital, Dublin, whom Fortune saw three times.
The psychiatrist suggested that Fortune be put on sexual suppressants and be allowed to return to parish work, on the conditions that he would have no responsibility for any youth organisation and that he would be subject to continuing supervision.
In June that year, Fortune himself decided to attend the practice of psychotherapist Dr Ingo Fischer, who informed Comiskey that Fortune's “sexual orientation was heterosexual, his personality was stable and that he would be fit for parish work'‘, subject to continuing treatment from Fischer.
In December 1988, Fortune attended a consultant psychiatrist in London. The psychiatrist, Dr JRW Christie-Brown, who gave him a relatively clean bill of health, had not been briefed on “the very serious allegations that had come to the attention of the diocese'‘. The inquiry described Comiskey's failure to convey Fortune's full history to the psychiatrist as “extremely negligent'‘.
Following a meeting with Fortune in July 1988, the bishop wrote a memo - later found in his own files - stating that he had asked three priests to examine the “very serious allegations made against Fr Fortune and denied by him'‘, and to make recommendations.
But, Comiskey told the inquiry, “this never led to anything'‘, because Fortune appointed a solicitor and the bishop was “advised by a canon lawyer that the process should be discontinued'‘.
In that memo, the bishop recorded his decision not to appoint Fortune to another parish, on the basis that supervision would be required. But he subsequently did just that.
“Bishop Comiskey stated in correspondence that his concern was that Fr Fortune's very priesthood was at stake and, whether he liked it or not, Fr Fortune was ‘one of our own',” said the report.
So, despite the numerous complaints and warning signs over the previous years, Fortune was allowed to make a full-time return to parish life in September 1989, when he was appointed to the Co Wexford village of Ballymurn.
Despite the recommendation of Dr Fischer, no further treatment was undertaken by Fortune at this stage. As part of the job, he was appointed chairman of the board of management of Ballymurn National School, and gave classes in religious instruction in the Bridgetown VEC.
Serious problems arose during Fortune's time in Ballymurn. Complaints were made in 1991 by a number of parents about the content of religious classes given by Fortune. They said he encouraged children to tell lewd jokes, used sexually inappropriate language and “asked prurient questions while hearing confessions'‘.
When confronted once again by Comiskey, Fortune vehemently denied the allegations.
He was forced to leave his VEC position in 1991, but remained as curate and on the primary school board until December 1995, at the nomination of Comiskey.
“He also continued to give classes there until he was arrested by the gardai in March 1995,” said the report.
When asked why he had failed to remove Fortune, Comiskey told the inquiry that he was helpless in the face of Fortune's refusal to cooperate, and that canon law offered no assistance in a situation such as this.
The bishop made the point that, before Fortune's appointment in Ballymurn, no allegation of child sexual abuse had been levelled at the priest.
However, while no allegations of child sexual abuse had been made after Comiskey's intervention in 1987, the inquiry said it did not accept the logic of the bishop's argument.
“Moreover, a very regrettable fact is that allegations were made against Fr Fortune, which related to his rape and abuse of young male adults after his appointment to Ballymurn, some of whom had been the victims of abuse by Fr Fortune as children,” stated the report.
Its conclusion was that Fortune's appointment to Ballymurn was “ill-advised and dangerous'‘.
In February 1995, Colm O'Gorman, the founder of the One in Four charity, made a complaint to Detective Garda Pat Mulcahy of Wexford, alleging sexual abuse by Fortune over a two-year period in the early 1980s. It was this allegation that finally led to Fortune leaving Ballymurn. According to parishioners, he said Mass in an extremely hurried fashion and was “collected by two guys and bundled into a car'‘.
Comiskey then sent the priest on administrative leave.
Shortly afterwards, a letter from Comiskey was read out at Masses in the village. It paid warm tribute to their former curate: “Fr Fortune, for his own personal reasons, sought to be relieved of his post as curate, and will not be returning to Ballymurn; it does not reflect in any way on his standing as a priest.”
Comiskey also said in the letter that he was aware that the people of Ballymurn would join him in thanking Fortune and expressing appreciation for all the good that he had accomplished.
In its conclusions, the inquiry states that it believes the bishop was correct to seek medical and canon law advice on Fortune, and accepts that he did not feel assisted by this advice.
“Nevertheless, the ultimate decision-making power rests with the bishop and he must take responsibility for those decisions,” the report said. “In the view of the inquiry, the evidence available to Bishop Comiskey was compelling and dictated the immediate removal of Fr Fortune from ministry.”
Following Fortune's suicide on March 13, 1999, Comiskey's spokeswoman said he had a “monstrous'‘ number of files relating to Fortune, which went “from floor to ceiling'‘.
Comiskey has had more than six years to inspect those files, as well as others pertaining to priests such as Fr Jim Grennan in Monageer, who abused young girls preparing for their confirmation on the altar. But, as is clear from the bishop's evidence to the inquiry, the passage of time has not lessened his views about how he had handled these allegations.
The media, with which he had once had such an excellent relationship, managed to convince people that he had mishandled child sexual abuse cases and then tried to cover them up, he said.
“Bishop Comiskey said to this inquiry that he did not mishandle any sex abuse case.
“He said that he did his best with the resources he had at the time, and that one of his experiences in reading the files for the purposes of this inquiry had been, on a personal level, to be pleasantly surprised at how well he did, looking back over 20 years,” the report stated.
Sean Cloney died in October 1999, at the age of 73. But despite his first-hand experience of Comiskey's dealings with Fortune, he would no doubt have been shocked, as others were last week, at such self-delusion from the once hugely admired Bishop of Ferns.
For the rest of that week after the bishop threatened to rape me, he phoned me in the office every day, sometimes twice a day. His morning calls were usually softer-voiced and pathetic. By the afternoon, they had grown harsher, more rambling, less coherent and more disturbing. I could measure the progress of his intoxication on the phone each day.
The more he phoned, the more I felt he was establishing a macabre bond between us. Each time I heard his voice, I felt panicky. In one morning call, he turned the tables by implying that I was the one guilty of causing him injury, or planning it. He mentioned the name of a prominent businessman in Dublin, whom I knew to be a friend of his, and said this man had warned him that I was "a dangerous journalist", not to be trusted.
Straight after that call, I contacted the businessman, wanting to know if this was true. He replied in a letter hand-delivered to the Irish Independent office the same day, denying that any such conversation had taken place and asking rhetorically how, as he had never met me, he could have formed an opinion of me.
The last time the bishop rang, he apologised. He had asked in one of his earlier calls if it was true that he had made a specific threat of violence against me and what, precisely, was that threat. Spelling out to a drunk prince of the Church on the phone that he had threatened to rape me was not only surreal, it felt like the second-worst kind of enforced intimacy. Now this last time he called, he sounded exhausted and sober. He said he could not remember saying it but, "if I did, I'm sorry".
The following morning, my bland interview with Bishop Brendan Comiskey was published in the Irish Independent, depicting him, to my shame, as a compassionate and fearless rebel in the crusty conference of bishops. I never heard from him again.
Before the second week of April 1994, the information I had about the Bishop of Ferns was scanty. I knew he was friendly with Charlie Haughey because I had included his name among regular guests at Abbeville in a feature profile I had written of the former Taoiseach.
I was aware that he was regarded as a modern, quotable bishop. I heard stories about him being carried out of a Dublin restaurant, too drunk to walk and collapsing with drink on a church altar; but I am not sure if these stories surfaced before or after my encounter with him. I remember, having re-read it in a newspaper archive this week, that he had warned in 1992 that he would sue any paper spreading unfounded sexual allegations against him.
About a year before I met him, I had arranged to interview the Newry-born healing nun, Sr Breege McKenna, at Clonliffe College. I remember being mildly surprised and, admittedly, somewhat flattered when, as she walked towards me that morning, her first words were: "Bishop Comiskey says you're a good journalist and I can trust you."
Last Wednesday, I read Mr Justice Murphy's report of the Ferns Inquiry. I wanted, in particular, to find out what had happened to the teenage girl who had allegedly been sexually interfered with by the bishop in her own home.
Like some other journalists, I have known about this incident for many years but could never write it because the girl and her family did not want the publicity. I have always felt that the story of appalling tragedy that befell that family must be told some day.
The Murphy Report records that the girl's parents complained to the South Eastern Health Board in 1990 of the bishop's behaviour towards their daughter, but it was not reported to the Garda because the girl was over 16 (even though George Birmingham, in his ground-laying Ferns inquiry, set the age ceiling for child abuse at 18) and she insisted it remain private.
The bishop, who had been drinking at the time of the reported incident, told the Murphy Inquiry he had no memory of it and denied the allegation.
When the caretaker bishop, Dr Eamonn Walsh, found out about the allegation in 2004, he reported it to Cardinal Desmond Connell, as the Metropolitan for Ferns diocese. A report was prepared, without interviewing Dr Comiskey, and sent to the Holy See. This report concluded that Bishop Comiskey had violated no law but that his inebriation needed to be addressed.
Although he agreed to step aside from active ministry after the allegation came to light in 2004, Brendan Comiskey has, a year later, been returned to full ministry by the Congregation of Bishops.
Before I reached the end of the Murphy Report, I knew what I had to do. What happened to me, a married woman enjoying the protective shield of doing my job, would scarcely register on the scale of horrors suffered by the child victims of sexual abuse in Ferns. Like other journalists, I have benefited from the courage of some of those victims who talked to me for newspaper articles about the scandal. Judge Murphy does not exaggerate in his report when he portrays the many victims who helped his inquiry as heroic.
The last thing I want to do is tell this story. I know there will be fallout for me and my family and, besides, I detest the sort of journalism that puts the journalist at the centre of the story.
I wish it had happened to another journalist; somebody else who would have had to face the choice of telling the whole story and being known thereafter as "the woman the bishop threatened to rape", or continuing the silence, thereby perpetuating the cover-up.
I asked advice from 'a contact' in Ferns, whom I consider a wise friend. He replied: "Newspaper people spend all their time delving into other people's lives but they are very protective of their own lives. That's all I will say."
I knew in my heart that I had no right to hope that the woman allegedly molested by the bishop when she was a child would someday tell her story as long as I still kept mine secret . . .
The fateful meeting happened a week after Easter, the Christian festival of hope and new beginnings, in 1994. The Bishop of Ferns had claimed on his local radio station the previous Saturday that a "tiny elite in Irish society" was "working for anarchy". He said there were "about 20 people running the country . . . Basically, they are people in control of the media."
Two days later, he publicly criticised a government plan to spend
The Ferns inquiry report shows the Roman Catholic Church, from its lowest level to the highest echelons of the Vatican, failed in its responsibility, writes Colm O'Gorman
It is time to consign the sad and tragic history of the horrific sexual abuse of children and young people in the diocese of Ferns to history.
It should have been possible to do so years ago. In a perfect world it would have happened within months of the first case of abuse being reported to the church. Its consignment to history would have happened in consequence of the church, and State, putting in place practices and legislation that would have prevented further abuse.
This is not a perfect world, however, and as we all now know in great detail, thanks to the work of Mr Justice Frank Murphy and the Ferns inquiry, the Roman Catholic Church's response to clerical sexual abuse was very far short of perfect.
Even the most cursory examination of this report by any reasonable, objective person will reveal that successive bishops were wholly negligent in the handling of such cases and that the Roman Catholic Church, from its lowest level to the highest echelons of the Vatican, failed in its responsibility to properly protect and care for children.
The Ferns report reveals that the first complaint it identified was made in 1966, when Fr Donal Collins was removed from his post as a teacher in St Peter's College and dispatched to London for two years following allegations that he had sexually abused up to 20 boys.
The report is severely critical of the failure of the then bishop of Ferns, Dr Donal Herlihy, to properly inform the Archdiocese of Westminster of the reasons for Fr Collins's transfer. It is also critical of Fr Collins's subsequent reappointment as a teacher; his being placed in charge some eight years later of swimming lessons with pupils at St Peter's; and his appointment by Bishop Brendan Comiskey in 1988 as principal of St Peter's College, the diocesan secondary school for boys.
The fact that Fr Collins remained in ministry for 24 years following this complaint, and worked as a teacher and principal in St Peter's College up until 1990, is a graphic illustration of the Roman Catholic Church's gross failures over some 40 years in the Diocese of Ferns. That Fr Collins continued to sexually assault and abuse boys following that 1966 complaint is the tragic and inevitable consequence of those failures.
Fr Collins is only one of the 26 priests against whom there were more than 100 allegations of clerical sexual abuse. The way in which his case was handled is indicative of the approach adopted by the Catholic Church in Ferns, in dioceses across Ireland, and internationally.
The Ferns report demonstrates beyond any doubt that protestations that the church was unaware of the nature of child sexual abuse until it was alerted by the media in the 1990s are wholly false.
It details how in 1962 the Vatican distributed a document entitled Crimen Solicitanis to every bishop in the world. The instructions from the Vatican, that this document was to be maintained in secret archives and was not to be published or publicly commented upon, are evocative of a Dan Brown novel.
Crimen Solicitanis instructs that church officials and even witnesses and complainants are required to take an oath of secrecy in relation to any disclosed sexual abuse. The penalty for a breach of that secrecy was automatic excommunication.
While many commentators have suggested that this document deals only with the ecclesiastical crime of solicitation - priests procuring sex in the confessional - the Ferns report and Mr Justice Murphy are clear that it also relates explicitly to cases of child sexual abuse.
This document may explain the abject failure of cardinals, bishops and priests to break silence and report these crimes to State and civil authorities. The threat of excommunication was in effect a death sentence to men who saw their lives only within the context of their priestly vocations. It was an incredibly effective tool in preventing the disclosure of widespread sexual abuse in Roman Catholic dioceses across the world.
The Ferns report states that it found "no evidence of this document in the files of the Diocese of Ferns that it has examined". Given the fact that bishops remain under an obligation, perhaps still under threat of excommunication, not to publish or comment upon the document, it is unsurprising that the diocese was unable to confirm its existence.
It seems unlikely that the diocese of Ferns, alone of all the Roman Catholic dioceses in the world, was left off the mailing list for such a sensitive and secretive document.
The Ferns report is clear in its finding that Roman Catholic Church authorities at the Vatican ". . . did not properly alert their priests to the danger of child sexual abuse at a time when they did or should have known of this danger. . ."
Earlier in the report it states: "Where an organisation is aware of a serious problem within its structure with criminal and child protection implications, it has a duty to alert and inform its personnel of this and to ensure that every step is taken to eliminate it as soon as possible." The inquiry found no evidence that this growing awareness was communicated by church authorities to the Diocese of Ferns.
This criticism of the Roman Catholic Church at Vatican level is an enormous vindication for those of us who have battled for years to hold the Vatican to account for its inaction. In my efforts to force the Vatican to respond, I launched a civil action against the Papal Nuncio as representative of the Pope.
The Papal Nuncio asserted diplomatic immunity and blocked my legal action. It was galling to see the church that I had learned was about truth and integrity manipulate its privileged position to refuse to explain its part in the rape and abuse of children and young people.
The Ferns report is explicit in its criticism of the church's response to more than 100 allegations of sexual abuse made against 26 of its priests. It is shocking to reflect that this figure reflects, by even the most generously applied statistical information, more than 12 per cent of priests ordained for the Diocese of Ferns since 1932.
In the US we know that 4 per cent of priests have faced allegations; it is clear that the dramatically higher percentage of priests in Ferns facing allegations must be a symptom of a deeper failure on the part of both the church in Ireland and the State.
In the coming weeks it is essential that we all study the detail of this extensive report to identify and rectify those child protection factors and criminal justice failures that clearly contributed to this litany of abuse. If we do so with purpose and with integrity then we can finally consign this appalling saga to history where it belongs.
Colm O'Gorman is director of One in Four, a charity offering support and resources for people who have suffered sexual abuse
One in FourMadam,
It was right that Bishop Comiskey should have resigned - of that there is no doubt in the aftermath of the Ferns Report. However, one sensed that some in the Hierarchy were happy to see him sacrificed in the hope that it might satisfy the media wolf pack. Yet, in truth, there remain within the Hierarchy a number of Bishops whose failure to protect the innocent must be examined as thoroughly and comprehensively as that of Bishop Comiskey and his predecessor.
If the chief executives of a financial institution had so utterly failed their investors, they would have to resign. Many chief executives of the Catholic Church, of which I am a member, have utterly failed their flock, not just in Ireland, but also across the world.
After Sunday Mass recently, an old Dublin parishioner shed tears as he said, "We survived Cromwell and the Penal Laws and yet the greatest damage done to the Irish Church was by those within whom we trusted most." How right he was.
The Catholic Church is dying of a malady that requires urgent surgery and transfusion. The present Hierarchy owe it to us all to give the courageous leadership required. There needs to be a clearing out and it must begin with them.
Any members of the Irish Hierarchy who know they have like Bishop Comiskey, failed adequately to protect the innocent and vulnerable, should immediately tender their resignations and make it clear they will co-operate fully with the necessary investigations that should and must be conducted along the lines of Ferns. To fail to do so now will only delay the inevitable and add to the trauma of innocent victims, honourable clergy and the people of God whom they failed.
In the midst of the darkness and depression of the past few days, there have also been voices of hope and faith. Fr Gerald McGinnity's reprehensible treatment by the Hierarchy is deserving of special mention and those honourable leaders still within the Church, who are deserving of support, must urgently restore his good name and reputation.
- Yours, etc,Fr Michael Manning writes in his letter on contraception and infallibility (October 27th) that "like the apostles in their time the Catholic Church is not out to seek popularity but fidelity to Christ and to his teaching".
It is incredible, in this week of all weeks that anybody could still believe and write such a statement .
What is Christian in the Church's pronouncements on homosexuals and divorcees; in the revolting wealth of the Vatican, the pomp and hypocrisy of the Hierarchy? I need not even mention the Church's handling, worldwide, of clerical sex abuse.
While there are many excellent individuals working in the church, as an institution it has moved so far from the message of Christ as to be barely recognisable as a Christian organisation at all. The church has many doctrines and rules, though Christ had very few; but the church in its infallible wisdom has decided to ignore the most fundamental of all Christ's teaching - that is, to love others as yourself. It seems now to exist only for itself.
Is mise,
Madam,
If, as your Editorial of October 26th suggests, the Ferns Report is a shocking indictment of the church authorities, it is chilling to think that the majority of young children in the State will, this morning, attend schools under the management of the Catholic Church.In the wake of the Ferns Report, should we continue to entrust our children to the care of schools under the control of such a corrupt and morally weak institution?
Yours, etc, KEVIN McDERMOTT, Dublin 16.For Patrick Bennett, who was serially raped by Seán Fortune, the report brings back horrific memories, writes Carl O'Brien in New Ross
Every day 39-year-old Patrick Bennett struggles to come to terms with the repeated sexual abuse inflicted on him by Fr Seán Fortune two decades ago.
As he sits at the window of his newly opened restaurant in New Ross, overlooking the river Barrow, his voice quivers and his fingers tremble.
"It's constant," he says. "Physically, I still bear the brunt of it. I call it Fortune's calling card. I have no control over my bowels because of the damage done to me. I have to suffer that two or three times a day. Watching him on the news last night, I felt physically sick. I can almost smell him.
"That's what I need people to understand. For 20 years I went around more or less like a drug addict, and alcoholic, more or less. I was a dead body. I was envious of friends in graves who didn't make it through."
Today is especially painful. For the last two years life has changed for Bennett. He has picked up the pieces of his life, found a loving partner and fathered a child. He is beginning to experience living again, he says. But the publication of the Ferns report, while a positive step, threatens to bring it all back.
"After spending so long trying to get over what happened, it's hard to have to deal with it all again. The biggest fear is, will it all be worth it? The older generation needs to realise what happened and accept what happened." As a schoolboy, working part-time as a commis chef, Bennett - known as Benny to his friends - first came into contact with Fr Fortune.
The priest was nicknamed "Batman" because of the sweeping black cassock he used to wear. Stories swirled around that he was gay, or to be avoided, he says.
The first time Bennett says he was abused was when he hitched a lift from Fethard-on-Sea. It was the beginning of serial rapes against him and other boys, all following a similar pattern.
The boys were manipulated into thinking it was their fault, they were labelled "evil" by Fr Fortune, and intimidated into not speaking out about what was happening to them.
"We'd be relieved when other boys would be around, because it meant we were safe. It didn't last long. I spent around two years there. Basically, at minimum, it happened two or three times a week."
For Bennett, the word "abuse" doesn't cover the horrific detail of what he experienced. What he and others experienced, he says, was on a different level.
"The things he done to me in the course of raping me . . . After an incident I tried to do something about, he came and raped me. Before he ejaculated, I had to finish him orally. He said to me, 'Now you know what my goodness feels like'. I know that's hard to hear. It might never end up in print. But that's what happened. And people need to know about this."
Things began to change after he saw the BBC documentary Suing the Pope. Bennett began to seek help. He received counselling through One in Four, the support group for abuse survivors, and found solace in family and friends.
He received an out-of-court settlement from the diocese of Ferns and spoke to the inquiry team behind yesterday's report.
The last two years have been better, but some days, like yesterday, are still a struggle.
He is now looking for recognition of what happened, accountability for those who allowed it to happen, and the framework to ensure it never happens again.
"As regards me and my family, the next few weeks and months will be hell. I'll probably have to go back into counselling. I just hope it's all worth it.
"We have to accept what happened in the past; we can't change that, but hopefully we can change the future."
The Ferns Report outlines in simple, stark terms, horrific alleged abuse of more than 100 people over 40 years, and how, in many cases, the Catholic Church, and sometimes State authorities failed to protect them.
Through the 271 pages of allegations, responses and conclusions, a clear picture emerges of how, for much of the last 40 years, there was an inadequate response to child abuse allegations.
It is the first time that the church authorities have been held to account by an independent inquiry in Ireland.
While the report acknowledges the recent response of the Diocese of Ferns to allegations and the developments in child protection within the State, it raises questions about whether current legislation protects children adequately from suspected or known abusers.
The allegations begin in 1966, with then Bishop of Ferns Donal Herlihy being informed of complaints about Fr Donal Collins measuring the penises of 20 boys in a dormitory in Ferns.
The allegations dealt with by the diocese go as far as 2004, when acting Bishop of Ferns Eamonn Walsh received an allegation of sexual misconduct by his predecessor Brendan Comiskey against a teenage girl, an allegation Dr Comiskey denies any knowledge of.
In its pages it tells stories of allegations of sexual abuse against 21 priests and refers to another five cases which came to its attention too late to examine fully.
The most extensive sections of the report relate to some of the better known cases, such as Seán Fortune, Donal Collins, James Doyle, Jim Grennan and Canon Martin Clancy. These involve no less than 24 individuals who gave evidence to the inquiry and show how Fortune was involved in a series of rapes and sexual assaults around the country from the 1970s right through to the 1990s.
Wherever Fortune was living during this period, be it Belfast, Dundalk, Dublin or rural Wexford, victims have come forward with stories, such as Daniel who as a 14-year-old was raped and buggered by the priest in a toilet cubicle.
There is also the story of Fr Donal Collins, whose abuse of young boys was made known to then Bishop Donal Herlihy in 1966.
He was banished to England to do "penance", only to return to St Peter's School, and was promoted by Bishop Comiskey to principal of the college by 1988.
The report outlines a catalogue of allegations of abuse by former students of the school, like Edmund, who went to Fr Collins's room to discuss a 'Young Scientist' project. Instead of discussing the project, Collins forced him into mutual masturbation and oral sex.
So what about the response of the church when these people complained? Overall, and right up until 2002, the response in most cases was lacking in the extreme.
The inquiry puts it simply about the response of both Dr Comiskey and Dr Herlihy; "[ They] placed the interests of individual priests ahead of those of the community in which they served."
In the case of Dr Comiskey, he received allegations of abuse against 10 priests during his time as bishop, but none were forced to stand aside from active ministry by the bishop. He did make inquiries which were "inappropriate and inadequate".
The report says that from the late 1960s right up until 1980, sexual abuse, even rape, was seen as a moral failing by Dr Herlihy as opposed to a criminal issue, despite complaints against a significant number of clerics even by this stage.
Then Dr Herlihy changed tack, says the report. With psychological and psychiatric developments, he began to refer priests for psychological treatment. However, he and Dr Comiskey ignored such psychological advice, such as that relating to Fr James Doyle, which advocated that he should be kept from having a role working with young people. Even after being convicted in 1990, he was allowed to work as a chaplain in a 600-pupil school in London.
When it came to the allegations being investigated by the civil authorities, Dr Comiskey was found to be wanting. He is accused in the report of providing erroneous information about Fr Collins to a Garda inquiry, and failing to co-operate with the inquiry into Seán Fortune.
The Irish Catholic Hierarchy and the Vatican also come in for criticism.
The report finds that there was a growing awareness within church authorities from the 1960s about the problem of child abuse, which it failed to pass on to ordinary clerics.
It highlights a 1962 document from the Vatican advising how the church should treat allegations of child abuse, and how the diocese of Dublin sought and was given legal advice on civil claims as early as 1987, seven years before the issue of clerical sex abuse came into focus in the media and wider society.
The inquiry was "concerned that the church authorities either in this country or in Rome did not properly alert their priests to the danger of child sexual abuse at a time when they did or should have known of this danger which had been clearly identified by church authorities elsewhere".
The report also raises questions about the issue of celibacy within the church and whether this contributed to the problem.
The inquiry commissioned a group of therapists with expertise in dealing with clerical abusers who "unanimously believed that the vow of celibacy contributed to the problem of child sexual abuse".
While the State authorities are not accused of similar levels of failings, there are criticisms.
The Garda properly investigated most cases they were made aware of, the report finds. However, prior to 1990 there appears to have been "a reluctance on the part of individual gardaí" to properly investigate allegations of abuse against priests.
Their handling of the Monageer case, where the investigation filed simply disappeared, is highlighted.
The South Eastern Health Board and the health authorities come in for minor criticisms on how they acted, but the principal concern about the State is the current laws, and whether they provide adequate protection for children.
It questions whether the health services have sufficient powers at present to intervene in some cases to protect a child from abuse by an individual outside the home.
The most poignant finding of the report are the stories of the 100 or so people who came forward.
The inquiry talks of "revulsion, at the extent, severity and duration of the child abuse allegedly perpetrated".
The inquiry also said that the victims complained and medical experts confirmed the abuse had "far-reaching consequences not only for the victim, but also for their relatives and friends, and that this damage can continue over a period of many years and into subsequent generations".
The South Eastern Health Board did not provide counselling or support to 10 school girls and their families after they reported allegations of abuse against a parish priest in Ferns, the inquiry has found.
It establishes that counselling was only offered by the health board through a public statement in 1995, some seven years after the alleged abuse of the girls by the then parish priest of Monageer, Fr Jim Grennan, in 1988.
This response has been criticised in the report as "inadequate and inappropriate".
The report also says the health board response was not consistent in all cases. After the 10 schoolgirls made their allegations against Fr Grennan, seven of them were interviewed and assessed. The health board informed the gardaí and church authorities.
However, in doing this, the board was acting outside its powers, the report finds.
"Although their intervention was well intended and undertaken with commendable expedition, it could not be classified as appropriate," it says.
This was because while health boards have an obligation to promote the welfare of children, the actual powers conferred on them to secure the protection of children are limited.
The report says the 1908 Children Act was the relevant legislation when most of the cases looked at by the inquiry arose.
This "Edwardian legislation" provided "limited protection" in that it "afforded no protection to children who had been abused otherwise than through neglect or abuse by parents or carers".
The report also states that health boards have no statutory power to obtain or seek a court order to prohibit a person suspected of abusing children from having contact with children.
"The health board does not currently have statutory powers to prevent a suspected abuser from acting in a capacity such as a teacher or sports coach or indeed a priest which would bring him or her into close contact with, and afford him or her ready access to, young people.
"Essentially it is a matter for parents and guardians to determine the school their children will attend or the sports facilities they should utilise," it says.
"The inquiry suggests that consideration should be given to conferring express power on the Health Service Executive to apply to a court of competent jurisdiction for an order prohibiting a named person from engaging in an activity which would give him a ready access to children at all, or otherwise on such terms that the court might direct," it adds.
Yet the Ferns report points out that there is still a duty on a health board under the 1991 Child Care Act to take appropriate action where a person it suspects of abuse plans to take up a position which may expose others to abuse without having "any express legislative powers" to do so.
This is an issue which the inquiry believes should be "carefully considered by the legislature".
It also says the first guidelines on procedures for identification, investigation and management of child abuse were issued by the Department of Health in 1987. The former Bishop of Ferns, Dr Brendan Comiskey, knew of them and was "informed by them in dealing with an allegation of child sexual abuse in 1990".
The guidelines stated that any person who knew or suspected that a child was being harmed or was at risk of abuse should convey this to the local health board.
In 1990, the report says, Dr Comiskey suggested that the parents of a victim who came to him with an allegation should speak to a GP who would then be obliged to report the allegation to the health board and through it, to the gardaí. This happened.
However, it says Dr Comiskey "did not believe it was appropriate to use these Department of Health guidelines in dealing with allegations received about priests where these allegations were made by adults.
"The guidelines do not deal with the issue of whether the reporting recommendation should vary if the victim is an adult at the time of making the report, but in circumstances where the perpetrator is still in a position to abuse children, the rationale for such reporting remains."
The report adds that South Eastern Health Board officials spoken to by the inquiry team "were not aware of any formal policy having been adopted by the health board regarding adult complaints".
It says there was much closer exchange of information between the health board and gardaí since the mid-1990s.
The report by Judge Frank Murphy into the rape and sexual abuse of children by Catholic priests in the diocese of Ferns over a period of 40 years is a shocking indictment of the Church authorities concerned.
As happened with cases of sexual abuse against children in State and religious-run institutions during the same period, the responses by those in authority to these criminal acts was wholly inadequate, involving clerical transfers, cover-ups and denials, while paedophiles went on to destroy the lives of other vulnerable children.
One of the most distressing aspects of the abuse of children by priests and members of religious orders has been the manner in which victims and their families were treated. Rather than receive unconditional support following their traumatic experiences, they were frequently accused of lying. The authorities of church and State closed ranks against them. Given this background, it is no surprise that a large number of committed Catholics still find it difficult to believe that members of the clergy could behave in such a fashion.
It is easy to apportion blame with the benefit of hindsight. But blame is a poor response to these scandals. What is required is the introduction of robust reporting, education and administration systems at church and State level in order to protect children and to alert those in authority to paedophiliac activities. In particular, the measures adopted by the present Apostolic Administrator of Ferns, Bishop Eamonn Walsh, in requiring priests to stand aside from the active ministry, pending full investigations, should be adopted by other dioceses.
Those who talk about bringing closure to these events and moving on are not being realistic. The sexual abuse of children by churchmen and laymen did not start in the diocese of Ferns 40 years ago. Such criminal activity has been widespread in our society. And it will not stop now that this report has been published. The main defences against it - however inadequate - will be new procedures, prosecutions and eternal vigilance.
The only reassuring aspect of the report is the finding that current practices in the diocese of Ferns provide a high level of child protection. For that, Bishop Walsh deserves full credit. The responses by his predecessors to a veritable torrent of allegations against 26 priests by more than 100 children were wholly inadequate. The late Bishop Donal Herlihy not only ordained seminarians against whom allegations of sexual abuse had been made, but when they subsequently offended, he appointed them to curacies. The report recognised the difficulties Bishop Brendan Comiskey experienced in dealing with abusive priests between 1984 and 2002, but it expressly criticises his failure to remove them from active ministry and to deny them access to children.
Failures by the hierarchy and the criminal activity of some priests have damaged the trust between the Catholic Church and its flock. Children and families suffered grievously. It must not be allowed to happen again.
THE FULL horror of brutal clerical child abuse in the diocese of Ferns finally emerged last night.
The shattering probe into the activities of pervert priests shows that the church lied, deceived, and covered up to protect them.
Former Supreme Court Judge Frank Murphy's damning report which uncovered a systematic and shocking catalogue of abuse is now being sent to the Director of Public Prosecutions.
More than 100 allegations of child sexual abuse were made against 21 priests in the diocese.
Two bishops were also strongly criticised for their the handling of these allegations.
The 271-page report graphically details repeated sexual abuse of boys and girls.
It reveals that serial abuser, Fr Sean Fortune, left a suicide note claiming that he had been abused by Bishop Brendan Comiskey.
The note was then destroyed by another priest because he believed it was an attempt to discredit Bishop Comiskey.
Last night Bishop Comiskey appealed for "forgiveness". The inquiry delivered a damning verdict that found him negligent.
It also emerged last night that a report was sent to the Vatican about an allegation of "inappropriate behaviour" made against Bishop Comiskey by a woman.
The allegation came to the attention of the South Eastern Health Board in the course of another investigation in 1990.
The claim was made by the parents of the girl who was over 16 years at the time.
The Ferns inquiry said the report to the Holy See concluded an offence had not been committed, but the fact that under the "influence of alcohol," Bishop Comiskey was alleged to have acted in such a manner, "was something that needed to be addressed."
Last night as the Diocese of Ferns was exposed as a haven for priests intent on abusing children the Primate of All-Ireland, Archbishop Sean Brady said the Church was ashamed of its failures to protect children.
He described the betrayal of trust by priests who abused children as "horrendous."
And it was confirmed that Bishop Eamon Walsh, Apostolic Administrator of Ferns, is also considering a day of atonement for the horrors of the past.
Taoiseach Bertie Ahern promised Government action on the Report's recommendations adding: "It is a catalogue of serial abuse and gross dereliction of duty."
The allegations in the report covering the period 1966- 2005 range from single complaints against priests in the diocese to 26 allegations of abuse against one individual.
Of the 21 accused priests, 10 are now dead, three have been defrocked, seven are no longer on "normal duties," and another has retired.
However, just six of the priests who have already been convicted in the courts, or are deceased, are named in the report.
They are: Fr Sean Fortune, against whom 40 allegations of sex abuse are made, Fr Jim Grennan, Monsignor Micheal Ledwith, who was defrocked last month, Fr James Doyle, Fr Donal Collins, and Canon Martin Murphy
The identities of the rest - including one priest who is accused of carrying out a litany of appalling abuse against 10 women and young girls - are simply referred to by letters of the Greek alphabet.
Other shocking revelations include claims that:
* Fr Sean Fortune left a suicide note in which he claimed he was abused by Bishop Brendan Comiskey. The note was later found and destroyed by a priest Fr Gerald O'Leary, who thought the claims were a deliberate attempt to discredit the former Bishop of the Diocese.
* Serial abusers Fortune and Doyle were judged "unfit" for the priesthood by a Church psychiatrist, but Bishop Donal Herlihy went ahead and ordained them anyway.
* Fortune organised beach parties in Paulfour for youngsters where he provided them with drugs, alcohol and condoms.
* Former principle of St Peter's College, Fr Donal Collins, consistently abused boys over a 21 year period.
* The Vatican was aware of the allegations of abuse in the diocese, but failed to act on the information.
* Gardai also failed to act on allegations made by children in Monageer, where Fr Jim Grennan sexually abused 10 girls on the altar.
A further five cases came to light after August 31 last, but it was decided by the inquirythat to fully examine them would have led to an unacceptable delay.
Victim's spokesman Colm O'Gorman last night warned that unless there were changes in the law the abuse which happened in Ferns could very easily happen again.
THE Ferns Report will go down to history as a litany of horrors, an indictment of our most revered institution, and a shocking insight into the society that permitted such a weak response to disclosures of abominable crimes.
Before its publication yesterday, there had been widespread rumours that it would reveal "far worse" things about clerical sex abuse than any previously known. That was hard to believe. Over the last decade and more, incontrovertible proof had emerged of the horrible details, the cover-ups and the determination of dioceses across the world to resist exposure. What could be worse?
But the rumours were true. The Catholic diocese of Ferns is a special case. It has the deplorable distinction of having harboured the highest proportion in Ireland, perhaps in the world, of priests engaged in child abuse.
Their vile deeds continued from generation to generation, nearly four decades. Their conduct was outrageous. Little girls molested on the altar of a church; boys taken to beach parties with alcohol, drugs and contraceptives. The notorious Father Sean Fortune behaved with the recklessness of a man who felt he could get away with anything.
And what of their superiors? This excellent report severely criticises two bishops, Dr Brendan Comiskey and the late Dr Donal Herlihy, who proceeded with the ordination of two men after a professor of psychology had warned of their total unsuitability for the priesthood.
Ignoring warnings, and wilful blindness to the gravity of offences and the danger of repetition, were almost standard practice. Not just in Ferns or in Ireland, but across the world, bishops moved errant priests from parish to parish and from diocese to diocese. Sometimes they sent them to special clinics for therapy which clearly did not work.
A time came when these tactics failed. The Garda Siochana, and the health service, began to take belated interest and action. In Ferns, the conduct of Garda inquiries was mixed. Several officers behaved with professional competence, and with sensitivity. But one senior officer deliberately hampered the investigation.
He is dead, and his motives remain unknown. We should be better informed on the emotions of Dr Comiskey when the stark realities and likely consequences of his negligence confronted him. Yesterday, however, the former bishop's statement helped very little.
He asked for forgiveness and blamed "human failings". All humans have failings, and all must seek forgiveness. But the public interest demands a different approach. Questions of compassion and pardon are for the victims, or a higher Power. The concern of the public is for betrayal of trust and dereliction of duty.
The Government's initial reaction cannot be faulted. However, its determination to match words with deeds will be tested when it comes to acting on the report's recommendations. A welcome proposal is the creation of a new offence of failing to protect children.
A question still remains as to whether any of the perpetrators can now be reached and punished. This is not an issue of revenge but of justice - and of attitude. Sadly, the Church has given the impression again and again that it cares more for the alleged wrongdoers than for their victims. That must change if it hopes ever to regain the respect it once enjoyed in abundant measure. The Ferns Report is a reproach. But it can also be a new beginning.
“This is not the end. It is not the beginning of the end. But it is perhaps the end of the beginning.”
Winston Churchill's wartime quote is of some relevance, maybe, to Irish society and the Irish Catholic Church in the wake of the publication of the Ferns Report.
What is in the report is profoundly distressing to anyone concerned with the welfare of children or with the mission of the Catholic Church in Ireland.
Yet it is an important step in helping all sections of Irish society, including the Church, to work to prevent child sexual abuse.
The report sets out in a direct manner the abuse experienced by the children of Ferns. It assesses the handling of matters by diocesan authorities, the Gardaí (Irish Police) and the South Eastern Health Board.
It is critical where it needs to be. It also gives credit where credit is due. It acknowledges the growth in awareness and competence of both Church and State authorities over the years.
Judge Murphy and his team have put down a marker for all by making judgments that are measured but unflinching.
It will take time to fully absorb the contents of this report and the questions which need to be addressed on foot of it. But by far the most obvious place to start is the catalogue of shame that was child sexual abuse in the Ferns diocese from 1962 to 2002.
The modus operandi of Judge Murphy was to look at all allegations of abuse made in the diocese and to examine the handling of each. He does not make findings of guilt or otherwise, but there is no doubting the reality.
The number of allegations against individual priests varied enormously from single complaints in the case of nine priests to 26 complaints against one individual. The total is deeply shocking: more than 100 allegations against 21 priests operating under the aegis of the Ferns diocese over a period of 40 years.
How could this happen in a church which has always regarded the abuse of minors as deeply sinful, the 'sexual corruption of young boys' being long thought of as one of the most serious offences against canon law?
There cannot be full understanding, it seems, without turning the spotlight on St Peter's seminary.
In a place where priests should have been serving young people selflessly, an evil culture appears to have taken hold. But there are harder questions, not falling within the remit of the report, which will test the minds and attitudes of both 'conservatives' and 'liberals' within the Church.
The challenge for conservatives is to accept that the emphasis by church authorities on celibacy, holiness and obedience is not enough to protect children from those who have an inbuilt or acquired propensity to abuse.
There is a need for thorough vetting of candidates for the priesthood and ongoing priestly formation and assessment. There must be an acceptance that the insights of modern psychology and of the social sciences should be incorporated into decisions concerning personnel.
The challenge for liberal commentators may be to accept that the problem of sexual abuse by clergy may not be entirely separate from concerns in the Vatican and elsewhere about lax standards in the Church regarding sexuality, and particularly homosexuality.
Homosexuality is not the same as paedophilia, everyone knows, and this fact was emphasised by Archbishop Diarmuid Martin recently during the discussion of an alleged Vatican plan to order candidates with a homosexual orientation to be excluded from the priesthood. But certain issues are worthy of consideration.
Was sexual abuse particularly prevalent in the late 1960s, 70s and 80s, the period when there was widespread rejection of the Church's teaching on sexuality? During that time, homosexual subcultures emerged in some seminaries in the US and elsewhere. Was St Peter's seminary such a place? And while most homosexual people would deplore the abuse of children, there has been tolerance, on occasions, of sexual behaviour involving older men and younger boys. In the all-male world of the St Peter's seminary, did some priests develop just such a tolerance?
The truth is that more research is needed on all of these topics before we can draw safe conclusions. But the Sexual Abuse and Violence in Ireland (SAVI) report which found that 3.2% of reported abuse was perpetrated by ministers of religion, also found that three times as many boys as girls were involved in such cases. These figures may or may not apply to Ferns, however, where some notorious abuse related to young girls.
One of the guiding phrases in the report is "adequate and appropriate response". It is against this yardstick that the actions of various Church leaders and civic authorities are judged. The report presents a comprehensive set of factors which militated against a proper response and allowed abuse to continue in Ferns. These factors include the failure to properly assess men during seminary admission and training, the failure of the management system in the diocese and the failure of successive bishops to keep proper records of abuse.
"The absence of proper records together with the acknowledged reluctance of priests in the diocese to report inappropriate behaviour to the bishop meant that bishops were often presented with an allegation on one hand and a denial on the other and no other information that might have helped him come to a decision," the report notes.
Criticism of the Vatican is not a key feature of this report, but the failure of Church authorities in Rome to educate bishops about the growing awareness of child sexual abuse within the Roman Catholic priesthood during the 1970s and 1980s is noted.
This left individual priests poorly equipped to understand or confront the situation when they encountered it.
In Ireland, there was sometimes a failure by Church authorities to listen sensitively and sympathetically to allegations and this in turn prevented complainants from disclosing the full horror of what happened. The last of the factors listed is "a culture of secrecy and fear of causing scandal" which, the report notes, "informed at least some of the responses".
If there is a positive in this report for the Catholic Church it is the acknowledgment of best practice now in Ferns. Contrary to some newspaper reports, the diocese of Ferns under Bishop Eamonn Walsh's stewardship co-operated fully with Judge Murphy and his team. There is also praise for the 'Inter-Agency Review Committee' in Ferns.
This involves regular high level meetings between the diocese, the gardaí and the Health Services Executive and allows the diocese to advise other agencies about the circumstances and whereabouts of priests asked to step aside from active ministry pending investigation.
Tragically, it is not possible for anyone to say that an Irish child will never again be abused. But the Church's Framework Document, published in 1996, goes further than the law requires by calling on bishops and religious superiors to report knowledge or suspicion of abuse to the civil authorities.
A national child protection policy has been agreed by the church and awaits recognition from Rome. The Ferns Inquiry declares that "the current practice of the diocese of Ferns operates to a very high level of child protection" and that it will provide a model "not merely for other dioceses but for other organisations facing allegations of child sexual abuse by members".
Perhaps it really is the end of the beginning.