Adalric’s promises were sincere. He was eager to aid Odile as much as he
could in the realization of her most cherished hopes. “For it was in the
decrees of divine Providence,” says an old Latin chronicle, “that this
light should be placed in a candlestick, that it might give light to all
who were in the house; and God had inspired Odile with the resolution to
found a community of noble virgins who would live in retirement and
observe the evangelical counsels.”
The saint opened her heart to her father, representing to him that Alsace
had already convents for men, but no retreat for women who wished to
renounce the world, and that such a refuge would be useful and at the same
time pleasing to God. Adalric listened favorably to his daughter, and,
whether the proposition pleased him or he did not wish to oppose her
inclinations, he gave her in due form, in the year 680, the Castle of
Hohenbourg with its vast dependencies and immense revenues, that she might
convert what had till then been the principal bulwark of Alsace into an
inviolable asylum for noble ladies of piety who wished to consecrate
themselves to God.
Odile then assembled a number of workmen, and had all the buildings
removed that would be of no use to a religious community. This done, they
proceeded to construct the convent. It took them ten years. Adalric
generously defrayed all the expenses, and even directed the architects,
enjoining on them to neglect nothing that could contribute to the solidity
and beauty of the edifice.
As soon as it was known that Odile intended forming a community of women,
a crowd of young ladies of rank came to Hohenbourg, renouncing their
families and earthly possessions for the love of Christ. They besought her
to receive them as her companions, and to direct them in the way of
salvation. There were one hundred and thirty of them before the convent
was finished. Among them were Attale,(64) Eugénie, and Gundeline, the
daughters of Odile’s brother Adalbert,(65) and her own sister
Roswinde.(66) All these renounced the joys of the world without regret,
hoping to obtain eternal life. They united themselves to God by silence,
recollection, and prayer. Manual labor and the chanting of the Psalms
varied their occupations. Like the first Christians, they seemed to have
only one heart and one soul. Their only study seemed to be to equal their
superior in humility, sweetness, piety, and self‐renunciation. They lived
on barley bread and vegetables cooked in water. They took wine only on
festivals, and passed their nights in vigils and prayer, permitting
themselves only some hours of sleep when exhausted nature absolutely
required it. Then they slept only on a bear’s skin with a stone for a
pillow. In a word, they only allowed the body what was necessary for the
preservation of life.
Adalric had a profound respect for Odile, as one under the special
protection of the Divinity. The system of her community, the devotion and
the rigid and holy lives of those who composed it, and above all their
inexhaustible charity, led him to lavish his wealth on their monastery.
Not satisfied with giving them his palace and its domains, and
establishing a foundation in perpetuity for one hundred and thirty young
ladies of noble birth, he likewise gave fourteen benefices for the priests
who served the convent chapels.
Odile, in her ardent charity, wished there should be free access to her
abbey, not only for all the members of her family and persons of high rank
who came often to discourse with her on the things of God, but also for
the poor, the unhappy, and the sick. The steepness of the mountain in some
places made its ascent impossible for the aged. Our saint had an easy
pathway constructed, paved with broad flag‐stones. Thenceforth the
unfortunate of all grades of society flocked to the abbey—the poor to
obtain assistance, the infirm for remedies, and sinners for salutary
advice. All who were unhappy or unfortunate, whoever they might be, were
the objects of Odile’s tender affection. “The Gospel,” she constantly
repeated to her companions, “is a law of love,” and she exhorted them, in
imitation of Him who gave his life for us, to be charitable to their
fellow‐creatures. Odile’s charity was boundless. Not satisfied with
distributing alms, she cheered all with sweet words, carried them
nourishment and remedies with her own hands, and dressed the most
frightful wounds. “There came one day,” says a writer of that time, “a man
covered with a horrid leprosy to the gates of Hohenbourg for alms,
uttering most lamentable cries. He was so revolting, and he diffused so
infectious an odor, that none of the servants would approach him. One of
them, however, informed the saint of his condition. She at once prepared
some suitable food, and hastened to serve the leper. In spite of her
tenderness towards the unfortunate and her habitual control over her
senses, her first movement was one of horror at the sight of so disgusting
a being. Ashamed of her weakness, and resolved to conquer it, she folded
the leper affectionately in her arms, and burst into tears. Then she broke
the food she brought into small pieces, and fed him. At the same time she
raised her eyes to heaven, and, with a voice trembling with emotion,
exclaimed: ‘O Lord! deign to restore him to health or give him the courage
necessary to support such an affliction!’ Her humble prayer was
immediately heard. The leprosy disappeared, and the repulsive odor gave
place to one of sweetness, so that those who avoided him a short time
before were now eager to approach, to touch him, and to wonder.”
Odile gave bread, wine, and meat to all the poor who came to the abbey;
she was unwilling any should go away hungry. On feast days a great crowd
of beggars would besiege the gates, and on one occasion, all the food of
the community, and even the wine, being given them, the Sister who had
charge of the wine‐cellar sought Odile in church to tell her there was
none left for dinner. The abbess replied with a gentle smile: “He who fed
five thousand persons with five loaves and two fishes will provide for us,
if it be his will. Forget not, my daughter, that he has promised to those
that seek first the kingdom of heaven all other things shall be given. Go
where duty calls you.” The Sister went away, and at the hour of repast,
going to the wine‐cellar, found a supply of excellent wine.