Odile, who had returned to Hohenbourg without her father’s consent, was
now forced to remain against her own will. Her reputation so spread
throughout the province that people of the highest rank went to see her,
and several aspired to her hand. Among these suitors was a young German
duke whose station, wealth, and personal qualities gave him an advantage
over his rivals. Adalric and Berswinde joyfully gave their consent, and
the marriage settlements were agreed upon. The arrangement was then made
known to Odile, who declared firmly but respectfully that she had chosen
Christ for her spouse, and could not renounce her choice. But this
projected marriage flattered the pride and ambition of her father, and,
after vainly endeavoring to persuade her to consent to it, he sought to
obtain by force what mildness had not been able to effect. Odile, seeing
that her liberty of action was to be infringed upon, felt that flight was
her only resource. Commending herself to God and Our Blessed Lady, she
clothed herself early one morning in the rags of a beggar, and left the
castle unobserved, descending the mountain by an obscure and almost
impassable ravine. It was in the year 679. Her first intention was to take
refuge in the Abbey of Baume, but, considering that would be the first
place to seek for her, she resolved to conceal herself from all mankind,
and lead henceforth a difficult and solitary life for the love of her
Redeemer. She therefore directed her steps toward the Rhine, and, meeting
a fisherman, she gave him a small piece of money to take her across the
river.
Odile had been accustomed to seclude herself several hours a day for
prayer and meditation, so her non‐appearance excited no surprise. She was
supposed to be at her devotions, and was already several miles from home,
when the report of her disappearance spread consternation throughout the
manor. The duke, distressed by her flight, assembled all his followers,
ordered his four sons to pursue her in four different directions, and
directed his servants to scour the surrounding country. Berswinde alone
did not share the general grief. She would indeed have been pleased by the
marriage of her daughter and the German duke, but Odile’s motives for
declining the alliance, the remembrance of the miracle wrought at her
baptism, and the manifest protection of heaven she was so evidently under,
made her mother sure that the support of the Most High would not in this
case be wanting.
Adalric himself set off with several esquires, and unwittingly took the
same route as his daughter. He soon came to the Rhine, where he heard that
a young beggar‐girl, whose rags could not conceal her noble air and
extreme beauty, had crossed the river and gone towards Fribourg. The duke,
sure it was his daughter, likewise crossed over, and came so close upon
her steps that it seemed impossible for her to escape. But the princess,
says the old chronicle of Fribourg containing these details, coming in
sight of the city near a place called Muszbach, was so overcome with
fatigue that she was obliged to sit down and take breath. She had hardly
thanked God for his protection thus far when she perceived, at some
distance, a company of horsemen swiftly approaching. Then recognizing her
father and his followers, she raised her eyes to heaven, whence alone she
could expect succor, and prayed fervently: “O my Saviour!” cried she,
“spotless protector of virgins! I am lost unless thou shieldest me from
their eyes, and coverest me with the shadow of thy wings!” And our Lord,
says the legend, heard this earnest prayer: the rock on which she was
seated opened to shelter her from her eager pursuers, and had hardly
closed upon her when Adalric came up. As soon as he had passed by Odile
came out, and, that posterity might not lose the remembrance of this
miracle, a limpid stream of healing waters flowed henceforth from the
rock. This fountain became eventually the resort of pilgrims, and the
saint herself had a chapel built over it in commemoration of her
deliverance.
The duke, unsuccessful in his search, returned to Hohenbourg. Unable to
resign himself to the loss of his daughter, he fell into a state of
sadness and discouragement. Weeks, nay, months, passed, but no news of the
fugitive. Adalric finally proclaimed throughout his duchy, at the sound of
the trumpet that he would henceforth leave his daughter free to pursue her
own course of life, if she would only return to her family.
Having no longer any excuse for remaining away from her family, where she
might be called to labor for God, Odile left her retreat at Brisgau, and
returned home.(63)