dunes miracle indignation devastating
righteous policy obstinate development
terror pagan chieftain abomination
St. Wulfram and his monks had much work for a time. The Frisians came in
crowds for Christian instructions and baptism. It was a great and hard
task to teach human beings in the lowest stage of development. Moreover,
the teachings of the missionaries were opposed in all things to the
traditional customs of the people. Many wrongs, such as slavery, for
instance, could not be set aside at once. Moreover, if the people were to
be made peaceful and weaned from their wildness, they had to be taught
other ways of support than plundering and hunting.
So the Benedictines taught the converts not only Christian doctrine, but
how to plow and to plant. They built dunes to hold out the devastating
sea, and sent to their abbey home for seeds and implements. In a few years
the face of Frisia was greatly changed.
Ratbodo had given Wulfram land and a dwelling near his own residence.
In this way he could best keep track of everything that happened at the
mission.
The king himself remained obdurate in his paganism. Once he said,
tauntingly, to the entreating Wulfram, that if the Christian God would
work a miracle for him especially, he would be converted. Wulfram reminded
him of the miracles he had seen and had not been converted. Then Ratbodo
said that if the table in front of him were changed into gold, he would
yield; but Wulfram, in righteous indignation, told him how childish was
such a request.
All the while the chieftains were urging the king to send away the bishop.
But he laughed at them, saying that what Wulfram had built up he himself
would destroy in ten days when the time came, just as had been done in the
case of many others. Even the king’s little son, Clodio, was baptized and
died a Christian, but the king only smiled. His day was coming, he held.
Then Wulfram went back to Fontinella to get more monks, laborers, and lay
brothers for his work in Frisia. The converted Frisians were beginning to
realize the blessings of regular and well-ordered work. There were more
and more laborers and fewer sea robbers and warriors. Nevertheless, the
great mass of the Frisian people remained obstinate, following the example
of the king and the great chiefs.
Among the gods whose wrath the Frisians most feared was the god of
the sea. The lowness of the land made frequent inundations inevitable.
Besides, Frisians, when not robbing, were fishing, or living on the water
in some way. Thus they were always anxious to pacify the mighty god of the
floods.
On this day, too, a great multitude, together with the king and the
chieftains, were gathered at the sea-coast, waiting to soothe the water
deity by human sacrifice. The lot had fallen on two little boys this time,
the only children of a widow. At the time of low tide the little ones were
laid on a projecting point of land, so that the rising waters would cover
them. Their feet were tied so cunningly that the childish hands could not
undo the knots. Thus they sat on the beach, waiting the waters that were
to be their death.
Several hundred feet back, the crowds were gathered to watch the unhappy
spectacle. In the foreground sat a young woman, the mother of the
children, weeping and moaning in her grief, without, however, waking the
faintest sympathy in the hearts of the by-standers.
The waters were even then advancing on the point of land, and a strong
wind was driving up the flood in great waves. The little ones began to
scream in terror as the spray struck them, and the mother sprang to her
feet. If she had not been held fast, she would have flung herself into the
water with her children. Gradually the land disappeared; nothing was left
but the raised point to which the children clung. One could see how the
older boy was trying to hold up his little brother.
“King!” said a voice, ringing with a holy anger, “why this abomination
before the eyes of almighty God?”
Ratbodo started and the chieftains stared in silent astonishment.
“We are offering sacrifice to the god of the waters,” said the king, after
a moment. “Go take the victims away from him if you can; they may be your
slaves and the slaves of your God for the rest of time,” he added with a
sneer.
“So be it,” answered Wulfram. Turning, he made the sign of the cross
over the rising tide and walked out as if on solid land. The Christians
present in the crowd cried aloud for joy, but the pagans stood in wonder
bordering on fear. The king himself was most moved by the miraculous
sight. His eyes were fixed, his face pale as death. He was convinced that
in the saint walking thus unharmed over the waters he saw an unmistakable
manifestation of the power of the Christian God.
“That is even more than a golden table,” he whispered tremblingly.
Wulfram lifted the children out of the water and carried them to the land.
At once the Frisians crowded about him, asking to be made Christians.
Ratbodo himself said:--
“It is but right that a man should keep his word. I said to you years ago
that if your God would make a golden table before my eyes, I would become
a Christian. But He did more. He made a solid floor of the moving sea.
Come to me every day and instruct me.”
--CONRAD VON BOLANDEN.