as it does, out of the valley of the Llobregat on one side and that of
the Cardoner on the other. The railway station is at the foot of the
eminence, with the river between, and the effect of the steep cliffs,
crowned by the noble and loyal city, is very striking. Directly
opposite, as if it sprang out of the mount, rises the Seo, a venerable
cathedral of the fourteenth century, beautifully mellowed and embrowned
by time. Further to the left are the spires of the Carmen and the tower
of San Miguel; while at the right, but lower down, built into the very
side of the cliff, so that it seems like a continuation of it, is the
church of the Jesuits, with the Santa Cueva which gives celebrity to
the city. One would like to see the Holy Cave in its primitive
simplicity; but such was the devotion of pilgrims who came here in
thousands after the canonization of St. Ignatius that, to save it from
being carried off piecemeal, it was found necessary to place some
safeguard around it, and it is now enclosed within the walls of the
church.
Crossing the bridge that leads from the station, and walking along the
opposite bank beneath the long arms of the umbrageous plane-trees for
five minutes, we turned to the left, and, going up a short street,
found ourselves directly beneath the overhanging cliff, which is
tapestried with vines and the delicate fronds of the maiden-hair, kept
green and fresh by little cascades of clear water that come trickling
down the rocks with a pleasant murmur, glittering like the facets of a
thousand jewels in the bright morning sun. Here is the Holy Cave,
though no longer open on the side of the valley, towards which turn
with interest so many hearts from the ends of the earth. We passed
beneath the church walls, with its long line of sculptured saints, of
rather coarse workmanship in the Renaissance style, but producing a
striking effect from the valley below. One more turn to the left up a
steep path, and we were on the terrace leading to the entrance. A
statue of St. Ignatius is over the door. One always recognizes his
striking physiognomy, with the noble dome of solemn thought that crowns
it, and we saluted it with reverence and love, as we had done in many a
strange land, as a symbol of the paternal kindness we had met with from
the order to which he has bequeathed his spirit.
The church consists of a single aisle, with four small chapels on each
side, and a latticed gallery above for the inmates of the residence.
There is nothing remarkable about it, and, in fact, it was never
completed according to the original plan, owing to the suppression of
the order in Spain. Seeing an open door on the gospel side of the
sanctuary, we went directly towards it and found ourselves in a long,
narrow passage lined with portraits of the Jesuit saints, and, at the
further end, a doorway secured by a strong iron grating, above which is
graven:
SANTA CUEVA.
Finding the grating ajar, we pushed it back, and, descending three
stone steps, found ourselves in the Holy Cave. It is long and narrow,
being about thirty feet in length, seven in width, and about the same
in height. A small octagon window is cut through the wall that closes
the original entrance, and there is a feeble lamp hanging before the
altar, but neither gives light enough to disperse the gloom, and, as
there was no one in the cave, it was as silent and impressive as a
tomb. You could only hear the pleasant rippling of the water over the
rocks without. The pavement is the solid rock, and the upper part of
the cave is in its rough state, but the lower part of the walls is
faced with marble, and jasper, and a series of bas-reliefs that tell
the history of the saint. An inscription on the wall says:
“In this place, in the year 1522, St. Ignatius composed the book of
_Exercises_, the first written in the Society of Jesus, which has been
approved by a bull from his Holiness Paul III.”
At the right, as you enter, is a projection, or shelf, in the wall, on
which the _Spiritual Exercises_ were written, and there is a cross
hollowed in the rock where the saint used to trace the holy sign before
beginning to write. One’s first impulse is to kiss the ground where his
holy feet once stood, and pray where he so often prayed. St. Ignatius
said he learned more in one short hour of prayer in the cave of Manresa
than all the doctors in the world could have taught him. Here, like St.
Jerome, trembling before the judgments of God, he used to smite his
breast with a hard stone. Here he wept over the sufferings of Christ,
with whose bodily Presence he was often favored, as well as the
presence of the angels and their Queen. “Flow fast, my tears,” wrote he
in this very place, “break forth, my heart, in bitter sighs, that I may
weep worthily over the sorrows of my Saviour! O Jesus! may I die before
I cease to have a horror of sin. God liveth, in whose sight I stand;
for while there is breath in me, and the spirit of life in my nostrils,
my lips shall not give utterance nor my heart consent to
iniquity.”[200]
A phalanx from his right hand is preserved here in a crystal reliquary,
set in gold and jewels, on which is graven the Scriptural exclamation
of Pope Paul III. after reading the Constitutions of St. Ignatius:
Digitus Dei est hic. Paulus III.
—The finger of God is here!...
Over the altar is a large bas-relief of the saint, kneeling before a
cross in the Holy Cave and gazing up at the Virgin, who, enthroned on a
cloud, is dictating to him the _Spiritual Exercises_, according to the
constant local tradition. This relief is framed in black marble with
white mouldings, and on each side are angels of white marble playing on
musical instruments. These, as well as the other sculptures, were done
by Francisco Grau, a Manresan artist of local celebrity. Among the
others is one in which St. Ignatius, arrayed like the Spanish
_caballero_ he was, with sword in hand, is keeping his vigil before the
altar of Our Lady of Montserrat. In the next he is giving his rich
garments to a beggar, coming down from the mount. Beyond is the miracle
of the Pozo, of which we shall speak further on, and many such.
There were, at the time of our visit, four Jesuit Fathers in the
adjoining _Casa_, and a daily service was held in the Santa Cueva. Many
indulgences are attached to the place, on the usual conditions, granted
by Pope Gregory XV. and other pontiffs. The cave, of course, was
regarded from the time of St. Ignatius as a place singularly favored by
Heaven. In his day it belonged to Don Fernando Roviralta, a great
friend of the saint. He lived to be over a hundred years of age, and at
his death he bequeathed it to his nephew, Don Mauricio Cardona, who
sold it January 27, 1602, to the Marquesa de Ailona, who in the
following year gave it to the Jesuits. As soon as it fell into their
possession means were used to ornament it, and in the course of time a
_Casa de retiro_ was built adjoining, with a church intended to be one
of the finest in Catalonia. The Countess of Fuentes, a native of
Manresa, gave one thousand escudos to ornament the Holy Cave. Don Pedro
Osorio, commissary-general of Lombardy, came here on foot from
Barcelona when seventy years of age, and presented eight thousand
escudos for the same purpose. And finally the crown took it under its
protection, and Philip V. gave it a valuable chalice on which were
graven the royal arms. Not only Don John of Austria, but several of the
kings of Spain, came here to visit a place of historic as well as
religious interest, for the mysterious influences that have gone out of
this Holy Cave have been a power in the world. The public documents of
Manresa show the devotion of the Christian world to have been such that
some days in the year 1606 there were more than a thousand visitors,
many of whom came from a distance. They used to carry away with them
pieces of the Holy Cave, which they preserved as relics. A fragment was
sent to Queen Margaret of Austria, who had it set in gold surrounded by
rubies and diamonds, and wore it on festivals of great solemnity.
When St. Ignatius came to Manresa there were only about a thousand
families in the place, it having been reduced by wars and pestilence to
one-fourth its former size. It is said that he stopped at the bridge
leading to the city to pray at the chapel of Nuestra Señora de la
Guia—Our Lady of Guidance—and was there supernaturally directed to the
cave. It was then surrounded by shrubs and brambles, and was almost
inaccessible. Though so near the city, it seemed retired, for it lay
towards the broad valley, and was shaded by thorn-bushes and the
cistus, which gave it an aspect of solitude. The pavement was uneven,
and it was much smaller than at the present day. The birds of the air
made it their home, and water trickled down the walls. The first thing
the saint did was to prostrate himself on the ground and kiss it, then,
with a sharp stone, trace a cross on the wall, still to be seen.
From the windows of the passage now leading to the Santa Cueva is the
same landscape St. Ignatius had before him from the mouth of the cave;
only in his day the country was wilder, and therefore more beautiful,
if possible, and there were no factories, no railway, in the valley to
disturb the peaceful solitude. It is certainly a landscape of
surpassing beauty, and we could imagine his exaltation of soul in
gazing at it; for St. Ignatius had the soul of a poet and was a great
admirer of nature. He loved to walk in the meadows and gardens, to
observe the form, color, and odor of flowers; and from time to time,
when at Rome, used to go forth on his balcony to look at the starry
heavens, as if to refresh his soul.
Directly beneath the cliff is the swift-gliding stream, and, beyond it,
a hill crowned with the tower of Santa Catalina, then dark with sombre
pines and gigantic oaks, but now descending in gentle terraces covered
with the silvery olive. At the left opens the smiling valley of the
Llobregat, covered with perpetual verdure, once called the Valle del
Paraiso—the Vale of Paradise—and in the distance, against the bluest of
heavens, rise the marvellous pinnacles of Montserrat, the sacred
mountain of Spain.
Over the present entrance to the Holy Cave is an ancient stone
crucifix, once part of the famous Cruz del Tort, at which St. Ignatius
so often went to pray. On the eve of his festival, 1627, the Christ was
seen, to the astonishment of every one present at Vespers, to exude
blood, first from the side, then from the hands and feet, and finally
from the thorn-crowned head. We went to visit the cross from which it
was removed for preservation. On leaving the Santa Cueva we kept on, up
the side of the hill, by a circuitous road the saint must often have
trod, then towards the east by an old narrow street. We passed a
crucifix in a niche, with red curtains before it, and a hanging lamp.
Just beyond came several peasants with scarlet Catalan caps, broad
purple sashes, blue trowsers, black velvet jackets, and alpargatas
laced with wide blue tape across their white stockings. They were
driving mules that looked as gay as their owners, with their heads
streaming with bright tassels and alive with tinkling bells. We soon
came to a house on which was a fresco representing the Virgin appearing
to St. Ignatius. Just opposite this was a terrace on the edge of the
hill, where stood the Cruz del Tort, a lofty stone cross with several
stone steps around the base. It was on these steps that St. Ignatius,
while praying here one day, as he was accustomed to do, and shedding
floods of tears, had the mystery of the Holy Trinity made clear to him
by some vision which he compares to three keys of a musical instrument.
His eyes were opened to a new sense of divine things. His doubts fell
off like a garment. His whole nature seemed changed, and he felt ready,
if need were, to die for what was here made manifest to him. On the
cross is this inscription:
Hic habvit St. Ignativs
Trinitatis visionem, 1522.
While we were saying a prayer at the foot of the cross a peasant woman,
who was passing by, stopped to tell us how San Ignacio came here to do
penance and had a vision of God. The terrace occupies an opening
between the houses which frame an incomparable view over the valley of
the Llobregat, with the solemn turrets of Montserrat in full sight. The
tall gray cross against that golden sky, with the Vale of Paradise
spread out at the foot, is certainly one of the most ravishing views it
is possible to conceive. Steps descend from the cross, winding a little
way down the side of the cliff, which is covered with ivy, to a pretty
fountain fed by clear water bubbling from the rocks.
Turning back from the Cruz del Tort, and passing through the suburbs,
we soon came into the city among streets that looked centuries old. We
passed San Antonio in a niche, and soon came to a small Plaza with a
painting of St. Dominic at the corner, and in the centre a stone
obelisk with a long inscription, of which we give a literal
translation:
“To Ignatius de Loyola, son of Beltran, a native of Cantabria,
the founder of the Society of Jesus, who, in his thirtieth
year, while valiantly fighting in defence of his country, was
dangerously wounded, but being cured by the special mercy of
God, and inspired with an ardent desire to visit the holy
places at Jerusalem, after making a vow of chastity, set forth
on the way, and, laying aside his military ensigns in the
temple of Mary, the Mother of God, at Montserrat, clothed
himself in sackcloth, and in this state of destitution came to
this place, where with fastings and prayers he wept over his
past offences, and avenged them like a fresh soldier of Christ.
In order to perpetuate the memory of his heroic acts, for the
glory of Christ and the honor of the Society, Juan Bautista
Cardona, a native of Valencia, bishop of Vich, and appointed to
the see of Tortosa, out of great devotion to the said father
and his order, dedicates this stone to him as a most holy man
to whom the whole Christian world is greatly indebted, Sixtus
V. being pope, and Philip II. the great and Catholic king of
Spain.”
On another side is the following:
“This monument, having been overthrown during a time of
calamity, has been restored and commended to posterity by the
most noble ayuntamiento of the city of Manresa, out of
ineffaceable love, Pius V. being Sovereign Pontiff, Carlos IV.
king, and Ignacio de la Justicia governor of the city. 1799.”
Bishop Cardona, the first to set up this monument, was an able writer
of the golden age of Spanish literature, and a man of such vast
knowledge that he was employed by Philip II. in the formation of the
royal library at the Escorial. He was a great admirer of St. Ignatius,
and left an inedited manuscript, now in the National Library, entitled
_Laus St. Ignatii_.
While we were standing before this obelisk we were agreeably convinced
that, notwithstanding all the ravages of pestilence and the massacres
of the French, the good and loyal city was in no danger of being
depopulated; for the doors of a large edifice on one side of the square
opened, and forth came a swarm of boys that could not have been
equalled, it seemed to us, since the famous crusade of children in the
thirteenth century. They came from a school in what was once the
Jesuits’ college, built out of the ancient hospital of Santa Lucia,
where St. Ignatius used to minister to the sick, and sometimes seek
shelter himself. This was what we were in search of. Connected with the
college is the modern church of St. Ignatius, and from one side of the
nave you enter the old church of the hospital, which has been carefully
preserved. Here we found the Capilla del Rapto, a small square chapel,
opening into the aisle and covered with frescos. It is so called
because it was here St. Ignatius lay rapt in ecstasy from the hour of
complines on the eve of Passion Sunday till the same hour on the
following Saturday. It was during this wonderful withdrawal into the
spiritual world that the foundation of the Society of Jesus was
revealed to him, as is stated in an inscription on the wall. For more
than two centuries a solemn octave has been annually celebrated here in
commemoration of this divine ecstasy. Beneath the simple altar lies the
saint in effigy, wearing the coarse robe which made the _gamins_ of
that day call him _El Saco_, or Old Sackcloth, till they found out he
was a saint. Over the altar is a painting of the Rapto, in which,
unable to endure the vision of Christ Glorified with mortal eyes, St.
Ignatius is mercifully rapt in ecstasy. Angels bend around him, holding
the banner of the Holy Name that has become the watchword of the
Society. _In hoc vocabitur tibi nomen._ On one side of the chapel he is
represented catechising the children, and on the other he stands in his
penitential garments, exhorting the patients of the hospital, while
some lord, doubtless Don Andrés de Amigant, is kneeling to him in
reverence.
The original pavement of stone is covered with a wooden floor to
preserve it, but a brass plate, on which is inscribed the name of
Jesus, is raised to show the spot where the saint’s head lay in his
ecstasy. The stone is worn with kisses, and has been partly cut away by
pilgrims. Behind the chapel is the room where he used to teach children
the catechism, and there is the same old stone stoup for holy-water
that was used in his day. Here, too, is an inscription:
Serviendo en este Hospital
Ignacio a gloria Divina,
Enseñaba la Doctrina
En las piedras de este umbral.
A few months after his arrival at Manresa St. Ignatius fell ill and was
taken to this hospital among the poor with whom he now identified
himself. But Don Andrés de Amigant, a nobleman of the place, soon had
him removed to his own house, where he and his wife nursed him till he
recovered. It was a pious custom of theirs to take two patients from
the hospital every year, and tend them as if our Saviour in person. For
this Don Andrés was styled “Simon the Leper” by the wits of Manresa,
and Doña Iñés, his wife, was called Martha. This admirable charity had
been practised in the family nearly two hundred years. It appears by a
MS. in possession of the Marquis de Palmerola, its present
representative, that a remote ancestor of his, Gaspar de Amigant,
introduced the practice into his family in 1364, out of devotion. He
added two rooms to his house, where he kept two poor patients,
providing every remedy and means of subsistence, and, as soon as they
recovered, diligently sought out others to supply their places, that,
as he said, so religious an exercise might never be wanting in his
family. How faithful his descendants were to so holy a practice appears
from the statement that Juan de Amigant in 1478, having, “according to
his custom,” received a woman named Ignès Buxona into his house, she
bequeathed to him when she died, having no relations, the patronage of
the benefice of San Francisco in the Seo of Manresa.
Many traditions concerning St. Ignatius have been preserved in this
pious family. A cross has been recently discovered on the wall of the
chapel of _S. Ignacio enfermo_ during some repairs, similar to that in
the Santa Cueva. And there is a curious old family painting
commemorating his illness in the house. The convalescent saint is
represented sitting up in bed, supported by the left hand of Don
Andrés, who with his right offers him a cup of broth. Behind are Doña
Angela, his mother, Doña Iñés, his wife, and all the other members of
the household, each one with some restoring dish in hand. In front of
the bed is the inscription:
Stvs
Ignativs
de Loyola
lang
vens
—that is, St. Ignatius ill.
At the foot of the bed is another:
Hæc omnia evenervnt 22 Ivlii anno 1522.
—All these things took place July 22, 1522. His illness, by this,
appears to have occurred about four months after his arrival at
Manresa.
The honor of having St. Ignatius was disputed by many noble families of
the place. In the _patio_ of one of the houses he sometimes visited, in
the street called Sobreroca, is a picture of him, now indulgenced by
the diocesan authority.
The college of St. Ignatius was founded in 1603. The ayuntamiento of
Manresa, touched by a discourse during the Lent of 1601 at the Seo,
purchased the ancient hospital of Santa Lucia, and established the
Jesuits here soon after. The college became a flourishing institution,
and they were before long able to build a new church and adorn the
precious chapel of the Rapto.
When Carlos III. issued the decree for the expulsion of the Jesuits,
April 3, 1767, the residence at Manresa was at first overlooked, and
the fathers, as usual, celebrated the octave of the _Maravilloso
Rapto_. On the very day it ended, April 11, the eve of Palm Sunday, at
the same hour when St. Ignatius awoke from his mysterious trance,
crying: “Ay Jesus! Ay Jesus!” the venerable fathers were seized and
carried away amid the tears of the citizens to Tarragona, where they
were put on a vessel of war, and, with nine hundred from Aragon, were
transported to Ajaccio. The island of Corsica had on it at one time
three thousand Jesuits who, for no crime, had been barbarously torn
from their native land. Among them were the venerable Pignatelli and
several who were eminent for letters. But on the 15th of August, 1769,
Napoleon Bonaparte was born at Ajaccio, who proved the scourge of
Spain.
The churches of the Jesuits were dismantled and the temporalities sold.
The vestments and sacred vessels were given to poor churches of the
diocese, but even these were mostly sold afterwards to help to defray
the expenses of the war of independence. The chalice of Philip V.,
given to the Santa Cueva, was, however, saved.
Manresa has the glory of having been the first city in Catalonia to
sound the war-cry against Bonaparte, and by the battle of Bruch, in
which a handful of men routed the French army, to convince Spain that
the Great Captain’s troops were not invincible. After the French had
captured Tortosa they came to Manresa, and the house of the Santa Cueva
was turned into a barrack and the church into a stable. With the
restoration of the Bourbons returned the Jesuits. At Manresa the people
rang the bells, and went out to meet them with cries of _Viva la
Compañia_! The mules were taken from their carriages, and men drew them
to the Seo, where the clergy and people with tears of emotion chanted
the _Te Deum_. On July 25, 1816, they were reinstated in their former
places, the keys of the Santa Cueva were presented to them in a silver
basket, and on the 31st of July the festival of St. Ignatius was
celebrated with solemn pomp in the Seo, with a congratulatory discourse
on the restoration of the society.
Manresa has always been a religious city, as is to be seen by the
number of solidly-built churches and the remains of its monastic
institutions. When St. Ignatius quitted the place it is said there was
hardly a person left unconverted. And when he was canonized there was a
general explosion of joy, exhibited in Spanish fashion by dances,
comedies, Moorish fights, illuminations, fireworks, salvos of
artillery, triumphal arches and bowers—all of which contrast strangely
with the penitential life of the saint in his cave.
There is something very friendly and cordial about the people.
Inquiring our way to the Seo of an old woman, she said as she pointed
it out: “Go with God; may he preserve you from all ill.”
We went on through the steep, narrow streets, which are often hewn out
of the rock. The houses show traces of war and violence, and would be
gloomy but for the galleries and hanging gardens with flowers and
orange-trees. The women were gossiping from balcony to balcony. The
_plazas_ were lively with trade. Everywhere was an interesting picture
of Spanish life. In one place we passed a group of women around a well,
washing at a huge tank, beating their clothes with wooden paddles, all
laughing, all talking, all looking up with a flash of wonderful
expression in their brown faces.
The Seo is an immense Gothic edifice, the first stone of which was laid
October 9, 1328, but the crypt is several centuries older. The nave is
of enormous width, which gives it an air of grandeur, and there are
some fine stained windows, though greatly injured by the French. It is
gloomy, but, when lighted up for a solemn service, presents an imposing
appearance. There are queer Saracens’ heads on the walls of the choir,
and steps lead to one of those subterranean churches full of solemn
gloom so favorable to meditation and solitary prayer.