THE DESTRUCTION OF THE MONASTERY ON CHRISTMAS EVE, 1589. [5]
There was war between John III. of Sweden and the Czar, Theodore
Ivanovitsch, and though an amnesty had been agreed upon for four
years—from 1585 to 1590—there were during that time slight skirmishes
between the people who lived along the coast of Karelen, and the Finns,
of Swedish Finland. Early in 1589 the Karelens had, in this irregular
manner, made an incursion into Finland, in the direction of Kajana. In
revenge for this attack, the Swedish Finns, not long afterwards, made
an incursion into Karelen. It is recorded that ‘they came in boats over
the river Kovda, seven hundred strong, and invaded and burnt the
Karelen towns of Kovda, Umba, Keret, and other places along the coast.
After this they made their way southwards in Kemste Volost, and
plundered all the habitations. Thence they retraced their steps across
the river Kem.’
The inhabitants of Solowetski retaliated, and with a troop of thirteen
hundred men made another incursion into Finland, plundering several
towns within the Finnish territory.
The Finns, on their part, revenged themselves ‘about Christmastide’ by
making another invasion; not, however, this time eastwards towards
Karelen, but northwards to the less defended coast of Russian Lapland,
to Enare, Peisen, Petschenga, Orafjord, and Kola. The troops, whose
numbers have not been recorded, marched from the district of Kajana,
and it is probable that they first reached Enare, or, as it is called
in the old documents, ‘Innier.’ Here they slew, among others, ‘Tykum
Thudesen, who yielded tribute to Denmark, Sweden, and Russia,’ and who,
from his name, we judge must have been a Norwegian. From Enare they
probably went along the Pasvig river, or through its valley to Pasvig,
or Klosterfjord, where Boris and Glebs Chapel had been built by the
monks of Petschenga. Here they put to death ‘four men, three boys, and
one woman.’ Among the boys Mikel Ottesen is mentioned, who was probably
a Norwegian, and the woman, who was named Oditte Andrisdatter, was also
in all probability a Norwegian woman. It is noteworthy that in this
case they spared the chapel, as it is still in existence, but usually
they burnt both the churches and the houses. From Peisen they went by
sea to Bomeni, or Bumandsfjord, on Fiskerö. They easily obtained boats
at Pasvigfjord, where the monks had a shipyard. The number of those who
were killed at Bomeni, and the property belonging to the monks which
they destroyed, is not known. ‘There was nobody there,’ the letter from
Vardö states, ‘when the magistrate arrived’ after Christmas to collect
the usual tax, or, as it was called, the ‘Nordfjeldskat.’ From Bomeni
they went to Petschengafjord. At the mouth of the fjord, at Warehouse
Bay, or, as the Vardö letter calls it, ‘at Wickits,’ was the monks’
shipyard. Here they set fire to the houses, and burnt all the boats
which they did not require. At the head of the bay was St. Mary’s
Church. This they also set on fire, after having plundered the
treasures which they found in it. From thence they crossed the river to
the monastery itself.
They reached it on the day before Christmas, 1589, during the night,
and while the office of Nocturns was being recited in the church, and
at the very time when Ambrose was about to take the vows. Most of the
monks were assembled in the church. A great many of the work-people
also were there, for everyone wanted to be present when a man who was
so highly esteemed by them all was to take his final vows. Fifteen of
the monks appear to have been absent from the monastery when it was
attacked, and thus they escaped death. Probably the monks who were at
the monastery had received intelligence of the ravages of the hostile
troops, and had done what was possible by way of defending themselves,
but evidently they had not anticipated an attack quite so soon.
The solemn consecration had begun, and at ten o’clock at night Ambrose
entered the outer church. There he took off the ordinary clothes which
he had been wearing, and stood with only his hair-shirt on him, without
stockings, shoes, girdle, and with his head uncovered. This was an
indication that he had now completely renounced everything in the
world. Then the assembled brothers approached him, each one bearing a
lighted taper in his hand as a symbol of the Gospel approaching the
penitent soul. He then joined in with their voices, and sang the hymn:
‘Lord, receive me in thy Fatherly embrace.’
At the entrance of the chancel the president of the monastery met him
‘as a father at the threshold of his house,’ and delivered a charge to
him, in which he adjured him ‘to open his heart, and to give heed to
the voice of the Lord, which now was calling on him to take His easy
yoke upon him. He must not forget that while with joy and trembling he
made his vows, the Saviour Himself, and the Mother of God, and all the
host of heaven, would hear each word he spoke, and that those words
would resound again before him, at the resurrection at the last day.’
Having entered the chancel, Ambrose knelt down, turning towards the
Superior and the Brothers, who stood in a semi-circle before him.
The Superior then inquired of him, ‘Wherefore art thou come hither, my
brother, and art kneeling before this sanctuary, and before the sacred
Brotherhood?’
He responded: ‘From the desire to lead a holy life of
self-renunciation.’
‘Dost thou desire to be reckoned worthy of being received as a monk,
and a partner of the Brethren’s sacred company?’
‘I do, by the help of God, Reverend Father,’ responded the novice.
The Superior commended his good intention, and said:
‘Yea, verily, it is a beautiful and laudable service to which thou art
now consecrating thy life. Mayest thou also fulfil thy vows! But so
grave an undertaking cannot be faithfully borne without toil, and
self-denial, and prayer.’
Then the Superior again demanded: ‘Is it of thine own free will that
thou hast come hither before the Lord?’
‘Yea, Reverend Father.’
‘Not by necessity, nor by force?’
‘No, Reverend Father.’
‘Wilt thou abide here in the monastery, and submit thyself wholly to a
monk’s life of self-denial and austerity, until the day of thy decease?
Wilt thou all the days of thy life be obedient to thy Prior, and to
this Brotherhood in Christ? Wilt thou keep thyself in temperance and
chastity? Dost thou forsake all thy possessions, and all that is in the
world?’
To all these demands the novice responded with lowly voice, in
consciousness of his own frailty, but in hope of help from on high,
‘Yea, Reverend Father.’
After this public confession, which is intended to remove every fear
that force may have been used in securing the devotion of the novice,
the Superior addressed to Ambrose some further words of admonition, in
which he clearly explained to him the significance and the claims of
the monastic life. He again pointed out to him its principal rules,
which demand chastity, humility, obedience, and self-denial. He warned
him against the temptations with which the chief enemy of mankind would
assail him, more especially by bringing before him, awake and asleep,
visions of his former life in the world, its joys, its hopes, and its
sorrows. He made mention of the martyrs as examples to be followed, and
even spoke of the Lord Himself, Who, for our sake, ‘denied Himself, so
that He became obedient unto death,’ and then demanded of him once
more, ‘All this thou dost pledge thyself to observe, in reliance on
God’s might, and dost promise to keep thy vow unbroken, all the days of
thy life, through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ?’
‘I do, with the help of the Lord, Reverend Father,’ responded once more
the new champion of the Lord.
The Superior then said a prayer, in which he called to mind God’s mercy
when He spake to the children of Israel, ‘Even though a mother forget
her child, yet will I not forget thee;’ and he sought to confirm the
soul of the new brother with the promise of Divine strength and comfort
from the Holy Ghost in the spiritual struggles which were to come upon
him.
Then the Superior pointed to the Book of the Gospels, which lay upon a
table, as a symbol of Christ’s presence, and again put him in
remembrance that he had, of his own free will, made request to enter
the order of monks.
Then, one of the Brothers, who had been appointed to do so, took a pair
of scissors, which were lying on the Gospels, and delivered them to the
novice. Then the novice handed them back. This was done thrice. When on
the third occasion the monk received the scissors from the hand of the
novice, he cut off a small portion of the hair over the novice’s
forehead, in the name of the Holy Trinity, as a token that therewith
all carnal lusts are abolished, saying as he did so: ‘Never forget Whom
it is that thou art now espousing, to Whom it is that thou art going,
and what it is that thou art forsaking.’
While the assembled monks were softly singing ‘Gospodi pomilui,’ ‘God
have mercy,’ the Superior invested the new Brother with the monastic
habit, of which each separate article, habit, girdle, hood, and
sandals, has its own symbolical meaning. Each time that the Superior
placed on him a fresh portion of the habit, he turned to the brothers
and said: ‘Let us pray for him. Lord have mercy.’ As soon as he had
completely invested him, he repeated a prayer, in which he implored the
Lord that He would ‘Lead this Thy servant into Thy spiritual house,
receive him into Thy flock, and purify his soul from all carnal
affections, and ever put him in remembrance of the blessing and
heavenly joy which awaits the elect of God, and all them who, in the
life of the monastery, have crucified the flesh for the Kingdom of
Heaven’s sake.’
Then the Superior and the assembled Brothers and the novice together
sang a beautiful old Russian hymn:
‘Tossed on the stormy billows of life, I flee to this haven of rest;
Lord, let me here find peace, and balm for the wounds of my heart.
With my tears, O Lord, I will wash away the evil tale of my misdeeds,
And my life henceforth shall be vowed to Thee, in penance and humble
prayer;
But the fiend will come to entice and deceive my wavering soul;
Lord, help me then with Thy might, that I may not yield to his wiles.
I am a sheep of Thy flock, O Lord; unto Thee do I flee for refuge.
Though a wanderer, let me come to Thee; O God, have mercy upon me.’
Portions were next read from the Epistle to the Ephesians (vi. 10–17)
and from the Gospel according to St. Matthew (x. 37, 38; and xi.
28–30). Then, during the recital of a prayer, the Prior laid a cross on
the novice’s chest and shoulders, and called upon him to bear in mind
the words of Christ (St. Matt. x. 38). He handed him a lighted taper,
and with this in his hand he was to stand before the picture of Christ,
until the administration of the Holy Communion. When he handed him this
taper, he said, ‘Let your light so shine before men, that they may see
your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven’ (St. Matt.
v. 16).
The only thing which now remained was for Ambrose, with the Superior
and Brothers, to receive the Blessed Sacrament, and they had all to
give him the kiss of peace, in token that he was received as a Brother
in their community.
But at eleven o’clock the solemn function was suddenly interrupted.
Some of the work-people rushed into the church and shouted: ‘The enemy
is at our gates!’ And a banging of axes on the wooden walls was at the
same moment heard within the church. In place of the most solemn
silence, there now reigned a most uproarious alarm. The servants of the
monastery rushed from the church, and ran to their different dwellings
to arm themselves with what weapons they possessed, while the soldiers
battered away at the gate of the wooden wall which surrounded the
church and other buildings. It was not long before they burst it open
and rushed into the courtyard. Being better armed with swords and guns,
they speedily overpowered the servants of the monastery, and drove some
of them back into the church, and others into their own dwellings, or
into those of the monks. Some of the ruffians pursued them from room to
room, and murdered the defenceless people, and then plundered whatever
seemed to be of any value, and set fire to the buildings.
In the meantime, the monks, with some of the work-people, were
collected in the church. The leader of the troop, with a portion of his
band, broke through the slender walls and entered the outer church; but
the doors into the chancel were stronger, and withstood their attack
for a while. They well knew that the money and other treasures would be
found in the church, and particularly in the Sanctuary, or Holy Place.
They therefore surrounded the church, so that nobody should escape
through any secret door, while they continued to batter at the door
leading to the chancel.
In the meanwhile, the monks’ and servants’ dwellings were burning, and
the smoke came down over the church and enveloped both besieged and
besiegers in a thick white mist.
The doors, of course, did not long withstand the blows of the axes. The
soldiers smashed them and stormed into the chancel, where the helpless
monks stood assembled in their priestly attire, with the Superior, the
aged Gurij, at their head. He, venerable old man, knelt down and held
out a gilt cross to the enemy, and at the same time asked for mercy for
himself and his helpless brothers. But he was at once ruthlessly struck
down by the leader, and the cross snatched from his hands. Then they
set to work upon the others, and struck them down man by man. There was
only one who offered anything like resistance. Ambrose had rushed into
the Sanctuary and put on the coat of armour and seized the sword. Thus
armed, he thrust himself forward, and restrained some of the enemy who
were on the point of killing the rest of the monks. He struck out all
round, and defended himself with great spirit, his back being against
the Sanctuary, while the bodies of his dead and dying brethren lay in a
heap at his feet, and the whole of the floor of the church flowed with
their blood.
All of a sudden, as if shot from a cannon, a man sprang out of the
Sanctuary to his assistance. It was the huge, powerful Jussi, his
trusty friend. Jussi had entered by a secret door, and had armed
himself with a long, heavy iron crowbar. Armed with this, he sprang
forward in front of Ambrose and wielded it with his giant-like
strength, and dealt blows with such violence on all sides that he mowed
down like grass a number of the soldiers, and drove the others back.
But like a swarm of bees they surrounded him again from all sides, so
that at last, mortally wounded, he turned towards Ambrose, and, falling
over him, gasped:
‘Fly for it—Unnas is waiting—secret door.’
More he could not utter, before he was stabbed through and through a
dozen times. Ambrose leaped over the half-door of the Sanctuary,
slammed firmly back the upper half of it, and so gained a moment’s
respite. A secret door opened out of the Sanctuary into the back of the
monastic enclosure, and through that door peeped the terror-stricken
face of Unnas.
‘Come, come,’ he whispered.
The Sanctuary door crashed and burst in just as Ambrose disappeared
through the secret door, which was so placed that the soldiers had not
detected it, and so had not guarded it. But, in escaping through the
wooden fencing which surrounded the whole of the monastery, Unnas and
Ambrose had to jump across the burning remains of a part of the
servants’ dwellings. Unnas jumped over them first, and his Finn’s dress
and thick cap protected him from the flames, but Ambrose, with nothing
on his head, had his face badly scorched, although he had held his
hands over it.
They escaped through a small gate in the fence, and then made off
through the smoke and darkness down to the river, while the soldiers
were engaged in plundering the Sanctuary. When they reached the river,
Unnas jumped on to a block of ice and threw a rope to Ambrose. He
leaped from one block of ice to another, and in that way got across to
a small island in the middle of the river. Ambrose, who was heavier,
and not so nimble as the Finn, fell straight down, exhausted, wounded,
and almost blinded; but he had the rope round his waist, and, partly
dragged by Unnas, and partly crawling himself along the beach, the Finn
at last helped him up and enabled him to reach a gamme, [6] or hut
built of earth, which was on the island. There were two islands in the
river opposite the monastery, and no doubt they still exist, unless the
river has changed its course, or swept them away. On these two small
islands, it is expressly mentioned in the letter from Vardö, ‘there
were two “gammer,” which remained untouched, as the Swedes could not
reach them.’
Unnas and Ambrose were thus, for a time at least, in security. They
could see from their place of refuge how the church was burning. The
invaders had set fire to it, after they had plundered whatever they
could find of any value. The church and the various monastery buildings
made together a huge conflagration, round which they could see black
figures moving about on the snow.
The next morning, Christmas Day, nothing remained but the smouldering
ruins of the church, the buildings, the barns, and the mill. All that
the invaders could carry with them, that was of any value, they had
pillaged, and the rest they had burnt.
In the letter from Vardö forty-one of the murdered monks are mentioned
by name. ‘The following,’ it states, ‘the Swedes slew belonging to the
monastery that was called Pesantz: The chief monk, Archimandrite Gurij.
Three priests, by name Packum, N. Foser, and Jonno N., together with
the following monks.’ (Here follows a list of their names.)
Similarly the names of fifty-one of the servants, or lay-brothers, are
recorded as having been killed. (Here follows another list of names.)
According to some authorities a total of fifty-one monks and sixty-five
servants were slain, and according to others even a larger number. The
majority of the names are Russian, only one or two are Finnish or
Norwegian. In the barn they killed two women, Kyllinna and Fefemj by
name. In all probability they were milkmaids, who attended to the cows.
With this the invaders ended their errand, and made their way down to
the fjord again. From thence they went across to ‘Urze,’ by which most
likely Orafjord is meant, and there they put to death five men, three
lads, five women, and four girls. Among the men are mentioned by name,
Jorgen Iffersen, Iver Ottesen, and Thimofe Mickelsen, who were probably
Norwegians. Among the women, Marin Iffuansdatter is mentioned; she was
also, most probably, a Norwegian woman. The names of the rest seem to
have been those of Russians. These marauders spared neither man nor
woman, but put to death everybody they could.
From Orafjord they made for the town of Kola, which was pretty well
fortified. ‘They reached it two days after Christmas. But the besieged
inhabitants made a sally, and the marauders were completely routed.
Sixty of them were slain, and the rest escaped by boat across the river
Tulom.’ This river has its source in the Nuotjavre Lake, and from it
the remnant probably made their way southwards again to the region of
Kajana, whence they had come. Nothing more, however, is recorded of
their exploits.
Unnas and Ambrose were not the only persons who escaped from being
killed by fire and the enemy’s sword. It is not unlikely that a few
others of the monks also escaped by flight, but nothing is said in the
documents on this point. Ambrose lay ill on a plank bed, with a bandage
over his eyes. His hair was almost entirely burnt off, and his hands
and face were so scorched that he was scarcely to be recognised.
The following day Unnas went over to the ruins. It had frozen during
the night, so that the ice on the river was strong enough to bear him.
There he found nothing left of the entire monastery but smouldering
embers, and charred corpses among the ruins. A number of clothes and
other things had been fetched from the monks’ chambers on to the snow,
and had served the ruffians for beds. Perhaps at one time they had
thought of taking some of these things with them, but had afterwards
abandoned the idea. Unnas took some of the things with him across to
the island, so that both he and Ambrose might have something to rest
upon. The barn was, as has been already observed, also burnt down, and
the cattle had been killed. Part of the slaughtered cattle the brigands
had taken with them, the remainder they had thrown into the fire.
Ambrose and Unnas, however, were not on that account obliged to starve.
They found in a shed on the island a large amount of salt fish. The
monks had speared salmon on the islands during the summer, and it
sometimes happened that one or more of them, together with some of the
servants, would remain in the gamme for several days. Pots and cooking
utensils were to be found there, and neither Ambrose nor Unnas had any
need to fear either cold or hunger for awhile; they could wait for
Ambrose to recover his strength, and for the people who were spared to
return.
After a few days had passed, most of the fifteen absent monks did
return, and found to their horror the monastery destroyed, and their
brothers’ half-burnt corpses lying among the ruins. They had to live
for the present in a ‘bathing chamber, situated a little way from the
monastery,’ which had been spared, or perhaps had not been noticed by
the marauders. At first they had enough to do in burying their murdered
brethren and the servants.