(A.D. 1027.)
[Roman Martyrology. Authority:--a life by S. Peter Damian written
fifteen years after his death.]
S. Romuald, who was destined to be the restorer of the religious life
in Italy, came into the world, according to the most credible account,
about the year A.D. 907, at a time when the universal lawlessness and
corruption of life and manners which had overflowed Europe, had
penetrated to the recesses of the cloister, and had filled the
monasteries of his native land with unworthy monks, who made the
religious profession a mere cloak for vice, or at best as a pretext
for an idle self-indulgent life.
He belonged to the noble family of the Onesti, the Ducal race of the
state of Ravenna; he is said in his youth to have been much given to
sins of the flesh, but nevertheless to have been strongly drawn
inwardly towards God. It is said that when in hunting he got separated
from his companions in the woods, he would allow his horse to come to
a standstill, and overcome by the peaceful beauty of nature, would
give way to reflections on the happiness of those to whom it was given
to live retired from the world far from the clash of arms, the whirl
of pleasure, and the struggles of civil life.
The immediate cause of his forsaking the world was as follows. His
father Sergius Onesti, a man of a proud and passionate disposition,
and wholly given to worldly things, had a violent quarrel with a
relative about the possession of a certain meadow; so resolutely
determined was he to press his quarrel to the end, that perceiving
Romuald to be but half-hearted in it, and more fearful of
blood-guiltiness, than desirous for the victory of his house, he
threatened to disinherit him unless he displayed more zeal in the
cause. The relation being equally resolved, the dependents on both
sides were armed, and a fight ensued; at which Romuald, in spite of
his scruples, was obliged to be present. The relation fell by the hand
of Sergius himself; and Romuald, horror-stricken at the crime, of
which his enforced presence at its perpetration seemed to make him a
partaker, fled to the Monastery of S. Apollinaris in Classe, intending
there to expiate his guilt by a penance of forty days.
During the performance of this penance he was by some means attracted
to the society of a lay-brother in the monastery, and in the intervals
of his penitential exercises had many conversations with him. This
lay-brother, a truly spiritual man, perceiving in Romuald signs of a
vocation to the religious life, strongly urged him to forsake the
world altogether and at once. For this, however, Romuald was not yet
prepared, and, without absolutely rejecting the advice of his friend,
yet resisted, and put him off from day to day. At last one day in the
course of a talk upon the visions of the Saints, the lay-brother asked
him what he would give for a sight of the blessed martyr Apollinaris,
the patron of the monastery. Romuald replied that for such a favour he
would consent to forsake the world. That same night watching in prayer
in the monastery church, they beheld a supernatural brightness issue
from the high altar and fill the whole church. This was the precursor
of the appearance of the blessed martyr, who came forth from the midst
of the high altar habited in priestly vestments, and with a golden
censer in his hand; with this he went round the church and censed each
altar in its turn; and having done this, retired as he had come,
leaving the church once more in darkness. His friend immediately
claimed the fulfilment of the promise. But even a second vision of the
martyr failed to overcome his reluctance, and he still held off. But
one day praying in the church before this very altar, a sudden access
of the love of God came over his soul. In a moment all his fears, all
his lingering affection for worldly things vanished; he hastened to
the brethren, and humbly besought them to receive him as a novice.
This, however, in dread of his father's resentment, they refused to
do; Romuald, once resolved, would yield to no difficulties, and betook
himself at once to the Archbishop of Ravenna, laid his case before
him, and asked for his help. The Archbishop, moved by the earnestness
and fervour of the youth, took up his cause, and on his assurances of
protection against the violence of Sergius, the brethren consented to
receive him; and Romuald entered upon the course from which throughout
a long life he was never to swerve, in which his ardour was to know no
cooling, and which was to end in peopling many of the solitary places
of Italy with refugees from the wickedness and perils of, perhaps, the
most troublous time which Europe has ever known.
He passed three years in this monastery in the strictest observance of
S. Benedict's rule, in the daily practise of mortification, and
incessant prayer. The greater part of the monks, however, were of a
different mind. They bitterly resented both Romuald's literal
interpretation of the monastic vow, and the rebukes of their laxity
and unfaithfulness, which he did not hesitate to address to them; and
at length, in their rage, conspired to murder him, by throwing him out
of the dormitory window, near which it was his custom to pray in the
early morning, while they were yet in their beds, and the door of the
oratory was not yet open. Romuald, however, aware of their design,
prayed that morning just as usual, and by the mere power of prayer,
without other effort of his own, he escaped the threatened danger, and
saved the brethren from the guilt which they meditated.
Soon after, hearing by report of one Marinus, who was leading a hermit
life in a desert in the Venetian territory, he resolved to retire from
the fruitless struggle with the unfaithful monks, and to place himself
under his guidance. He made known his desire to the abbot and the
brethren, and craved permission from them to retire from the
community, and this was granted with great alacrity. He immediately
made his way to the neighbourhood in which Marinus dwelt, found him
out, and was accepted by him as his disciple.
Marinus, who was a man of singular simplicity of character, and most
rigid in his asceticism, took in hand the training of his neophyte in
good earnest. His first task was to teach Romuald to read; for up to
the time of his forsaking the world his literary education had been
altogether neglected. Master and pupil would go forth together to roam
about the wild, and recite the Psalter, sheltering now under one tree,
now under another, and sitting always face to face at their work.
Romuald, wearied by incessant poring over his book, would sometimes
yield to the overwhelming lassitude which came over him, and seek a
moment's repose; on which Marinus would strike him smartly on the left
side of his head with a roll which he held in his right hand. At last,
quite unable to bear the pain, Romuald one day said to him humbly,
"Master, if you please, strike me next time on the right side of my
head, for I am becoming quite deaf in my left ear," "On which," says
the biographer, "Marinus, marvelling at his patience, relaxed the
indiscreet severity of his discipline."
Before long they were joined in their solitude by Peter, Duke of
Dalmatia, and a comrade of his, who had been moved to embrace the
religious life. Romuald who, in time, had mastered the difficulties of
the Psalter, kept so far in advance of his companions in devotion, and
in the acquisition of every virtue, that they unanimously deferred to
him in everything, and even Marinus, his whilom master, now became his
scholar, and submitted to his direction in everything. The whole party
maintained themselves by bodily labour, cultivating a piece of ground,
all the time fasting most rigidly, but, as it would appear, living
together in one common dwelling. However, reading one day in the Lives
of the Fathers, that certain of the brethren in old time had lived a
solitary life, fasting the whole week through, but on Saturdays and
Sundays met together and relaxed the rigour of their fast, they at
once resolved to adopt this way of life; viz., to live each in his own
hut, apart from the rest, in silence and mortification, for five days
of the week, and to allow themselves the solace of community life only
on the Saturday and Sunday; and thus they lived for the space of
fifteen years.
Once, during this time, it is related that Duke Peter came to Romuald
with a piteous complaint that he could not subsist on the
half-cake,[24] which formed the daily allowance of the brethren, and
urging that his huge and corpulent frame really required more
sustenance. Whereupon Romuald, condescending to the weakness of a
brother, and willing to hold out a helping hand to save him from
falling, increased his allowance to three-quarters.
Another occurrence tended greatly to increase the reputation of the
hermit Saint. A peasant farmer in the neighbourhood, who had often
ministered of his subsistence to Romuald and the brethren, was robbed
of his only cow by the dependents of a certain Count, a proud and
arrogant man. The poor man came to Romuald bewailing his loss with
many lamentations. Romuald at once sent a messenger to the Count,
beseeching him in all humility to restore his beast to the poor man.
The Count turned a deaf ear to the message, sent back a haughty and
insolent reply, adding moreover that he expected highly to enjoy the
cow's sirloin at dinner that very day. But he had better have yielded
to Romuald; for at dinner-time the meal was set before him, he inhaled
its rich savour with a greedy joy, and at the first mouthful was
choked and died miserably.
Romuald's sojourn in the Venetian territory was brought to an end, by
the death of several of his companions. On this he returned to the
neighbourhood which he had left years before, and erected a cell for
himself, in the marsh of Classe, in the place called "Pons Petri,"
removing it subsequently to the locality in which afterwards arose the
church of the Blessed Martin "in sylva." Here he experienced many and
violent temptations of the devil, who plied him sometimes with
terrifying visions, sometimes with distressing doubts about the
reality of his vocation, and his hope of final salvation. But as a
good soldier of Jesus Christ he combated the evil one with the
spiritual weapons of prayer and fasting, and meeting him boldly at
every turn, repelled all his assaults.
After a while, he removed again to another place, where he built a
monastery in honour of Michael the Archangel, which he peopled with
monks, he himself still living solitary in his cell. While he was
living here, a friend one day sent him a sum of money, about £21
sterling, intending it as a relief to his bodily necessities. He
immediately sent off a portion of the money to the brethren of a
monastery which had been just burnt down, to help towards the
rebuilding, and put the remainder away for some similar purpose. This
coming to the ears of the monks at S. Michael's they were so enraged
that they came down to his cell in a body, gave him a good beating,
and drove him from the neighbourhood with insults and reproaches.
Highly delighted with their exploit, they returned to the monastery,
and made preparations to celebrate the occasion by a great feast. But
their triumph was short; for the ringleader in the attack on Romuald,
on his way to obtain some honey to make mead for the carouse, had to
cross a bridge which overhung a furious torrent; in the midst of the
bridge something tripped him up, he stumbled, and falling headlong
into the stream, perished by the just judgment of God; and that very
night the rest of the monks were all but buried in the ruins of their
dwelling, which fell upon them as they were sleeping heavily after
their banquet, and bruises and broken bones convinced them that they
had made a bad bargain in revolting against Romuald's severe rule.
After this, the martyr Apollinaris appeared to Romuald in a vision,
and commanded him to return to Classis, and assume the government of
the monastery there. He at once removed to the vicinity, probably
taking up his quarters in his old cell. At this same time the brethren
at the monastery being without an abbot were desired by the Emperor
Otho III. to choose one for themselves. Their choice fell unanimously
upon Romuald. The emperor himself went to announce his election to
him, and to obtain his consent. He did not arrive at the cell until
nightfall, and was glad to accept Romuald's invitation to spend the
night there. The next morning the emperor broached the subject of the
Abbacy. Romuald at first refused to listen to the proposal; but Otho
threatening him with "excommunication and anathema from all the
bishops and archbishops and the whole Synod of Council," he at last
yielded, at the same time telling the emperor that the matter was by
no means new to him, for that he had had a divine intimation of it
some time before, and accompanied him to the monastery, where he was
duly installed. Before long however, the brethren took offence at the
severity of his rule, and began to repent of their choice. Perceiving
this, Romuald, as eager to lay down his office as he had been backward
to accept it, hastened to seek an interview with the emperor; and in
his presence and that of the Archbishop of Ravenna, broke his rod of
office, and formally dissolved the monastery, probably judging the
traditions of laxity which had grown up in the place too strong to be
disturbed except by the extirpation of the community.
About this time, hearing of one Venerius, a holy man, who was leading
a solitary life in great austerity, but not under obedience to anyone,
Romuald sought him out and persuaded him to return to the monastery
which he had forsaken in consequence of the persecutions of unworthy
brethren, and seek permission of his abbot to live apart from the
community. "If thou bearest the Cross of Christ," said he, "it yet
remains that thou forsake not the obedience of Christ." Venerius took
Romuald's advice, obtained leave from his abbot, and returned in great
peace of mind to the beloved solitude. Romuald remained with him for
some time, and gave him much needful instruction in spiritual things.
It is a good illustration of the reality and thoroughness of the
religious sentiment at that time, that men of the highest rank were
found to submit themselves readily to the discipline of the Church. It
is related that the famous Crescentius, Senator of Rome, had incurred
Otho's displeasure, and apprehensive of the consequences, had taken
sanctuary. Thammus, one of Otho's courtiers, had induced Crescentius
by an oath of safe conduct to leave the sanctuary, and so to place
himself in the emperor's power. The oath was violated, and Crescentius
perished by the hand of the executioner. Before long the pangs of
conscience drove both the emperor and his satellite to unburden their
souls in confession to Romuald. He ordered Thammus to embrace the
solitary life and
"His every future year,
In ceaseless pain and penance dree;"
a command which was unhesitatingly obeyed; while Otho himself accepted
a severe penance for his share in the crime, which was avenged on him
later by his victim's widow.
We now come upon a story which shows how Romuald's rule succeeded in
training such as had the true vocation to be real heroes of the
kingdom of heaven, and how the supernatural sanctity of his character
impressed itself on his faithful followers.
Boleslas, king of Poland, had besought Otho to send him a missionary
to convert his subjects, a people then, as ever, noted for a wild and
lawless ferocity. Otho at once appealed to Romuald, who communicated
the matter to his disciples, explaining to them the perils attending
the mission, and saying that he would lay no command upon any of them,
but that if any were willing to go and meet danger and death for
Christ's sake, he would gladly send him. At once two of his monks, by
name John and Benedict, came forward and offered to go. Before they
had been long in the country, they were set upon at midnight in their
hut, and murdered for the sake of treasures which they were supposed
to possess. In order to conceal their crime, the murderers set fire to
the hut, hoping to consume the bodies of their victims with the
dwelling. To their horror the flames refused to approach the bodies of
the holy men, and even the hut, built as it was of light and
inflammable materials, could not be made to burn. Trembling and
terror-struck, they then attempted to fly from the place; but an
invisible power compelled them to wander round and round the scene of
their crime, and held them enchained to the spot until daylight. The
matter came to the ears of the king, who went with his guards and
apprehended them. The soldiers would have put them to death at once,
but the king prevented them, saying that the criminals should be
reserved for the judgment of the martyrs. With their hands tied
together they were dragged into the hut, and forced up to the couch on
which the bodies yet lay, when in a moment their bonds fell off; and
the king, saying that the martyrs had forgiven and acquitted them,
ordered them to be set at liberty.
Meantime Romuald after vainly endeavouring to persuade Otho to lay
down the sceptre, and retire from the world, and predicting his
approaching death, which accordingly took place, had betaken himself
into Istria, and built a monastery in the neighbourhood of Parenzo.
Near this he lived, built into a cell, for two years, during which
time he made great advance in piety and in knowledge of the
Scriptures. At this time he experienced a great dryness of spirit,
which caused him to long and pray earnestly for the gift of holy
contrition. One day while in this state, singing the Psalter in his
cell, the words "I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way
wherein thou shalt go, and I will guide thee with Mine eye," came upon
him with a strange light and force; his dryness of spirit vanished in
a moment, he dissolved into tears, and from that day forward he never
again experienced lack of contrition.
His mission in Istria being accomplished, he prepared to return into
Italy. But the bishop of Parenzo left no stone unturned to keep him in
his diocese; when persuasion and entreaty failed, he resorted to
force, and forbade anyone to let Romuald have a boat in which to make
the voyage across the bay. Romuald, no way discomposed, sat down on
the shore to wait, saying that other boats from Italy were on their
way, and would soon come purposely to take him off. Before long the
vessels made their appearance, with an invitation to Romuald to
return; and in one of them the journey was safely accomplished.
Immediately on his arrival, he founded a new monastery, and filled it
with monks; labouring meanwhile with great zeal and success for the
conversion of the people in the vicinity. One day there, as Romuald
and the brethren were sitting in chapter, the brethren who had been
left in charge of the door came running in to give the alarm that a
thief was breaking into one of the cells. The monks ran to the place,
and caught the robber in the very act. They brought him to Romuald to
know what was to be done with him. "Well but, brethren," said the holy
man, looking pleasantly at them, "I really do not know what can be
done with such a rascal. If we put his eyes out, he won't be able to
see; if we cut off his hands, he won't be able to work; or his
feet--there will be no more walking for him. Bring him in, and give
him something to eat, while we consider what _is_ to be done with
him." And so says the story, "having ministered to his bodily wants,
and given him a sweet and gentle reproof, he dismissed the robber in
peace."
About this time intelligence of the martyrdom of the blessed martyr
Boniface reached Romuald, and inspired by the desire to win for
himself the martyr's crown, he at once formed a plan to take a
missionary journey into Hungary. But, before setting out, he proceeded
to consolidate his order by the foundation of three new monasteries,
one the parent house in the Val di Castro, and two others. Having
appointed an abbot and priors over these houses, he obtained a
commission from the Apostolic See for the conversion of the Huns, and
set forth on his expedition, accompanied by a party of twenty-four
monks; and such was the ardour and zeal that burned in the breasts of
all his disciples to encounter death for Christ, that he had great
difficulty to reconcile to their lot those whom he had decided to
leave behind.
Hardly, however, had they entered the confines of Hungary, when
Romuald was seized with a mysterious malady, which arrested their
progress; for as often as he attempted to renew his journey and push
forward to his destination, his sickness so increased in severity, as
to compel him to desist; whereas, whenever he only thought of giving
up the enterprise and returning homewards, the symptoms abated and his
strength returned. Judging this to be a divine warning, he resolved to
retrace his steps. Two of the brethren returned with him; the
remainder pursued their journey with Romuald's consent, though he
warned them that the crown of martyrdom would be granted to none of
them. Accordingly they met with all manner of persecution and
ill-treatment from the barbarious Huns, but to none of them was it
given to lay down his life for Christ.
On his return, hearing that some one had obtained the abbacy of the
monastery "in Classe," which would seem to have been reconstituted, by
perjury and simony, he made all haste hither to rebuke the intruder,
and exhort him to lay down his ill-gotten authority. The bad abbot in
a rage attempted to murder Romuald, who was only saved by the special
interposition of Providence. He returned to the monastery in the Val
di Castro, and occupied his cell in the neighbourhood. But before long
he experienced one of the many afflictions which befel him in the
course of his life through false brethren; for the abbot of his own
appointment, an unworthy monk, annoyed at the daily rebuke of his own
laxity, conveyed by Romuald's silent example of ascetic holiness,
managed to procure his expulsion from the territory. He did not move
far, however, but settled for a time at a place in the Apennines
called Agua Bella, where the disciples gathered round him, and began
to erect huts or cells for the hermit life. One day in the midst of
this work a secular priest who was helping the brethren in their work
was attacked by an intolerable toothache, and after bearing up against
the pain for some time, was reluctantly obliged to excuse himself to
the brethren, and to desist from his work. Moaning piteously he was
making his way home, when he encountered Romuald, who, from age and
infirmity, was unable to take any active part in the manual labour of
the brotherhood, and in answer to an enquiry from him explained why he
was leaving them. Romuald bade him open his mouth, and placing his
finger on the offending tooth desired him to apply to it a
rough-and-ready remedy much in vogue among the country folk. The
priest proceeded on his way, but scarce had he traversed a rood of
ground when the pain left him of a sudden, and he felt that he was
cured. Forthwith he returned to his work, loudly declaring the praises
of God, who had sent among them so bright a light, so eminent a worker
of miracles, as Romuald; and with great difficulty could the disciples
succeed in silencing him; for if such expressions reached Romuald's
ears, great was his displeasure.
In connection with this story, the biographer mentions an occurrence
which took place at Camaldoli; his cell there was overshadowed by a
large beech tree, which, for some reason or other, he desired might be
felled. The workmen began to cut it down, and were in the midst of
their work, when it became evident that the tree must fall right
across the hut and crush both the dwelling and its occupant. They all,
with one voice, besought him to come out; but, making the sign of the
cross towards the tree, he desired them to proceed; they obeyed, and
to the amazement of all, the tree swerved and fell wide of the cell.
"They all, therefore, thunderstruck at so great a miracle, raised
their voices to heaven in praise, and gave grateful thanks to God."
After setting everything in order in his monasteries in the Apennines,
Romuald revisited Istria, where he is said to have lived, built up[25]
in his cell, and in unbroken silence, for seven years.
"But though his lips were silent, his life preached," and innumerable
conversions were the fruit of his sojourning there. As the infirmities
of age began to creep over him, he became more and more austere in his
acts of self-mortification, pressing forward incessantly to new
victories over the flesh, and yielding less and less indulgence to
even the most innocent infirmities of his lower nature. But there was
no sourness in his asceticism; in the midst of his bitterest
mortifications his countenance bore at all times the impress of an
unruffled serenity and cheerfulness of spirit.
But the wanderings of Romuald's long life were not yet at an end. He
made a further excursion to the north, and settled for a while in
Styria. And these many wanderings, says his biographer, arose not from
fickleness of spirit, as if he were unable to rest long in one place,
but solely from the wonderful attraction which his presence exercised
where-ever he went. No sooner did he erect his cell anywhere, than men
flocked to him from every quarter to be guided by his teaching, and to
be edified by his life; so that the most complete solitudes speedily
become populous. And as soon as he had duly instructed those who came
to him in the discipline of a holy life, he would form them into a
community, appoint one of their number to be prior over them, and then
betake himself to some other solitude, soon to people that also, and
to be driven from it in the same way.
In Styria it is related that those who gathered around him, all lived
so devoutly, that the rage for mortification reached even to the
herdsmen and shepherds of the neighbourhood, who vied with the monks
and hermits in all the exercises of the religious life, fasting,
keeping silence, and administering the discipline to each other with
great zeal and earnestness. On which Peter Damian ejaculates, "Oh!
holy time of Romuald! in which, though the torments of persecution
were unknown, yet there was no lack of spontaneous martyrdom!"
The whole career of Romuald from the time of his profession, is one
continuous illustration of the two-fold force of reality in
religion--a force of attraction on the one hand, of repulsion on the
other. We see in him one, who in the depth and fervour of his
penitence, stedfastly adhered through a long life to his first
renunciation, not only of the pomps and vanities of this world, but of
the most necessary and innocent refinements of life, and by the mere
force of reality drew after him crowds of disciples of every class,
and peopled the waste places of his native land with monks and
hermits. We see, on the one hand, those in whom the grace of a true
vocation responded to the example and teaching of their master, led on
by degrees to vie with him in the fervour of his self-devotion; and
those, on the other hand, who sought in monasticism only a coward's
refuge from the temptations and trials of secular life, repelled
almost at once by the stern thoroughness of his religion, and by their
own unreality forced into rebellion against his rule.
At the age of 102 he visited the Apennines, seeking a new retreat, and
one day falling asleep beside a fountain in a pleasant plain among the
mountains, he dreamed that he saw a ladder set up between heaven and
earth, up which his monks ascended in white habits. On awaking, he
resolved to change the colour of the dress of his monks, and to found
a monastery on the spot. It was the property of a gentleman named
Maldoli, who at once gave it him, and the monastery was called Campo
Maldoli, whence the order assumed its name of Camaldoli.
Romuald died on June 19th, 1027. He is said to have attained the age
of 120, but this has been disputed with every show of reason by
Bollandus and Baronius. He died in his monastery of the Val di Castro,
in the Marches of Ancona, and was there buried. The elevation of the
relics took place in 1467, and they were translated to the Church of
S. Blase, in the town of Fabri, where they remain to this day. The
Roman Breviary celebrates his festival on the day of the translation,
which took place in the year 1481.
In Art he appears with his finger on his lips, and the ladder, he saw
in vision, at his side.
[24] Paximatium. A cake baked under the ashes on the hearth.
[25] Inclusus.
[Illustration: A learned Doctor and Church Historian.]
February 8.
S. JUVENTIUS, _B. of Pavia, 2nd cent._
SS. DIONYSIUS, ÆMILIAN, AND SEBASTIAN, _MM., in Lesser Armenia_.
SS. MARTYRS IN PERSIA, _under Cabades, beginning of 6th cent._
S. HONORATUS, _B. of Milan_, A.D. 570.
S. NICETIUS, _B. of Besancon, beginning of 7th cent._
S. PAUL, _B. of Verdun, circ._ A.D. 649.
S. ELFLEDA, _V. Abss. of Whitby_, A.D. 716.
S. MENGOLD, _M. at Huy in Belgium, circ._ A.D. 892.
S. CUTHMAN, _C. at Steyning in Sussex_.
B. PETER ALDOBRANDINI, _Card. B. of Albano, circ._ A.D. 1000.
S. STEPHEN, _Ab. Founder of the Order of Grandmont_, A.D. 1124.
S. JOHN OF MATHA, _C. Founder of the Trinitarians_, A.D. 1213.
B. ISAIAH BONER, _C. at Casimir and Cracow, circ._ A.D. 1380.
S. JEROME ÆMILIAN, _Founder of the Order of Somasch_, A.D. 1537.