Mochuda next directed his steps eastward through Munster and he crossed the river then called Nemh, and now named the Abhainn More. As he crossed he saw a large apple floating in the middle of the ford. This he took up and carried away with him in his hand. Hence (that ford is named) Ath-Ubhla in Fermoy [Ballyhooley]. His attendant asked Mochuda for the apple, but the latter refused to give it saying—"God will work a miracle by that apple and through me to-day: we shall meet Cuana Mac Cailcin's daughter whose right hand is powerless so that she cannot move it from her side. But she shall be cured by the power of God through this apple." This was accomplished. Mochuda espied the child playing a game with the other girls in the faithche [lawn] of the Lios. He approached and said to her:—"Take this apple." She, as usual, put forth her left hand for the fruit. "You shall not get it in that hand, but take it in the other." The girl full of faith tried to put out the right hand, and on the instant the hand became full of strength and blood and motion so that she took the apple in it. All rejoiced thereat and were amazed at the wonder wrought. That night Cuana said to his daughter: "Choose yourself which you prefer of the royal youths of Munster and whomsoever your choice be I shall obtain in marriage for you." "The only spouse I shall have," said she, "is the man who cured my hand." "Do you hear what she says O Mochuda?" said the king. "Entrust the child to me," answered Mochuda, "I shall present her as a bride to God who has healed her hand." Whereupon Cuana gave his daughter Flandnait, together with her dowry and lands on the bank of Nemh, to God and to Mochuda for ever. Cuana was almost incredibly generous. Mochuda took the maiden with him to Rahen where she passed her years happily with the religious women there till Mochuda was expelled by the kings of Tara as you may hear. He took Flandnait with him (from Rahen) in his party to her own native region that she might build herself a cell there. She did build a famous cell at Cluain Dallain in Mochuda's own parish.
Previous to his expulsion (from Rahen) Mochuda visited the place where (later) he built Lismore and he heard the voice of persons reading at Rahen, wherefore he said to his followers: "I know that this is the place where God will permit us to build our monastery." This prophecy was subsequently verified.
On a certain occasion Columcille came to Rahen where Mochuda was and asked him:—"Is this place in which you now are dear to you?" "It is, indeed," answered Mochuda. Columcille said: "Let not what I say to you trouble you—this will not be the place of your resurrection, for the king of Erin and his family will grow jealous of you owing to machinations of some of the Irish clergy, and they shall eventually drive you hence." Mochuda questioned Columcille who had a true prophetic gift—"In what other place then will my resurrection be?" Columcille told him—"The place where from the summit of Slieve Gua you saw the host of angels building a chair of silver with a statue of gold therein on the bank of the Nemh—there will your resurrection be, and the chair of silver is your church in the midst of them [, and you are truly the golden statue in its midst]." Mochuda believing what he heard thanked and glorified God.
As Mochuda on another day was at Rahen there came to him a priest and monk of his own community from the northern part of Munster; he made a reverence as was the custom of the monks, in Mochuda's presence and said to him, "Father, I have complied with all your commands and the precepts of God from the day I left Rahen till now—except this—that, without your permission, I have taken my brother from the secular life." "Verily I say to you," answered Mochuda, "if you were to go to the top of a high hill and to shout as loudly as you could and were to bring to me all who heard the cry I should not refuse the habit of religion to one of them." Hearing these words all realised the character and extent of Mochuda's charity and returned thanks to God for it.
On a certain day about vesper time, because of the holiness of the hour, Mochuda said to his monks:—"We shall not eat to-day till each one of you has made his confession," for he knew that some one of them had ill will in his heart against another. All the brethren thereupon confessed to him. One of them in the course of his confession stated: "I love not your miller and the cause of my lack of charity towards him is this, that when I come to the mill he will not lift the loads off the horses and he will neither help me to fill the meal sacks nor to load them on the horse when filled. And not this alone but he does everything that is disagreeable to me; moreover I cannot tell, but God knows, why he so acts. Often I have thought of striking him or even beating him to death." Mochuda replied, "Brother dear, the prophet says—'Declina a malo et fac bonum' [Psalm 36(37):27] (Avoid evil and do good). Following this precept let you act kindly towards the miller and that charity of yours will move him to charity towards you and ye shall yet be steadfast friends." Things went on thus for three days—the monk doing all he could to placate the miller. Nevertheless the miller did not cease his persecution, nor the brother his hate of the miller. On the third day Mochuda directed the brother to confess to him again. The brother said:—"This is my confession, Father, I do not yet love the miller." Mochuda observed:—"He will change to-night, and to-morrow he will not break fast till you meet him and you shall sit on the same seat, at the same table, and you shall remain fast friends for the rest of your lives." All this came to pass; for that monk was, through the instruction of Mochuda, filled with the grace of the Divine Spirit. And he glorified and praised Mochuda, for he recognised him as a man favoured by the Holy Ghost.
On another occasion two British monks of Mochuda's monastery had a conversation in secret. Mochuda, they said, is very old though there is no immediate appearance of approaching death—and there is no doubt that his equal in virtue or good works will never be found—therefore if he were out of the way one of us might succeed him. Let us then kill him as there is no likelihood of his natural death within a reasonable time. They resolved therefore to drown him in the river towards close of the following night and to conceal all traces so that the crime could never be discovered. They found him subsequently in a lonely place where he was accustomed to pray. They bound him tightly and carried him between them on their shoulders to the water. On their way to the river they met one of the monks who used to walk around the cemetery every night. He said to them: "What is that you carry?" They replied that it was portion of the monastic washing which they were taking to the river. He however, under the insistent suggestion of the Holy Spirit, believed them not. He said: "Put down your load till we examine it." They were constrained to obey and the burden proved to be—Mochuda. The monk who detected [the proposed murder] was the overseer of the homestead. He said mournfully, "My God, it is a dreadful work you are about." Mochuda said gently:—"Son, it were well for me had that been done to me for I should now be numbered among the holy martyrs. And it were bad for them (the two wicked monks) for it is with Judas the betrayer of his Lord they should be tortured for ever, who had desired my death for their own advancement. Neither these wretched men themselves nor anyone of their nation shall be my coarb for ever, but my successors shall be of his race through whom God has rescued me. Moreover my city shall never be without men of the British race who will be butts and laughing-stocks and serve no useful purpose." The person who saved Mochuda was of the Ciarraighe race and it is of that same people that the coarbs and successors of Mochuda have commonly been ever since. [See note 2.]
Mochuda refused for a long while, as we have already said, to accept cattle or horses from anyone; it was the monks themselves who dug and cultivated the land and they did all the haulage of the monastery on their own backs. St. Fionan however who was a kinsman of Mochuda and had just returned from Rome, came at this time on a visit to the monastery. He reproached Mochuda saying: "Mochuda, why do you impose the burden of brute beasts upon rational beings? Is it not for use of the latter that all other animals have been created? Of a truth I shall not taste food in this house till you have remedied this grievance." Thenceforth Mochuda—in honour of Fionan—permitted his monks to accept horses and oxen from the people and he freed them from the hardship alluded to. Sometime later the holy abbot, Lachtaoin [St. Lachten], compassionating Mochuda and his monks because of their lack of cattle paid a visit to Rahen bringing with him a gift of thirty cows and a bull, also a couple of cattlemen and two dairymaids. Coming near Rahen he left the cattle in a secluded place, for he did not wish them to be seen. Thereupon he went himself to the monastery and simulating illness requested a drink of milk. The house steward went to Mochuda to tell him that Lachtaoin was ill and required milk. Mochuda ordered the steward to fill a pitcher with water and bring it to him—and this order was executed. Mochuda blessed the water which immediately was changed into sweet new milk apparently of that day's milking. He sent the milk to Lachtaoin but the latter identified it as milk miraculously produced; he in turn blessed it with the result that it was changed back again into water. He complained:—"It is not water but milk I have asked for." The messenger related this fact publicly. Lachtaoin declared:—"Mochuda is a good monk but his successors will not be able to change water to milk," and to the messenger he said—"Go to Mochuda and tell him that I shall not break bread in this house until he accept the alms which I have brought to the community." On Mochuda agreeing to accept them he handed over the cattle and dairymen to the monks of Rahen and the stewards took charge of them. Mochuda said thereupon, that he should not have accepted the cattle but as a compliment to Lachtaoin. Lachtaoin replied:—"From this day forward there will be plenty cattle and worldly substance in your dwelling-place and there will be a multitude of holy people in the other place whence you are to depart to heaven (for you will be exiled from your present home)." After they had mutually blessed and taken leave and pledged friendship Lachtaoin departed.
Once, at harvest time, the farm steward came to Mochuda complaining that, though the crop was dead ripe, a sufficient number of harvesters could not be found. Mochuda answered: "Go in peace, dear brother, and God will send you satisfactory reapers." This promise was fulfilled, for a band of angels came to the ripest and largest fields, reaped and bound a great deal quickly, and gathered the crop into one place. The monks marvelled, though they knew it was God's work and they praised and thanked Him and Mochuda.
The spirit of obedience amongst Mochuda's monks was such that if any senior member of the community ordered another to lie in the fire he would be obeyed. As an instance of this,—some of the brethren were on one occasion baking bread in an oven when one the monks said to another younger than himself, "The bread is burning: take it out instantly." There was an iron shovel for drawing out the bread but the brother could not find it on the instant. He heeded not the flames which shot out of the oven's mouth but caught the hot bread and shifted it with his hands and suffered no hurt whatever. On another day the monks were engaged in labour beside the river which runs through the monastery. One of the senior monks called upon a young monk named Colman to do a certain piece of work. Immediately, as he had not named any particular Colman, twelve monks of the name rushed into the water. The readiness and exactness of the obedience practised was displayed in this incident.
Great moreover was their meekness and patience in sickness or ill-health as appears from the case of the monk out of the wounds of whose body maggots fell as he walked; yet he never complained or told anyone or left his work for two moments although it was plain from his appearance that his health was declining, and he was growing thinner from day to day. The brothers pitied him very much. At length Mochuda questioned him—putting him under obedience to tell the truth—as to the cause of his decline. The monk thereupon showed him his sides which were torn by a twig tied fast around them. Mochuda asked him who had done that barbarous and intolerable thing to him. The monk answered:—"One day while we were drawing logs of timber from the wood my girdle broke from the strain, so that my clothes hung loose. A monk behind me saw this and cutting a twig tied it so tightly around my sides that it has caused my flesh to mortify." Mochuda asked—"And why did you not loosen the twig?" The monk replied—"Because my body in not my own and he who tied it (the withe) has never loosed it." It was a whole year since the withe had been fastened around him. Mochuda said to him:—"Brother, you have suffered great pain; as a reward thereof take now you choice—your restoration to bodily health or spiritual health by immediate departure hence to eternal life." He answered, deciding to go to heaven:—"Why should I desire to remain in this life?" Having received the Sacrament and the Holy Communion he departed hence to glory.