CHAPTER IX

ROCK MONASTERIES

The early Syrian and Egyptian hermits would have become a sect of

manichæan heretics but for the popularity of the profession and the

Arian persecution. In quitting the world they cut themselves off from

the churches. They no more took part in its assemblies, participated in

the sacraments, nor observed the sacred seasons. Paul, the first

hermit, deserted the society of men when aged fifteen, and lived till

the age of a hundred and ten in solitude without ever having partaken

of the Bread of Life. S. Mary of Egypt spent forty-seven years in the

Wilderness, stark naked, covered with hair like a wild beast, and only

received the Viaticum when dying, by the chance of a priest passing

that way. A fifteenth century statue of her, nearly life-size, is in

the National Museum at Munich, removed from the Cathedral of Augsburg

as indelicate. S. Antony spent twenty years in a sort of cistern, and

only twice a year received loaves, let down from above through the

roof. Certainly all that time he was voluntarily excommunicate. If S.

Hilarius ever made sacramental communion we are not told, but we do

know that he was for ever hiding himself from where were his fellow-

men, in wilds and oases, and where there were no Christian churches.

In the desert, times and seasons slipped away, and became confounded,

so that by the first hermits neither Easter nor the Lord's Day were

observed. In the Gospel, the works of mercy, feeding the hungry, giving

drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and

prisoners, are appointed as the means of deserving a reward in heaven,

but the anchorites neglected every one, cut themselves adrift from the

chance of performing them, and sought to merit heaven in their own way.

Christ declared, "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink

His blood, ye have no life in you," but they wilfully lived apart from

the sacramental life as surely as any modern Quaker.

But when crowds of refugees from the duties and pleasures of life

sought the desert, they ceased to be solitaries, and organisation on a

monarchical system under an abbot became necessary; and when bishops

and priests fled to them, or were banished and sought them, during the

Arian persecution, they came to plume themselves as champions of

orthodoxy, and conformed to Catholic usage, assembling on the Lord's

Day for prayers and the Eucharist. When the fashion set in for

deserting the world, floods of men, women, and children threw

themselves into it, and flowed into the desert during a century with

resistless force. Pachomius, who died at fifty-six, reckoned three

thousand monks under his rule; the monasteries of Tabenna soon included

seven thousand, and S. Jerome affirms that as many as fifty thousand

were present at the annual gathering of the general congregation of

monasteries that followed his rule.

There were five thousand on the mountain of Nitria; near Arsinoë the

Abbot Serapion governed ten thousand. It has even been asserted that

there were as many monks in the deserts of Egypt as inhabitants in the

towns. The immense majority of these religious were cenobites; that is

to say, they lived in the same enclosure, and were united under an

elected head, the abbot. The cenobitical life rapidly and necessarily

superseded that of the solitary. In fact the monks were now no more

solitaries than are the jackdaws in a cleft, or the bees in a hive, but

unlike the jackdaws, they were under discipline, and unlike bees were

without a sting.

It was not mere love of an indolent life and a desire to escape from

military service that swelled the numbers in the desert. The condition

of the decaying Roman world led men to despair of the Commonwealth, and

of the possibility of their being able to save their own souls in the

midst of the general corruption. "The people were exhausted by

compulsory taxes, to be spent in wars which did not concern them, or in

Court luxury in which they had no share. In the municipal towns liberty

and justice were dead. The curials, who were responsible for the

payment of the public moneys, tried their best to escape the unpopular

office, and when compelled to serve wrung the money in self-defence out

of the poorer inhabitants by every kind of tyranny. Private profligacy

among all ranks was such as cannot be described in any modern pages.

The regular clergy of the cities were able to make no stand against the

general corruption of the age because--at least if we are to trust such

writers as Jerome and Chrysostom--they were giving themselves up to

ambition and avarice, vanity and luxury; and, as a background to all

these seething heaps of decay, misrule and misery, hung the black cloud

of the barbarians, waxing stronger and stronger so that the wisest

Romans saw clearly as the years rolled on, they would soon be the

conquerors of the Caesars and the masters of the Western world.

"No wonder, if in such a state of things, the minds of men were stirred

by a passion akin to despair, which ended in a new and grand form of

suicide. It would have ended often, but for Christianity, in such an

actual despair as that which had led in past ages more than one noble

Roman to slay himself, when he lost all hope for the Republic. That the

world--such at least as they saw it then--was doomed, Scripture and

their own reason taught them. They did not merely believe, but saw, in

the misery and confusion, the desolation and degradation around them,

that the world was passing away, and the lust thereof, and that only he

who did the will of God could abide for ever. They did not merely

believe, but saw that the wrath of God was revealed from Heaven against

all unrighteousness of men. Under these terrible forebodings, men began

to flee from a doomed world, and try to be alone with God, if by any

means they might save each man his own soul in that dread day."

[Footnote: Kingsley (C.), "The Hermits," Lond. 1868.]

In the year 336 Athanasius was in exile at Trèves. He is traditionally

held to have there occupied a cave beyond the Moselle. The Bishop

Maximinus received him with honour. Early in his episcopate Athanasius

had visited the congregation of monks on the Upper Nile, and he was

enthusiastic in his admiration of their manner of life. It is supposed

that whilst at Trèves he began to write the "Life of S. Anthony," if

indeed he was the author of that popular work. Here he is thought to

have been visited by Maxentius, Bishop of Poitiers, and brother of the

Bishop of Trèves, bringing with him Martin, then a friend and pupil of

S. Hilary, this latter at the time a wealthy noble of Poitiers. And

from the discourse of Athanasius, if this meeting actually took place,

the imagination of Martin was fired with ambition to reproduce in

Europe the life of the fathers of the desert in Egypt.

Anyhow, to this residence of Athanasius at Trèves, "one may trace the

introduction into the Western Church of the principle and laws of

ascetic self-renunciation, which, though they had run to great extremes

in the Nitrian desert and in the valley of the Nile, assumed noble form

when the idea took possession of the more phlegmatic temperament and

practical energies of the West. Without discussing the vexed question

of the authorship of the 'Life of S. Anthony,' which is referred by

many traditional testimonies to Athanasius, we think it obvious, from

the 'Confessions' of Augustine, that the religious circles at Trèves

had been strongly moved by the self-abandonment and entire consecration

to the religious life of the exiled bishops. It was here, while reading

the 'Life of S. Anthony' that the friends of Augustine at length

yielded themselves to God." [Footnote: Reynolds (H. R.), "Athanasius,

his Life and Life-work," Lond., R.T.S., 1889, p. 54.]

Martin was at Poitiers in 361 when S. Hilary had returned from exile to

his bishopric and to his wife and daughter. He had been living the

eremitic life on the isle of Gallinaria, shaped so like a snail, off

the coast of Albenga, and had nearly poisoned himself with trying to

eat hellebore leaves. On reaching Poitiers, he told his old friend the

Bishop, that he desired to follow the monastic life in his diocese, and

obtained his cheerful consent. Some way up the Clain, five miles from

Poitiers, the little river glides through a broad valley, with meadows

on its left bank often overflowed, but with a ridge of conglomerate

rocks pierced with caves on the right bank. Here Martin settled, and

there can exist no manner of doubt that his first settlement was in one

of these grottoes, though at a later period the monastery was moved to

the further side of the river, when the caves proved inadequate to

harbour all the candidates for the religious life who placed themselves

under his direction. One of his monks, however, named Felix, refused to

quit his cave that is now shown, and in which he died perhaps, in an

inaccessible cliff that is surmounted by a cross.

The friable conglomerate has yielded to storm and rain, and much of it

has crumbled down; but the openings to the caves are visible from

below, where the slopes are purple and fragrant with violets and,

later, pink with primulas, and the rocks are wreathed with clematis. A

pure spring bursts forth at the foot and works its way through beds of

forget-me-not and marsh marigold to the Clain.

Martin had been ordained exorcist and then priest.

His most trusted disciples were Felix, Macarius, and Florentius. As

already said, except in the Gallo-Roman cities, Christianity did not

exist. The country-folk were pagans. Martin lifted up his eyes and saw

that the fields were white to harvest. He preached throughout Poitou

and La Vendée, and visited the coast to the isles of Yeu and Ré. He

travelled on foot, or mounted on an ass, sought every village and

hamlet, to sow the seed of the Word of God, and where he could not go

himself, he sent his disciples. Ligugé, his monastery, became a centre

of evangelisation to the country round. It was the first monastery

planted on Gaulish soil. It was ruined by the Saracens in 732, and

again by the Normans in 848. It was rebuilt in 1040. But Ligugé never

had a worse enemy than one of its abbots, Arthur de Cossé. He made

public confession of Calvinism; gave up the abbey to be pillaged, sold

its lands for his own advantage, and did everything in his power to

utterly ruin it. It owed its restoration to the care of François de

Servier, Bishop of Bayonne.

Ligugé was, however, destroyed at the French Revolution. In 1864 it was

acquired by the Benedictines, and rebuilt on a large scale. It was

enriched with a valuable library, and became a nursery of Christian art

and literature. But the law of 1901 banished the monks, and the vast

building is now empty, as the State has not so far found any use for

it.

In the year 971 the episcopal throne of Tours was vacant, and the

citizens at once decided on securing Martin as their bishop. But when

he arrived on foot, dust-covered, with shaggy hair, the bishops

assembled to consecrate protested against the election. It was

customary to choose a bishop from among the nobility and the wealthy.

Defensor, the Bishop of Angers, signalised himself by his opposition.

He absolutely refused to consecrate the poor dishevelled monk. But when

the lector opening the psalter at hazard read out the words, "Out of

the mouths of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength, because

of thine enemies: that thou mightest still the enemy and the defender"

(defensor), [Footnote: So in the old Gallican Version; in the Vulgate

the word is _Ultor_.] the people raised a great shout, God

himself had spoken, and the bishops had to yield to the popular will.

Martin was then aged fifty-four.

No sooner was he installed than he cast about him to establish on the

banks of the Loire a monastic colony such as he had founded at Ligugé.

He found a place where in later times rose the great abbey of

Marmoutier, the wealthiest in France, and with a church that was called

the Gem of Touraine. But then it was merely a chalk cliff rising above

the Loire on its right bank, two miles above Tours, and on the summit

had stood the old Gaulish city of Altionos. The Romans had transferred

the capital of the Turones to its present site, and had given it the

name of Cæsarodunum. But Althionos was probably not wholly abandoned,

poor Gauls still dwelt there in their huts, and nothing had been done

to bring them into the fold of Christ's Church.

The cliff with its caves had already been sanctified. It had been a

refuge in time of persecution, and there S. Gatianus, the first Bishop

of Tours, in the third century had sheltered. But now Martin and his

disciples set to work to enlarge and remodel the subterranean

habitations; they scooped out a chapel, and they formed a baptistry.

In 853 the Northmen came up the Loire and massacred a hundred and

sixteen of the monks. Only twenty-four escaped. In 982 Marmoutier was

refounded by Eudo, Count of Blois, and the noble basilica built below

the rock was consecrated by Pope Urban II in 1095. The vast wealth of

the abbey led to enlargements and splendour of architectural work; but

in 1562 the Huguenots wrecked it, burned the precious library with all

its MSS., broke down the altars, and shattered the windows. Its

complete destruction, however, was due to the Revolution, when in 1791

it was completely pulled down, nothing left of the splendid church but

the tower and a portion of the northern transept that was glued to the

rock. The oratory of S. Martin was levelled to the rock on which it

stood.

[ILLUSTRATION: LE TROU BOUROU. A cave fortress on the Beune. The hole

through which the man is peering was used for defence of the steep

ascent to the entrance. Note the arrangement for barring the door.]

[ILLUSTRATION: ROCK BAPTISTERY OF S. MARTIN, MARMOUTIER. Elevated and

occupied by S. Martin, Bishop of Tours, A.D. 371-396. On the right-

hand side is the well, on the left the font for immersion. The niches

in the wall are for the holy oils. ]

But the fact of the transfer of the monastery to the flat land below

the cliff had this effect, that the old caves, the original cradle of

Marmoutier, were neglected and forgotten. They were overgrown by

brambles, crumbled away, and none visited them.

In 1859 the oratory in which S. Martin had prayed was restored or

rather rebuilt from its foundations.

One night when Martin was engaged therein in reading the Scriptures,

the door was burst open and in broke a party of masqueraders. They had

disguised themselves as Jupiter, Minerva, and Mercury, and some damsel

devoid of modesty presented herself before the startled modesty of the

bishop without disguise of any sort, as Venus rising from the foam of

the sea. Some were dressed as Wood Druses very much like the devils of

popular fancy. Mercury was a sharp, shrewd wag, and bothered the saint

greatly, as he admitted to Sulpicius, his biographer, but Jupiter was a

"stupid sot." At the rebuke of Martin the whole gang good-humouredly

withdrew.

I was in this cell on Mid Lent Sunday, when hearing a noise outside, I

looked forth and saw a party of masqueraders frolic and frisk past on

their way to a tavern where was to be a costume ball. So goes the

world. Some fifteen hundred and thirty years ago the Gospel was being

preached in Tours, as it is now, men and women were striving to follow

its precepts as now, and tomfoolery was rampant in Tours fifteen

hundred and thirty years ago as it is now.

And now, as to the remains in the rock of the primitive Marmoutier. The

grottoes of S. Gatianus and of the disciples of S. Martin have been

cleared out. There is a little arcade of three round-headed unadorned

arches cut in the cliff that served as a cloister, and there is the old

baptistry where Martin admitted his converts into the Christian Church,

sunk in the rock for adult and complete submersion, and the niches in

the wall for the sacred oils. Adjoining is the cave in which the

neophyte unclothed and afterwards reclothed himself. There are graves

sunk in the rock, where some of his disciples were laid, and there is

the chapel partly in the rock and partly rebuilt, dedicated later by

Gregory of Tours to the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus, but of which in

after times a different story was told--namely that seven brothers who

had been devoted disciples of Martin prayed him when he was dying that

they might speedily follow, and on the anniversary of his death they

all seven fell asleep.

There is another cave that escaped destruction at the Revolution,

though opening out of the transept of the church. It is that of the

Penitence of Brice.

Brice had been adopted as a child by Martin, and brought up by him to

be a monk. But Brice had no liking for the religious life, and was very

disrespectful to his master. One day a sick man came to see Martin and

asked of Brice where the saint was. "The fool is yonder," answered he,

"staring at the sky like an idiot."

One day Martin rebuked Brice for buying horses and slaves at a high

price, and even providing himself with beautiful young girls. Brice was

furious, and said. "I am a better Christian than you. I have had an

ecclesiastical education from my youth, and you were bred up amidst the

license of a camp."

On the death of S. Martin, the people of Tours, tired of having a saint

at their head, with proverbial fickleness chose Brice as his successor

because rich--he was said to have been the son of the Count of Nevers--

and because he was anything but a saint. As bishop he showed little

improvement, and gave great scandal. Lazarus, Bishop of Aix, accused

him before several councils. At last a gross outrage on morals was

attributed to him, and caused his flight. A nun gave birth to a child,

and confessed that she had been seduced by the bishop. Brice either ran

away from Tours or was deposed. A priest named Justinian was elected in

his room. On the death of Justinian, Armentius succeeded him. Brice

remained in exile till the death of Armentius, and then ventured back

to Tours to reclaim his episcopal throne. He was allowed to reascend

it, and he occupied it for seven years; and the cave in which he did

penance for his frailties and the scandal he had caused is intact to

this day. He died, after having been nominally bishop for forty-seven

years, the greater portion of which time he had spent in exile. The

Church of Rome is certainly very charitably disposed in numbering him

among the saints. Why he should be regarded as the patron of wool-

combers one cannot see, [Footnote: The following prayer is recommended

by the Archbishop of Tours to the faithful for use. "Nous vous

supplions, Seigneur, par l'intercession de S. Brice, Evêque et

Confesseur, de conserver votre peuple qui se confie en votre amour;

afin que, par les vertues de notre Saint Pontife, nous méritions de

partager avec lui les joies celestes." The virtues of Brice!] but as

such he enjoyed some popularity.

There is yet another cave in the Marmoutier rocks that may be

mentioned; it is that of S. Leobard. Leobard was a saint of the sixth

century, a native of Auvergne, who, coming to pray at the tomb of S.

Martin, resolved on spending the rest of his days in one of the cells

of Martin's monastery in the rocks. He settled into an untenanted cave,

which he enlarged, and lived in it for twenty-two years. At the

extremity he dug a deep pit in which he desired to be buried standing

with his face to the East, thus to await the coming of the Lord. But

although his desire was fulfilled, the monks of Marmoutier would not

let his body rest there, but hauled it up, that it might become an

object of devotion to the faithful.

The Abbey of Brantôme on the Dronne (Dep. Dordogne) was originally,

like Marmoutier, a cavern monastery, and like those of Marmoutier, the

monks waxing fat, they kicked and abandoned the grottoes for a stately

structural monastery. The beautiful Romanesque tower of the church

stands on top of a rock that is honeycombed with their cells. The

church, consisting of nave only, is of marvellous beauty, early

pointed, and built on a curve, as there was but little space to spare

between the river and the cliffs. Unhappily church and cloister were

delivered over to be "restored" by that arch-wrecker, Abbadie, who has

done such incalculable mischief in Perigord and the Angoumois, and his

hoof-mark is visible here. The monks, not content with a sumptuous

Gothic abbey, pulled it down and built one in the baroque style, and

had but just completed it when the Revolution broke out "and the flood

came and swept them all away." In the court behind this modern

structure is to be seen the cliff perforated with caves; it has,

however, been cut back to the detriment of these, so that we have them

shorn of their faces. Nevertheless they are interesting. The old

monolithic chapel of the monastery remains, turned into a pigeonry, and

with the steps left that gave access to the pulpit, and two pieces of

sculpture on a very large scale, cut out of the living rock. One

represents the Crucifixion with SS. Mary and John; the other has been

variously explained as the Last Judgment or the Triumph of Death. It

perhaps represents the Triumph of Christ over Death. His figure and the

kneeling figures of His Mother and the Beloved Disciple were, however,

never completed, and remain in the rough.

Beneath the figure of Christ is Death, figured by a head surmounted by

a crown of bones, and a crest representing a spectre armed with a club.

On each side is an angel blowing a trumpet. Below are ranged a dozen

heads of popes, bishops, princes, knights, and ladies, in boxes to

represent graves.

[Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST OVER DEATH

Sculpture in the cave monastery of Brantôme. The figure of Christ was

never completed. Below is a head crowned with bones, for Death, with

Time as crest. Below, in boxes, are the dead, of various degrees.]

In the front of this huge piece of sculpture are trestles planted in

the ground to support planks to serve as tables when the Brantômois

desire to have a banquet and a dance.

The sculpture above described is not earlier than the sixteenth

century. A few paces from it, in the same line and almost under the

tower, is another grotto called _La Babayou_--that is to say "of

the statue," and it probably at one time enshrined an image of a saint.

On the left of the subterranean church is the fountain of the little

Cut-throat already mentioned. S. Sicarius, whose relics were the great

"draw" to Brantôme in the Middle Ages, was supposed to have been one of

the Innocents slain by Herod; and the relics were also supposed to have

been given to the abbey by Charlemagne. As there was no historic

evidence that Charles the Great ever had a set of little bones passed

off on him as those of the Innocent, or that he ever made a present to

the abbey of a relic, it will be seen that a good deal of supposition

goes to the story. As I have said before, how it was that the child of

a Hebrew mother acquired a Latin name, and that one so peculiar, we are

not informed.

Outside the town gate are other large excavations that are supposed to

have formed a temple of Mithras, but this is mere conjecture. The

largest is now employed as a _Tir_--a shooting gallery. That there

were buildings connected with it is seen by the holes in the rock to

receive rafters.

S. Maximus, Bishop of Riez, who died in 460, was born at Château Redon,

near Digne, and he entered the monastic life on the isle of Lerins,

under S. Honoratus, and when that saint was raised in 426 to the

episcopal throne of Arles, Maximus succeeded him as Abbot of Lerins.

But this monastery was becoming crowded, and Maximus pined for the

solitary life, so one day he took a boat, crossed to the mainland, and

plunged into the wild country about the river Verdon, that has sawn for

itself a chasm through the limestone; where it debouches, he planted

himself at a place since called Moustier-Ste-Marie. The lips of the

crevasse are linked by a chain, with a gilt star hanging in the midst,

little under 690 feet above the bed of the torrent. No one knows when

this star was hung there, but it is supposed to have been an _ex

voto_ of a chevalier, de Blac. Within the ravine, reached by a

narrow goat-path, were caves in the cliffs, and into one of these

Maximus retired in 434 and was speedily followed by other solitaries.

The caves are still there, the faces walled up, but as at Ligugé, and

as at Marmoutier, and as at Brantôme, so was it here. As the monastery

grew rich, the solitaries crawled out of their holes into which the sun

never shone, and erected their residence at the opening of the ravine.

A chapel remains, founded by Charlemagne, but rebuilt in the fourteenth

or fifteenth century, reached by a stair protected by a parapet.

Moustier was famous at the close of the seventeenth and beginning of

the eighteenth century for its faience, with elegant designs and good

colouring. Specimens are now extremely scarce. Two vases of this ware

may be seen on the altar of the chapel. The principal potters there

were Pierre Fournier, Joseph Olery, Paul Rouse, and Féraud. They

usually signed their work with their initials. Maximus was just a

century later than Martin; the fever for imitating the lives of the

Fathers of the Deserts of Egypt was then in full heat. His master,

Honoratus, had been wont to escape from his island monastery and hide

in a cave in the glowing red porphyry rocks of the Esterelle. I can

understand his retiring thither, above a sea blue as the neck of a

peacock, among glowing red rocks, and masses of pines, and heather, and

arbutus, and every kind of fragrant herb, and where, when only

snowdrops are appearing in England, the spires of white asphodel are

basking in the sun.

[Illustration: CAVES OF LIGUGÉ

The primitive rock monastery of S. Martin. It was abandoned later when

the monks moved to the further side of the river; but Felix, a disciple

of S. Martin, remained and died in the cave, now inaccessible, below

the cross.]

Near Nottingham are the "Popish Holes," close to the river Lene. They

are thus described by Stukeley. "One may easily guess Nottingham to

have been an ancient town of the Britons; as soon as they had proper

tools they fell to work upon the rocks, which everywhere offer

themselves so commodiously to make houses in, and I doubt not first was

a considerable collection of this sort. What is visible at present is

not so old a date as their time, yet I see no reason to doubt but it is

formed upon theirs. There is a ledge of perpendicular rock hewn out

into a church, houses, chambers, dove-houses, &c. The church is like

those in the rocks of Bethlehem and other places in the Holy Land; the

altar is natural rock, and there has been painting upon the wall, a

steeple, I suppose, where a bell hung, and regular pillars. The river

winding about makes a fortification to it, for it comes at both ends of

the cliff, leaving a plain in the middle. The way into it was by a gate

cut out of the rock, and with an oblique entrance for more safety.

Without is a plain with three niches, which I fancy their place of

judicature, or the like. Between this and the castle is a hermitage of

like workmanship."

These remains pertain to a cell called S. Mary le Rock, a quarter of a

mile west of the Castle, and belonged to Lenton priory. It was

abandoned after the time of Edward IV., and is supposed to have come

down in a perfect form to the time of the Civil War, when it was much

injured by the Puritans as Papists' holes. A good many illustrations

exist of it after the Civil Wars, as a large folding plate in Throsby's

and Thoroton's "History of Nottinghamshire," 1797, but there is none to

show what it was before.

It possesses a pigeonry much like that at Brantôme, but on a smaller

scale, that wiseacres have pronounced to be a Columbarium, not for

doves, but for the reception of jars containing the ashes of the dead,

and have attributed this dovecote to Roman times. Mr. William Stetton,

a local antiquary, writing in 1806, stated that the excavation

"appeared to have been made in the earliest ages of Christianity, when

the converts resorted for secrecy and security to grottoes or caves,

and similar places of retirement and seclusion. The style is evidently

Roman. The whole interior appears to have been invested with a thin

plastering, or perhaps, only a wash, which has been painted in various

colours in mosaic devices. The altar still remains pretty perfect

notwithstanding the ravages of time and wanton depredation. A Roman

column still adorns the north side of it, but its corresponding one on

the south side has long been destroyed."

An architect, John Carter, in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1860,

stated that the "arrangements of the excavations are monastical; and

we, with much satisfaction, trace out the infirmary, refectory,

dormitory, chapter-house, and the chapel. The latter place gives two

aisles, divided by perforated arches, with headways in the manner of

groins, and at the east end an altar."

There can be no question now that although the original excavations

were possibly enough Roman-British, the Papists' holes, as we have them

now, are truly, as Mr. Carter says, monastical.

How absurd old fashioned antiquaries were may be proved by the fact

that the chimney that warmed the monks, and up which went the smoke

from their kitchen, was pronounced to be a _bustum_, a flue

employed for the cremation of the dead. As to the "Roman" column, that

also is mediaeval.

Curzon, in his "Monasteries of the Levant," 1849, says "the scenery of

Meteora (Mt. Pindus in Albania) is of a very singular kind. The end of

a range of rocky hills seems to have been broken off by some

earthquake, or washed away by the Deluge, leaving only a series of

twenty or thirty tall, thin, smooth, needle-like rocks, many hundred

feet in height; some like gigantic tusks, some shaped like sugar-

loaves, and some like vast stalagmites. These rocks are surrounded by a

beautiful grassy plain, on three sides of which grow groups of detached

trees, like those of an English park. Some of these rocks shoot up

quite clean and perpendicularly from the smooth green grass, some are

in clusters, some stand alone like obelisks. Nothing can be more

strange and wonderful than this romantic region, which is unlike

anything I have ever seen before or since. In Switzerland, Savoy, the

Tyrol, is nothing at all to be compared to these extraordinary peaks.

At the foot of many of these rocks there are numerous caves and holes,

some of which appear to be natural, but most of them are artificial;

for in the dark and wild ages of monastic fanaticism, whole flocks of

hermits roosted in these pigeonholes. Some of these caves are so high

up in the rocks that one wonders how the poor old gentlemen could ever

get up to them, whilst others are below the surface, and the anchorites

who burrowed in them, like rabbits, frequently afforded rare sport to

parties of roving Saracens; indeed, hermit-hunting scenes seem to have

been a fashionable amusement previous to the twelfth century. In early

Greek frescoes and in small stiff pictures with gold backgrounds, we

see many frightful representations of men on horseback in Roman armour,

with long spears, who are torturing and slaying Christian devotees. In

these pictures the monks and hermits are represented in gowns made of a

kind of coarse matting, and they have long beards, and some of them are

covered with hair; these, I take it, were the ones most to be admired,

as in the Greek Church sanctity is always in the inverse ratio to

beauty. All Greek saints are painfully ugly, but the hermits are much

uglier, dirtier, and older than the rest. They must have been very

fusty people beside, eating roots and living in holes like rats and

mice."

On the summit of these needles of rock are monasteries. Of these there

were twenty-four, but now seven alone remain tenanted by monks. The

sole access to them is by nets let down by ropes and hauled up by a

windlass, or as an alternative in the case of that of S. Barlaam, by a

succession of ladders.

As an example of a rock monastery and church in Egypt, I may quote the

same author's description of that of Der el Adra, or of the Pully,

situated on the top of Gebel el Ferr, where a precipice about 200 feet

in height rises out of the waters of the Nile.

The access to it is by a cave or fissure in the rock, the opening being

about the size of the inside of a capacious chimney. "The abbot crept

in at a hole at the bottom, and telling me to observe where he placed

his feet, he began to climb up the cleft with considerable agility. A

few preliminary lessons from a chimney-sweep would have been of the

greatest service to me, but in this branch of art my education had been

neglected, and it was with no small difficulty that I climbed up after

the abbot, whom I saw striding and sprawling in the attitude of a

spread eagle above my head. My slippers soon fell off upon the head of

a man under me. At least twenty men were scrambling and puffing

underneath him. Arms and legs were stretched out in all manner of

attitudes, the forms of the more distant climbers being lost in the

gloom of the narrow cavern up which we were advancing. Thence the climb

proceeded up a path. At the summit beside the monastic habitations was

the church cut out of the rock, to which descent is made by a narrow

flight of steps."

Mr. Curzon gives a plan of this church as half catacomb or cave, and

one of the earliest Christian buildings which has preserved its

originality.

The caves of Inkermann in the Crimea have been already alluded to. Here

is a description of a subterranean abandoned monastery and church.

"Having traversed a passage about fifty feet long, we reached a church,

or rather the remains of one; for a portion of the living rock in which

these works were cut had fallen and carried with it half of this

curious crypt. Its semicircular vaulted roof, and the pillars in its

corners, indicated it to be of Byzantine origin; while a Greek

sculptured cross, in the centre of the roof, told that it was a temple

dedicated to that religion. The altar, and any sculpture which might

have existed near it, are gone, and have long since been burnt into

lime, or built into some work at Sevastopol. Beyond the church we found

a large square apartment, entered by another passage, and looking over

the valley of Inkermann. A few more cells, resembling those on the

stairs, composed the whole of this series of excavated chambers, the

arrangements of which at once proclaimed them to have been a monastery.

These were the cells, the refectory, and the church. There is nothing

in their construction as a work of art; yet there is an absence of that

roughness and simplicity which exist in many caverns of the opposite

mountain, and which indicate their being of a much earlier date than

these." [Footnote: Scott (C. H.), "The Baltic, the Black Sea, and the

Crimea," Lond. 1854, p. 280.]

Cliff Castles and Cave Dwellings of Europe · 第 9 / 12 章