A family set forth from Aquitaine to visit the shrine of St. James, at
Compostella, whither, according to the Catholic faith, the decapitated
body of that saint was conveyed from Palestine, (miraculously of
course,) in a ship of marble. At a certain small town by the way, their
son Pierre is tempted by the innkeeper's daughter. Like a second Joseph,
he resists the immodest damsel; like Potiphar's wife, she converts her
love to hate, and accuses the virtuous youth of a capital crime. Her
false oaths prevail, and he is condemned to the gallows. Rejoicing in
his martyred innocence, he exhorts his parents to pursue their
pilgrimage, and pray for the peace of his soul. Sorrowing, they proceed,
and returning, find their son hanging by the neck alive, and singing
psalms--in no actual pain--but naturally desirous to be freed from his
extraordinary state of suspended animation. They repair to the chief
magistrate of the town, by whose authority the youth was executed--find
his worship at dinner--relate the wonderful preservation of their
son--and request that he may be restored. The magistrate is incredulous,
and declares that he would sooner believe that the fowls on which he was
dining would rise again in full feather. The miracle is performed. The
cock and hen spring from the ocean of their own gravy, clacking and
crowing, with all appurtenances of spur, comb, and feather. Pierre, of
course, is liberated, and declared innocent. The cock and hen become
objects of veneration--live in a state of chastity--and are finally
translated--leaving just two eggs, from which arise another immaculate
cock and hen. The breed is perhaps still in existence, and time hath
been, that a lucrative trade was carried on in their feathers!!!--Ibid..
* * * * *