from his master and lived for a time by rapine and murder. In one of his
hairbreadth escapes he took refuge among the hermits, and began to see
great merit in them, and tried to live like them and conquer his own
furious passions. He consulted the Abbot Isidore, who told him this
enterprise would take some time. Moyses said he would wait and try, and he
became a priest. In order to give himself exercise and tame his evil
spirit, he made a practice of regularly going round the cells of the
hermits, and wherever he found one sick he would go and fetch water and
fill his pitcher. And this he would do at any hour of the night and go any
distance. One night, in stooping over a pool and filling a hermit's
pitcher, he was doubled up with an attack of lumbago, and thought the
devil had given him a sudden stroke with a club. Moyses lay groaning with
pain till next morning, when he was carried to a church, and there people
took care of him. He was many months disabled, but on recovery at once
resumed his work. One day, the governor hearing of Moyses and being
curious to see him, met Moyses, and asked where that famous hermit Moyses
lived. Moyses replied, "He's not worth visiting, for he is only a fool."
The governor related this to the monks at the nearest monastery, and said
that the man who thus answered him was a huge old black fellow, covered
with rags. The monks thereupon all exclaimed, "That was Moyses himself; it
could be no other."
A HERMIT DEVISING NEW AUSTERITIES (A.D. 479).
In 479 Barnadatus, a Syrian monk, devised some new ways of
self-mortification. First he shut himself up in a small chamber; and then,
ascending a mountain, he made for himself a wooden box, in which he could
not stand upright, and was always confined to a stooping posture. This box
having no close covering, he was exposed to the wind, to the rain, and to
the sun, and for a long time dwelt in this incommodious house. Afterwards
he always stood upright, stretching up his hands to heaven, covered with a
garment of skin, with only a small aperture to draw his breath. James,
another contemporary monk, lived at first in a small hut, and afterwards
in the open air, with only heaven for his covering, enduring the extremes
of heat and cold. He had iron chains round his neck and waist, and four
other chains hung down from his neck, two before and two behind. He had
also chains about his arms. His only food was lentils. For three days and
nights he was often so covered with snow, whilst he was prostrate and
praying, that he could hardly be seen. This man, according to Theodoret,
was celebrated for the many miracles which he wrought.
HERMIT ST. CARILEFF REFUSING A QUEEN'S VISIT (A.D. 540).
St. Carileff was a monk at Menat, near Clermont, and died about 540. He
early became dissatisfied with his monastery, and resolved to penetrate
farther into the forest, and live a more retired and perfect life. He and
a companion went to reconnoitre, and in a remote corner came upon an old
neglected vineyard, where they thought of settling down. One hot day the
saint was working and had hung his hood on an oak tree, and on returning
to resume it he found a wren had laid an egg in it. So the good hermit
rejoiced and left his hood, so as not to disturb the tiny creature's nest.
When he reported to his abbot this circumstance, the latter said, "This is
no accident; return thither, and there a monastery shall arise some day."
Carileff returned and settled in the old vineyard, and he gained the
confidence of other animals besides the wren; for a large buffalo used to
come to his cell and let him rub his shaggy neck, and then it galloped
back into the forest. One day the king heard of this splendid buffalo
roaming about, and made up a hunting party to secure it. But it took
refuge in the hermit's cell; and the huntsmen, hot with pursuit, were so
amazed at seeing the great monarch of the forest standing thus peaceably
beside its protector, that they acknowledged the man of God's superior
power, and ended by giving him a grant of lands to build a monastery
there. When the king told this story, the queen was eager to visit the
holy recluse, and sent a message; but he most peremptorily refused to see
her, saying, "As long as I live I shall never see the face of a woman, and
no woman shall ever enter my cell. Why should this queen be so anxious to
see a man disfigured by fasting and toil, and as brown as a chameleon? I
will pray for her. A monk has no need of great possessions, nor has she of
a monk's blessing. But his blessing she shall have, if she will only leave
him alone."
THE FIRST SAXON HERMIT (A.D. 708).
Fuller, in his "Church History," says: "St. Guthlake, a Benedictine monk
in 708, was the first Saxon that professed a hermitical life in England,
to which purpose he chose a fenny place in Lincolnshire called
Crowland--that is, the 'raw or crude land'; so raw, indeed, that before
him no man could digest to live therein. Yea, the devils are said to claim
this place as their peculiar, and to call it their own land. Could those
infernal fiends, tortured with immaterial fire, take any pleasure or make
any ease to themselves by paddling here in puddles and dabbling in the
moist dirty marshes? However, Guthlake took the boldness to 'enter common'
with them, and erect his cell in Crowland. But if his prodigious life may
be believed, ducks and mallards do not now flock thither faster in
September than herds of devils came about him, all whom he is said
victoriously to have vanquished. After the example of Moses and Elias, he
fasted forty days and nights, till, finding this project destructive to
nature, he was forced in his own defence to take some necessary but very
sparing refection. He died in his own cell; and Pega, his sister, an
anchoritess, led a solitary life not far from him."
ST. GUTHLAC, HERMIT OF CROYLAND (A.D. 708).
This St. Guthlac, according to his biographer, after he had been two years
living in a monastery, began to long for the wilderness and a hermitage.
Being directed to a fen of immense size in the east of England, he met a
man named Tatwaine, who told him of an island which many had attempted to
inhabit, but no man could do it on account of manifold horrors and fears
and the loneliness of the wide wilderness, so that no man could endure it
and fled from it. The holy man at once selected and went through the wild
fens till he came to a spot called Croyland. It was a place of accursed
spirits; but he was strengthened with heavenly support, and vowed that he
would serve God on that island all the days of his life. He used neither
woollen nor linen garments, but was clothed in skins; and he tasted
nothing but barley bread and water. He was sorely tempted by the devil;
but at last the ravens, the beasts, and the fishes came to obey him. Once
a venerable brother named Wilfred visited him, and they held many
discourses on the spiritual life, when suddenly two swallows came flying
in, and, behold, they raised up their song rejoicing. And often they sat
fearlessly on the shoulders of the holy man Guthlac, and then lifted up
their song, and afterwards they sat on his bosom and on his arms and his
knees. When Wilfred had long beheld with wonder the birds so submissively
sitting with him, he asked the reason, and Guthlac answered him thus:
"Hast thou never learned, brother Wilfred, in Holy Writ, that he who hath
led his life after God's will, the wild beasts and birds have made friends
with him? And the man who would separate himself from worldly thoughts, to
him the very angels come near." When Guthlac died in due time, angelic
songs were heard in the sky, and all the air had a wondrous odour of
exceeding sweetness.
ST. SIMEON STYLITES (A.D. 459).
St. Simeon Stylites, who immortalised himself by living on a high pillar,
flourished about 459, was the son of a shepherd, and in his youth
displayed a genius for mortifications of the flesh. He begged admittance
to a monastery, and at once outdid all the monks there; for while they ate
only once a day, he ate only once a week, and that on Sunday. He at a
later stage passed the forty days of each Lent without eating or drinking.
Not content with a hermitage, he built himself a small unroofed enclosure
of rude stones, on a high mountain forty miles east of Antioch, exposed to
the weather. Crowds began to flock to see him and get his benediction. He
next built a pillar six cubits high, and lived on it four years. He
gradually raised higher pillars; and the fourth time he made a pillar of
forty cubits (sixty feet) high, on which he spent his last twenty years of
life. It was only three feet in diameter at the top, so that he might not
have even the luxury of lying down or sitting. He sometimes prayed in an
erect attitude, with his outstretched arms in the figure of a cross; but
his most familiar practice was that of bending his meagre skeleton from
the forehead to the feet. He bowed his body in continual prayer, and a
visitor once counted twelve hundred and forty-four reverences of adoration
made by him in one day. He made exhortations to the people twice a day. He
died at sixty-nine in the act of prayer on his pillar, and the bishops and
all the people round attended his burial, and many miracles were said to
have been worked that day in testimony of his sanctity.
A PILLAR MONK IN WESTERN CLIMATES (A.D. 591).
In 591 Vulfilaic, a monk of Lombardy, had a pillar erected for him at
Treves, and stood upon it barefoot, enduring great hardship in the winter.
The bishops therefore compelled him to come down and to live like other
monks, telling him that the severity of the climate would not permit him
to imitate the great Simeon of Antioch. He obeyed his superiors, but with
tears and reluctance. And this, says Fleury, is the only instance that we
know of a stylites or pillar monk in the Western world.
ST. HERBERT, THE HERMIT OF DERWENTWATER (A.D. 650).
Herbert was a monk of Lindisfarne or of Melrose at the same time as St.
Cuthbert, by whose advice he retired to the island in Derwentwater, which
is five miles long and one and a half miles broad, and lived there. He
used to meet St. Cuthbert once every year; and at their meeting about 687
that saint, being then Bishop of Lindisfarne, said to him on parting,
"Remember at this time, brother Herbert, to ask and say to me all that you
wish, for after our parting now we shall not see each other with the eyes
of the flesh in this world; for I know that the time of my departure is at
hand, and that I must shortly put off this tabernacle." On this Herbert,
falling at his feet with groans and tears, said, "For our Lord's sake, I
beseech you not to leave me, but remember your most faithful companion,
and entreat the mercy of Heaven that we who have together served Him on
earth may pass together to behold His grace and glory in the heavens. You
know I have always studied to live according to your direction; and if
from ignorance or infirmity I have in any point failed, I have taken pains
to chastise and amend my fault according to the decision of your will."
The bishop bent in prayer, and being immediately informed by the Spirit
that his request was granted, said, "Rise up, my brother, and do not
mourn, but rather rejoice greatly, for the mercy of Heaven has granted
what we asked." They separated, and never again met; for on March 20th,
687, their spirits, departing from the body, were immediately united in
the blessed vision of each other, and by the ministry of angels translated
to the kingdom of heaven. In 1374 the then Bishop of Carlisle directed
that the anniversary of these saints' death should be commemorated by the
vicar of Crosthwaite, with a choir chanting the Mass of St. Cuthbert on
this St. Herbert's isle.
ST. ETHELWALD, HERMIT AT FARNE (A.D. 700).
St. Cuthbert, the first hermit of Farne, near Holy Island, was succeeded
by Edelwald about 700, and next by Felgund, who told the following
anecdote to the Venerable Bede: The walls of St. Cuthbert's oratory in
Farne, being composed of planks somewhat carelessly put together, had
become loose and tottering by age, and the planks left an opening to the
weather. The venerable man, whose aim was rather the splendour of the
heavenly than of an earthly mansion, had taken hay or clay or whatever he
could get, and filled up the crevices, that he might not be disturbed from
the earnestness of his prayers by the daily violence of the winds and
storms. When Ethelwald entered and saw these contrivances, he begged the
brethren who came thither to give him a calf's skin, and fastened it with
nails in the corner where himself and his predecessor used to kneel or
stand when they prayed, as a protection against the storm. Twelve years
after, he also ascended to the joys of the heavenly kingdom, and Felgund
became the third inhabitant of the place. It then seemed good to the
Bishop of Lindisfarne to restore from its foundation the time-worn
oratory. This being done, many devout persons begged of Christ's holy
servant Felgund to give them a small portion of the relics of God's
servants Cuthbert and Ethelwald. He accordingly determined to cut up the
above-named calf's skin into pieces, and give a portion to each. But he
first experienced the influence on his own person, for his face was much
deformed by a swelling and a red patch. The malady increased, and fearing
lest he should be obliged to abandon the solitary life and return to the
monastery, presuming in his faith, he trusted to heal himself by the aid
of those holy men whose house he dwelt in, and whose holy life he sought
to imitate; for he steeped a piece of the skin above mentioned in water
and washed his face therewith, whereupon the swelling was immediately
healed, and the cicatrice disappeared. "This I was told," says Bede, "in
the first instance by a priest of the monastery of Jarrow, who said he
knew Felgund, and saw his face before and after the cure, and Felgund also
told me the same. This he ascribed to the agency of the Almighty grace."
The Venerable Bede says he was told also of another miracle by one of the
brothers on whom it was wrought, namely Guthrid, who narrated as follows:
"I came to the island of Farne to speak with the reverend father
Ethelwald. Having been refreshed with his discourse, and taken his
blessing, as we were returning home, on a sudden when we were in the midst
of the sea, there ensued so dismal a tempest that neither the sails nor
the oars were of any use to us, nor had we anything to expect but death.
After long struggling with the wind and waves to no effect, we looked
behind us to see if we could return, and then we observed on the island of
Farne Father Ethelwald, beloved of God, come out of his cavern to watch
our course. When he beheld us in distress and despair, he bowed his knees
to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ in prayer for our life and safety,
upon which the swelling sea was calmed, so that the storm ceased on all
sides, and a fair wind attended us to the very shore. When we had landed,
the storm which had ceased for a short time for our sakes immediately
returned, and raged continually during the whole day; so that it plainly
appeared that the brief cessation of the storm had been granted from
Heaven, at the request of the man of God, in order that we might escape."
Ethelwald lived twelve years on the island of Farne, and at his death his
remains were taken to Lindisfarne and buried beside his master, St.
Cuthbert. Here they remained two centuries till the Danes frightened the
holy household, when they were taken away, and at last in the tenth
century were buried under the shadow of the new cathedral at Durham.
AN ENGLISH QUEEN CONSULTING A HERMIT ON FAMILY TROUBLES (A.D. 1082).
Matilda of Flanders, the wife of William the Conqueror, being greatly
distressed by the constant quarrels between the King and her favourite son
Robert, sent to a German hermit of great sanctity, entreating his prayers
and advice. The hermit gave his answer thus: "Tell your mistress I have
prayed in her behalf, and the Most High has made known to me in a dream
the things she desires to learn. I saw in my vision a beautiful pasture
covered with grass and flowers, and a noble charger feeding therein. A
numerous herd gathered round about, eager to enter and share the feast,
but the fiery charger would not permit them to approach near enough to
crop the flowers and herbage. But alas! the majestic steed in the midst of
his pride and courage died, the terror of his presence ceased, and a poor
silly steer appeared in his place as the guardian of the pasture. Then the
throng of meaner animals, who had hitherto feared his approach, rushed in
and trampled the flowers and grass beneath their feet, and that which they
could not devour they defiled and destroyed." The hermit then explained
that the steed was William the Conqueror, the silly steer was Robert, and
added, "Illustrious lady, if, after hearing the words of the vision in
which the Lord has vouchsafed to reply to my prayers, you do not labour to
restore the peace of Normandy, you will henceforth behold nothing but
misery, the death of your royal spouse, the ruin of all your race, and the
desolation of your beloved country." It is said that this answer of the
hermit gave no comfort to the Queen, who redoubled her prayers and
penitential exercises, but drooped and soon died of a broken heart at the
age of fifty-one. She was buried at Caen in a convent.
A THOROUGHLY CONSCIENTIOUS HERMIT (A.D. 1138).
The blessed Schetzelo was a hermit about 1138, living in the woods near
Luxemburg, feeding on roots and acorns. His clothing was so scanty as to
be scarcely decent; and St. Bernard, who greatly respected him, sent his
monks with a present of a shirt and a pair of drawers. Schetzelo at once
put them on, but on reflection he pulled them off again, saying that he
found he could do without them, and that it was his earnest desire to live
without superfluities. The monks asked him if he had suffered many
temptations in his time. "Yes," he answered; "the life of man is one long
series of temptations." And he then told them how he had once given way,
and how heavily he felt the bitterness of self-reproach ever since. One
winter, he said, he was lying out in the snow, and the drift covered all
his body except the face, where his breath had melted a hole. A poor,
half-frozen rabbit, seeking shelter, jumped into the hole and crouched on
the hermit's breast. He was moved first to laughter, and then to
compassion and pleasure, for the little creature, benumbed with cold,
suffered him to stroke its fur; and so, said Schetzelo, "when I ought to
have been praying and meditating, I was playing with the rabbit under the
snow."
ST. BARTHOLOMEW, THE HERMIT OF FARNE (A.D. 1151).
St. Bartholomew, in 1151, was living quietly as a monk in the cathedral
monastery at Durham, when St. Cuthbert appeared to him in a dream and bade
him go to the island of Farne, near Holy Island, and there live as a
hermit. He went off with the prayers of all the convent, and took up his
abode and lived sequestered from the world. He found, however, another
monk there before him, called Ebwin, who was very jealous of the newcomer;
but Bartholomew endured all the scoffs and reproaches patiently, and at
last Ebwin left the place entirely to him. Bartholomew had a cow and a
little patch of ground on which he grew barley. He also caught fish
occasionally, and filled up the pauses with chanting psalms and hymns,
repeating the whole Psalter once, twice, and thrice every day. He was
charmed to watch the seagulls and cormorants, his only companions. He
would allow no passing sailor to throw stones at these birds. He even
tamed one, which came regularly to feed out of his hand every day. One day
when he was out fishing, a hawk pursued this poor bird into the chapel and
killed it, leaving only the feathers and bones lying on the portal of the
holy place. The assassin, however, could not find its way out of the
chapel, and kept wheeling round and round, beating against the windows and
walls. Brother Bartholomew entered at last and found the cruel bird with
its bloody talons, looking shameless and helpless. He mourned bitterly
over the fate of his poor favourite and caught the hawk. He kept it two
days without food to punish it for its crime, and then, seized with
compassion, let go the guilty prisoner. Another time the saint was sitting
on the seashore, when he was surprised to feel a cormorant close by his
side, pulling with its bill the corner of his garment. He rose and
followed the bird along the beach till he came to a hole in the rock, down
which one of the young ones had fallen. He soon extricated the trembling
creature and restored it to its mother. After living forty-two years in
this way, one night one of the brethren at Lindisfarne dreamed that
Bartholomew was dead. He immediately aroused the convent, and a party of
monks at once sailed across to Farne, and sure enough the holy hermit was
lying in his stone coffin, having just died at the time indicated by the
dreamer.
A FRENCH KING ON HIS DEATHBED SENDS FOR A HERMIT (1483).
When Louis XI. of France was in his last illness, in 1483, and his
sufferings awoke in him remorse for many crimes, he gathered round him all
the most famous relics which could be procured--among others, the holy
phial, which had never been removed from Rheims since the time of Clovis
(656). He entreated Pope Sixtus IV. to send him any relics to relieve his
agonies, and liberal supplies were given. The King also sent for hermits
and other holy men, in the hope that their intercessions for his life
might prevail. The most renowned of the holy men of the period was Francis
of Paola, in Calabria, who was born with one eye; but his mother had vowed
that, if the other eye might be granted to him, he should become a
Franciscan. And her desire was fulfilled. Though utterly illiterate, he
became a Minorite friar, and soon withdrew to live in a cave, where the
austerity of his life and his supposed miraculous powers made him famous.
When Louis first sent a message to Francis, the latter refused; but the
Pope interposed and commanded him. The hermit passed through Rome, and
caused great excitement, and led the Pope to give leave to Francis to
found a society of "Hermits of St. Francis." On reaching the French Court,
Francis was received with as much honour as if he had been the Pope
himself. Louis could not live without his company, knelt before him, hung
on his words, and entreated the holy man to spare his life, even if for a
little longer. Rich rewards were heaped on the hermit, and even convents
founded in his honour, the members of which were called Minims, owing to
their habit of self-abasement. After a few weeks Louis died,
notwithstanding the hermit's merit.
CONSECRATION OF HERMITS AND RECLUSES.
The great idea of the hermit life was to live entirely alone, though some
hermits lived in small communities in one district in close neighbourhood.
Pope Innocent IV., in the middle of the thirteenth century, enrolled these
into a separate order with the rule of St. Augustine, and hence called
Austin Friars. There were also two grades of hermits. Hermits occasionally
visited their fellow-men, but those called recluses abstained from any
such visits. The female solitaries were usually recluses. The English
hermit of the Middle Ages lived more luxuriously than the foreign hermit,
and sometimes had one or two servants to wait upon him in the hermitage,
which was often a comfortable house. The usual garb of a hermit was a
brown frock with girdle, and over it an ample gown or cloak with hood. A
man latterly could not become a recognised hermit without consecration by
a bishop, which was a religious service, and he was assigned a district.
The service for blessing a hermit consisted of prayers and psalms and a
gift of the eremitical habit. Some hermitages had cells to accommodate
more than one, as the hermitage at Wetheral, near Carlisle, cut out of the
face of a rock one hundred feet high, nearly midway. These hermits and
recluses lived in places where alms were likely to be found, and an
almsbox was hung up for receiving gifts. The bishop, before giving his
licence, usually satisfied himself that alms would be forthcoming
sufficient for maintenance. Some female recluses had a room or
anchor-house assigned to them near a church or in a churchyard, as was the
case at St. Julian, Norwich, and other places, so that the benefit of
hearing or seeing Mass was available. In the latter days anchoresses were
blamed as having too great a tendency to gossip. Their founder and
patroness was Judith, and the first who made any formal rule for their
mode of life was one Grimlac, who lived about A.D. 900.
ST. METHODIUS, THE MARTYR FOR IMAGES (A.D. 842).
When the iconoclastic Emperor Leo was persecuting all who defended images
in churches, those calling themselves the orthodox party were equally
resolute, and furnished also their martyrs ready to die for what they
thought to be the truth. St. Methodius was sent by the Pope to make
requisitions for the orthodox, but was thrown by the Emperor into prison,
and shut up with two thieves in a narrow cell. One of the thieves died,
and the corpse was left to putrefy; yet the patience and sweetness of
Methodius so gained upon the other thief, that when offered his liberty
the thief preferred to remain where he was. After nine years' confinement,
Methodius, when drawn out of the cave, was shrivelled to the bone, his
skin was bleached, and his rags clotted with filth. Soon again Methodius
was brought before the Emperor Theophilus, charged with opposing the
destruction of images, and he thus addressed his oppressor: "Sire, be
consistent. If we are to have the images of Christ overthrown, then down
with the images of the Emperors also." At this Theophilus, being enraged,
ordered the monk to be stripped and lashed with thongs of leather, till he
fainted with loss of blood. Methodius was then thrown into a dungeon, and
his jaw was broken in the struggle. In 842, however, on the death of
Theophilus, Methodius was released and made Patriarch of Constantinople.
The saint mounted the throne humble as a monk, and wearing a bandage round
his face to support his broken jaw, a living monument of the violence of
his persecutors and of his confessorship of the orthodox faith. He
instituted an annual festival, called the Festival of Orthodoxy, and died
in 846.
THE MIRACLES OF SAINTS.
The view taken of the alleged miracles performed by saints, especially in
the earlier centuries, divided broadly the Roman Catholic from the
Protestant Christians, the former still maintaining, defending, and
believing in the existence of the power of working miracles, the latter
ostentatiously and dogmatically denying such power. Guizot says that the
Bollandist collection of Lives of Saints includes twenty-five thousand,
and nearly all the saints there recorded occasionally worked miracles. It
is true that many educated Roman Catholics admit that it is not necessary
for them to believe all these records. Since the revival of learning and
the Reformation incredulity has set in, and sapped and mined nearly all
the miraculous feats recorded in the Lives of the Saints. Middleton in
1748 published his "Free Inquiry," and shook the faith of the moderns in
any of these miracles subsequent to those recorded in the New Testament.
As Lecky observes in his "History of Rationalism," the miracles of the New
Testament were always characterised by dignity and solemnity; they always
conveyed some spiritual lesson, and conferred some actual benefit, besides
attesting the character of the worker. The mediæval miracles, on the
contrary, were frequently trivial, purposeless, and unimpressive,
constantly verging on the grotesque, and not unfrequently passing the
border.
LOCAL AND PATRON SAINTS.
There were some universal saints of Christendom, such as the Apostles and
early martyrs, the four great Fathers of the Latin Church--some few like
St. Thomas à Becket, held up as a martyr of his order; St. Benedict, the
founder of the Benedictine order; and some founders of monastic
institutes, as Dominic and Francis. Other saints had a more limited fame,
and each kingdom of Christendom had its tutelar saint. France had
three--St. Martin of Tours, St. Reine, St. Denys; Spain had the Apostle
James, St. Jago of Compostella; Germany had Boniface; Scotland had St.
Andrew; Ireland had St. Patrick; and England had St. George. Every city,
town, or village also usually had its own saint. Female prophets were
called Brides of Christ, and were thought to have constant personal
intercourse with the saints, the Virgin, and our Lord Himself, like St.
Catherine of Sienna and St. Bridget of Sweden. In later days Christian
charity had its saints, as Vincent de Paul, St. Teresa, and St. Francis de
Sales. Every one of the saints had his life of wonder, the legend of his
virtues, his miracles, perhaps his martyrdom, his shrines, his reliques.
The legend was the dominant universal poetry of the times. And the legend
was perpetually confirmed, illustrated, and kept alive by reliques, shown
either in the church or under the altar or upon the altar. It was a pious
enterprise even to steal reliques. Clotaire II. cut off and stole an arm
of St. Denys. The head of St. Andrew was once carried away by a king in
his flight; kings vied for the purchase, and vast sums were offered for
it.
ST. GENEVIÈVE, PATRON SAINT OF PARIS AND FRANCE (A.D. 430).
About 430, as St. Germanus and St. Lupus were on their way to England to
refute the Pelagian heresy, they stayed one night at Nanterre, a village
near Paris. The villagers went in a crowd to look at these renowned
saints, and a little girl in the crowd attracted the notice of Germanus,
who called her to him, asked her name and all about her, and ended by
bidding her parents to rejoice in the sanctity of their daughter. He then
addressed little Geneviève on the exalted condition of perpetual
virginity, and appointed a service in the church that he might consecrate
her at once to that holy life. The service was performed, and the saint
gave her at parting a brass coin, shaped like a cross, which he told her
to wear as her only ornament, and leave silver and precious stones for the
children of this world. From that day miraculous gifts descended on the
child, who excelled all others. She once had a trance, in which she was
led by an angel to survey the dwellings of the just, and the rewards of
the spiritual life. She also received the gift of divining people's
thoughts. She soon became marked out, and, like other holy people, excited
envy for the powers she possessed. When the Huns invaded Paris, the
terrified citizens were told by her to take courage, and she assembled the
matrons that they might seek deliverance by prayer and fasting; and the
deliverance came, for the Huns were diverted through the efficacy of her
prayers from Paris. She had great powers of abstinence, and from her
fifteenth to her fiftieth year she ate only twice a week, and that was
bread of barley or beans; and after fifty a little fish and milk were
added to her diet. Every Saturday night she kept a vigil in the church of
St. Denys, and then retired to her cell, where she was as much visited by
crowds as a saint on his pillar. After she was dead her relics were
eagerly sought after by rival Churches, and these stayed the horrors of
plague and famine and flood wherever they were taken. All Paris believed
in her as the patron saint.
EXCESSIVE REVERENCE FOR RELICS (A.D. 406).
The extravagant veneration paid to the martyrs roused great opposition in
the fifth century, and the presbyter Vigilantius of Barcelona wrote a
tract censuring these ashes-worshippers and idolaters. He represented it
as supremely ridiculous to manifest this adoration of a miserable heap of
ashes and wretched bones, and covering these with costly drapery and
kissing them. He also complained that the practice of placing lighted
lamps before the martyrs was only an imitation of the Pagan practice
before the images of their gods. Why should they think it a merit to place
miserable wax candles before the effigies of those on whom the Lamb in the
midst of God's throne reflected all the brightness of His majesty? He also
thought the practice of nocturnal assemblies, held by both sexes in the
churches of the martyrs, was a temptation to misconduct. And he even
questioned the reliance placed in the intercessions of the martyrs.
Jerome, on the other hand, defended most of these practices. His answer
was, that if the Apostles and martyrs in their earthly life, before they
were out of the conflict, were able to pray effectually for others, how
much more could they do so after they had obtained the victory! The
worship of the Virgin Mary was thought to be mainly due to the ascetic
spirit brooding over the cradle of Christianity.
GREAT SECRECY IN REMOVING RELICS.
The acquisition and preservation of relics by the monks may be said to
absorb all their zeal. It was decreed once that the body of St. John of
the Cross should be secretly removed from Ubede to Segovia, and an officer
of the Court arrived by night at the monastery, and having desired an
audience of the father prior on a matter of the greatest consequence, he
intimated to him the order of which he was the bearer. The order enjoined
the prior, on pain of excommunication, to take up the body secretly,
without apprising any one of what was to be done. This was an unexpected
blow to the prior; but he took precautions, and when every one in the
monastery was asleep, he went down into the grave accompanied by the
officer and two monks bound to secrecy. They opened the grave; but lo! the
saint being dead a year, the body was still perfect and the flesh
undecayed. As the bones only were demanded, the object could not be
effected, but quicklime was laid in the grave, and the officer departed
and returned in nine months. The same precautions being adopted and the
grave opened, the body was still perfect; but being dried by the lime, it
was put in a leather case and committed to the messenger. The men left at
about midnight, and strange visions were seen the same hour. One monk
awoke greatly perturbed and went down to the church; but finding the prior
standing at the door, who refused to allow any one to enter, the uneasy
and curious monk was ordered to return to his bed without receiving any
explanation. The officer meanwhile bearing the body, declared that after
leaving Ubede and passing some desert mountains, he heard awful voices in
the air which were not human, and which greatly disturbed him.
RIVAL MONKS CAPTURING HOLY RELICS (A.D. 1030).
Bishop Etheric of Dorchester, who died in 1038, having ascertained that
the remains of St. Felix, formerly Bishop of East Angles, were lying
neglected, obtained leave from King Canute to have these taken charge of,
and privately informed the monks of Ramsey of the inexhaustible treasure
which they might secure to themselves by getting the possession. On
receiving this message Alfwin, the prior, and a number of his monks
proceeded by water to the place pointed out, and being armed with the
authority of the king and bishop, they overmastered all opposition, and
placed on board their boat the holy ashes and the bones of St. Felix, and
with psalms of joy steered their way back to Ramsey. No sooner, however,
did the monks of Ely hear of what was on foot, than they became desirous
of possessing so great a treasure themselves, and therefore they hurried
on board their ships with a strong body of armed persons, resolved by
their superior numbers to capture the relics. An event, however, occurred
which was evidently not the work of human hands, but was the dispensation
of the Divine will, for at the very moment when the vessels came in sight
of each other a dense mist arose, which blinded the Ely crew, and yet
allowed the Ramsey boat to steer right on to its destination. Whether this
can be viewed as a miracle or not, still the fact is handed down by
tradition that the relics of St. Felix were successfully removed to the
church of Ramsey, where they were with due honour enshrined, and where
that holy saint for ages bestowed benefits on those who sought his
prayers.
A MONK JUDICIOUSLY STEALING RELICS (A.D. 1090).
About the year 1090, says Orderic, one Stephen, the chanter of the
monastery of Venosa in the city of Angers, went to Apulia, with the
express sanction of the Lord Natalis, his abbot, divested himself of the
monastic habit, and lived as a clerk at Bari, where he became familiar
with the sacristans of the church. At length, watching his opportunity, he
secretly purloined an arm of St. Nicholas, which, set in silver, was kept
outside the shrine for the purpose of giving the benediction to the
people. He then attempted to withdraw into France, that he might enrich
his own monastery with the precious treasure. The people of Bari, however,
soon discovered their loss, and guarded all the avenues to prevent the
thief's escape. Nevertheless, Stephen reached Venosa safely, where he
passed the winter in great alarm, trying to conceal himself. He then fell
into great poverty, and was compelled to detach the silver from the holy
relic and apply it for his support. Meanwhile, the noise of the robbery of
the arm of St. Nicholas spread through the whole of Italy and Sicily, and
at last some one recognised the silver covering. The monks heard of this,
and Erembert, an active monk, suddenly presented himself and demanded from
the sick man with great vehemence the arm of St. Nicholas. The sick man,
perceiving he was detected, and not knowing where to turn, pale and
trembling, produced the precious relic. The resolute monk joyfully seized
it, and carried it to the abbey of the Holy Trinity, the other monks and
citizens returning thanks to God to this day. St. Nicholas there
miraculously succoured all who implored his aid.
A CATHOLIC DEFENDING HIS RELICS.
Sir Thomas More, contemporary of Luther, says: "Luther wisheth in a sermon
of his that he had in his hand all the pieces of the holy cross, and saith
that, if he so had, he would throw them there as never sun should shine on
them. And for what worshipful reason would the wretch do such villainy to
the cross of Christ? Because, as he saith, that there is so much gold now
bestowed about the garnishing of the pieces of the cross that there is
none left for poor folk. Is not this an high reason? As though all the
gold that is now bestowed about the pieces of the holy cross would not
have failed to have been given to poor men, if they had not been bestowed
about the garnishing of the cross. And as though there were nothing but
that is bestowed about Christ's cross! How small a portion, ween we, were
the gold about all the pieces of Christ's cross, if it were compared with
the gold that is quite cast away about the gilting of knives, swords,
spurs, arras, and painted cloths; and (as though these things could not
consume gold fast enough) the gilding of posts and whole roofs, not only
in the palaces of princes and great prelates, but also many righteous
men's houses. And yet among all these things could Luther spy no gold that
grievously glittered in his bleared eyes, but only about the cross of
Christ!"
FORGERY OF SAINTS' RELICS.
Fuller, in his "Church History," observes as follows: "The pretended
causes of miracles are generally reducible to these two heads: (1) Saints'
relics; (2) saints' images. How much forgery there is in the first of
these is generally known, so many pieces being pretended of Christ's cross
as would load a great ship. But amongst all of them commend me to the
cross at the priory of Benedictines at Bromehead in Norfolk, the legend
whereof deserveth to be inserted. Queen Helen, they say, finding the cross
of Christ at Jerusalem, divided it into nine parts, according to the nine
orders of angels. Of one of these (most besprinkled with Christ's blood)
she made a little cross, and, putting it into a box adorned with precious
stones, bestowed it on Constantine her son. This relic was kept by his
successors until Baldwin, Emperor of Greece, fortunate so long as he
carried it about him, but slain in fight when forgetting the same: after
whose death Hugh, his chaplain, born in Norfolk, and who constantly said
prayers before the cross, stole it away box and all, brought it into
England, and bestowed it on Brome Holme in Norfolk. It seems there is no
felony in such wares, but 'catch who catch may'; yea, such sacrilege is
supererogation. By this cross thirty-nine dead men are said to be raised
to life, and nineteen blind men restored to their sight. It seems such
merchants trade much in odd numbers, which best fasteneth the fancies of
folk; whilst the smoothness of even numbers makes them slip the sooner out
of men's memories. Chemnitius affirmeth from the mouth of a grave author
that the teeth of St. Apollonia being conceived effectual to cure the
toothache in the reign of Edward VI. (when many ignorant people in England
relied on that receipt to carry one of her teeth about them), the King
gave command in extirpation of superstition that all her teeth should be
brought in to a public officer deputed for that purpose; and they filled a
tun therewith. Were her stomach proportionable to her teeth, a county
could scarcely afford her a meal's meat. The English nuns at Lisbon do
pretend that they have both the arms of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of
Canterbury; and yet Pope Paul III., in a public Bull set down by Sanders,
doth pitifully complain of the cruelty of King Henry VIII. for causing the
bones of Becket to be burned and the ashes scattered to the wind, the
solemnity whereof is recorded in our chronicles. And how his arms could
escape that bonfire is to me incredible!"
HOW TO FLATTER A RELIC WORSHIPPER.
The belief in the efficacy of saints' relics to work miracles was so
general in the ninth century that at last monks and bishops aspired also
in their own lifetime to imitate this wonder-working power. A monk who was
credited in his lifetime as a miracle worker begged that his brethren
would not bury his body in the cloister, for that after his death the
crowds of people coming to be cured of their diseases there would be too
troublesome to them all. Another monk of St. Gall, being anxious to
ingratiate himself with his bishop and the lord of the manor, bethought
himself of the following expedient: He one day entrapped a fox without
injuring it, and then carried it as a present to Bishop Recko. The bishop,
after admiring the creature, expressed his wonder how the monk could have
caught it without doing it any injury, whereupon the monk replied, "Oh, I
can explain that. When I saw the fox in full chase, I cried out to it, 'In
the name of Lord Recko, stop and be still!' The fox at once on hearing the
name stood stockstill till I seized him, and I thought it due to your
lordship to bring it as an offering." The bishop was so pleased at this
efficacious appliance of his own reputation for sanctity that he became a
warm patron thenceforth of the artful ways of relic hunters.
AN EMPRESS BEGGING FOR RELICS.
The Empress Constantina asked of St. Gregory the head of St. Paul or some
part of his body to put in the church which they were building at
Constantinople in honour of that apostle. Gregory sent this answer: "You
ask of me what I dare not and cannot do. For the bodies of the apostles
St. Peter and St. Paul are so formidable by their miracles that none can
approach them, even to pray, without being seized with great terror. My
predecessor, having attempted to change a silver ornament which was over
the body of St. Peter, though at the distance of fifteen feet, had a
frightful vision. I myself wanted to repair something near the body of St.
Paul, and we were obliged to dig near the sepulchre. The superior of the
place found some bones which yet did not touch the sepulchre, and moved
them to another place. After having seen a terrible apparition he died
suddenly. So when some monks assisted in repairs near the body of St.
Lawrence, though they did not touch the body, they died within ten days.
Know then, madam, that when the Romans give any relics of saints they
never touch the bodies; they only put in a box a piece of linen, which
they place near the holy body. Then it is withdrawn and shut up in the
church which is to be dedicated, and then as many miracles are wrought by
it as if the body itself were there. In the time of St. Leo some Greeks
doubting of the value of such relics, he called for a pair of scissors and
cut the linen, and blood issued out, as our ancestors assure us. But not
to frustrate your pious desire, I will send you some portion of the chains
which St. Paul wore, and which work many miracles, if, however, I be able
to file off any. These filings are often begged. And the bishop applies
the file; and sometimes he immediately gets the filings; at other times he
labours in vain."
HOW TO DECIDE ON GENUINE RELICS (A.D. 844).
In 844 two pretended monks brought to the church of St. Cenignus at Dijon
a parcel of bones, which they said were the relics of some saint brought
from Italy. The bishop did not wish to acknowledge nor yet to despise
them, but desired the monks to get testimonials. One monk went away in
quest of a certificate, but never returned; the other monk died.
Meanwhile, it was reported that the bones worked miracles; for a woman
fell down suddenly in church, as if tormented, and yet with no visible
cause for her ailment. A rumour then arose, and crowds flocked to the
church of all ages and refused to leave. The bishop then consulted the
archbishop as to what should be done. The archbishop said that, as there
was no certainty, the bones should be removed secretly in presence of
witnesses and buried. He said that the bones might have been brought by
beggarly knaves only to gratify their avarice, and cause pretended
miracles to give them an appearance of sanctity. It was not uncommon for
knaves to encourage these abuses, that they might share in the profit and
fill their bellies and their purses. He himself had seen in his own
diocese persons brought to him who said that they were possessed, but by
the exorcism of a few bastinadoes properly applied confessed the
imposture, and declared that poverty had led them into it. He advised the
bishop to exhort the people to stay quietly each in his own parish; and
that when the alms and oblations should be cut off, the rabble would
quietly disperse, the illusion would cease, and all would be quiet.
THE CROWN OF THORNS PAWNED AND SOLD (A.D. 1240).
When Baldwin II. was Emperor of Constantinople, the crown of thorns was
pawned, as narrated _ante_, p. 19. Another chronicler gives the following
account of that interesting event: In the absence of the Emperor the
barons of Romania borrowed money upon the security of this precious relic;
and as they could not redeem it, a rich Venetian, Nicholas Querini,
undertook to satisfy the creditors on the condition that the relic should
be lodged at Venice. The barons informed the Emperor of this bargain; but
Baldwin was anxious to snatch the prize from the Venetians, and to vest it
with more honour and emolument in the hands of St. Louis, King of France.
The King sent two ambassadors to Venice to negotiate for the redemption of
the holy crown. The crown was enclosed in a golden vase, and was duly
forwarded to Troyes in Champagne, where the Court of France were ready to
welcome the inestimable relic. The King made a free gift of ten thousand
marks of silver to Baldwin, who was so pleased that he was encouraged to
offer the remaining furniture of his chapel, and for twenty thousand marks
more the King acquired a large portion of the true cross; the baby linen
of the Son of God; the lance, the sponge, and the chain of the Passion;
and part of the skull of St. John the Baptist.
THE CROWN OF THORNS BROUGHT TO FRANCE (A.D. 1240).
Matthew Paris's account is this: In 1240 France exulted in repeated
favours of our Lord Jesus Christ, for besides being rewarded with the body
of the Confessor Edmund, who had removed himself from England, it was
rejoiced by obtaining our Lord's crown of thorns from Constantinople.
Baldwin, Emperor of Constantinople, had sent word that if the French King
would give him effectual pecuniary assistance, he, the Emperor, would, in
consideration of his old ties of friendship, give him the veritable crown
of our Lord, which the Jews had woven and placed on His head when about to
suffer on the cross for the redemption of the human race. The French King,
by the advice of his council, willingly agreed to this, and, with his
mother's concurrence, liberally sent a large sum of money to the Emperor,
whose treasury had been exhausted by continual wars, and this supply
inspired the said Baldwin with confident hopes of obtaining a victory over
the Greeks. In return for this great benefit obtained from the King, the
Emperor, according to promise, faithfully sent to him the crown of Christ,
precious beyond gold or topaz. It was therefore solemnly and devoutly
received, to the credit of the French kingdom, and indeed of all the
Latins, in grand procession, amidst the ringing of bells and the devout
prayers of the faithful followers of Christ, and was placed with due
respect in the King's Chapel at Paris.
THE KING OF FRANCE SHOWS THE HOLY CROSS (A.D. 1241).
Matthew Paris says that in 1241 the French King and his mother, Blanche,
gave a large sum of money to the Saracens, in order to obtain possession
of the holy cross of our Lord. The cross had at first been bought by the
Venetians, then pawned by Baldwin, and at last was sold to the French
King. This cross, on reaching Paris, was placed in a carriage, in which
sat the King, his mother, his wife, and brothers, in presence of the
archbishops and nobles, and a countless host of people who were awaiting
the glorious sight with great joy of heart. After all had worshipped it
with due reverence and devotion, the King himself, barefooted, ungirt, and
with head bare, and after a fast of three days, carried it in wool to the
cathedral church of the Blessed Virgin at Paris. The two queens also
followed on foot. They also carried the crown of thorns, which the Divine
mercy had given to France the year before, and raising it on high on a
similar carriage, presented it to the gaze of the people. When they
arrived at the cathedral church, all the bells in the city were set
ringing; and after special prayers had been solemnly read, the King
returned to his palace, carrying his cross, his brothers carrying the
crown, and the priests following in a regular procession--a sight more
solemn or more joyful than which the kingdom of France had never seen. The
King ordered a chapel of handsome structure, suitable for the reception of
the said treasure, to be built near his palace, and in it he afterwards
placed the said relics with due honour. Besides these, there were in the
same beautiful chapel the garment belonging to Christ, the lance--that is
to say, the iron head of the lance--the sponge, and other relics besides.
THE BLOOD OF CHRIST AT WESTMINSTER (A.D. 1247).
Matthew of Westminster says that about the year 1247 the blood of Christ,
which was preserved in the Holy Land as a most precious treasure, was sent
and presented to the lord the King of England (Henry III.) by a certain
brother of the Hospital, who also sent the treasure written by the lord
the Patriarch of Jerusalem, and the masters of the body of knights of the
Temple and Hospital, who all with unanimous goodwill and prompt devotion
sent and gave and presented this treasure to the lord the King; and he
consigned it to his own special house in the church of St. Peter, at
Westminster, on the day of the translation of St. Edward, giving it to
that church out of his own spontaneous magnificence and liberality. He
also on the same day obtained from the bishops who were then present an
indulgence of six years and one hundred and sixteen days for all those who
came to worship the holy relics and the presence of the Lord. And about
the year 1249 the preaching brothers brought a stone of white marble,
which ever since the time of Christ had borne the print of the Saviour in
the Holy Land; and the inhabitants of the Holy Land asserted that that
impression was the print of the footstep of Christ when He was ascending
into heaven. And the aforesaid lord the King gave it as a noble present to
the church of Westminster, as he had, a little while before, given it the
blood of Christ.
THE DISCOVERY OF ST. STEPHEN'S RELICS (A.D. 415).
Though Stephen was the first martyr, nobody knew for near four hundred
years where his body was buried, except that it was at Caphargamala or
borough of Gamaliel, twenty miles from Jerusalem. Lucian, the priest of
that place, in 415 was one night asleep or half awake, when suddenly a
comely old man, of venerable garb and long white beard, with a golden
wand, entered the baptistery and told Lucian to go to Jerusalem and ask
Bishop John to come and open the tomb where lay Stephen, who was stoned by
the Jews, and whose body was exposed to wild beasts; but they would not
touch it. Whereupon the body was taken away by Gamaliel and buried in a
particular spot near the body of Nicodemus. Lucian asked who this
venerable messenger was, and the answer was, "I am Gamaliel, who
instructed Paul." The vision appeared several times to Lucian, as well as
others, giving further particulars. The search was afterwards made, and
three coffins found, one of which was Stephen's, at the opening of which
the earth shook and an agreeable odour issued. Many miracles were wrought
by these relics, and they were carried amid singing of psalms and hymns to
the church of Sion at Jerusalem. Portions of the relics were carried to
Spain by Orosius, and there caused many sudden conversions. Some also were
given to St. Austin for his church of Hippo. In 444 the Empress Eudocia
built a stately church about a furlong from Jerusalem, where Stephen's
relics were translated, the site being supposed to be that where he was
stoned to death.
THE RELICS OF ST. DUNSTAN AT GLASTONBURY (A.D. 1184).
As Dunstan, who died 988, was a most domineering and imperious monk in his
day, and stood up for his order, his bones were sacred. When Glastonbury
Abbey, after a great fire in 1184, was rebuilt, there was a great stirring
up of relics which were placed in shrines. Amongst others the St. Dunstan
relics gave rise to a quarrel between the monks of Glastonbury and those
of Canterbury, which lasted some four centuries. There was an old monk at
Glastonbury, named John Canan, who was believed to be the sole depositary
of the secret of Dunstan's burying-place, and a boy named John Waterleighe
was employed to get at the secret. The old monk, in circuitous phrase,
told the boy at last that the place was near the door where the holy water
was sprinkled, and this was divulged, and the other monks lifted a stone
and found a wooden chest plated with iron. The prior and all the convent
assembled to see it opened, and they found some of the bones of Dunstan
and a ring, in one half of which was a picture curiously worked. There was
a crown and the word _sanctus_ under it, so that they all were confident
these were the right relics. The relics were accordingly solemnly placed
in a shrine covered with gold and silver. When the monks of Canterbury
heard of this they were profoundly agitated, for they drew pilgrims
chiefly under the belief that their own abbey had the better part of the
saint. The rival monks wrote furious letters against each other; and
intrigues continued at Canterbury with varying success till the time of
the Reformation.
JOHN HUSS ON RELICS (A.D. 1401).
John Huss, born 1369, became a stirring preacher, and was appointed in
1401 to officiate at the chapel of Bethlehem, where poor people chiefly
attended. The archbishop of that time was anxious to check some of the
current superstitions, and used Huss as a means to that end. One matter
caused great wonder. A knight had destroyed a church some years before,
but left a stone altar standing. In one of the cavities were found three
wafers coloured red, as if with blood. Though such a colour is naturally
produced in bread and similar substances long exposed to moisture, there
being a fungus gradually formed, which under the microscope is easily
seen, but to the naked eye having a close resemblance to blood, the
ignorant multitude at once accepted this as a miracle, symbolical of the
blood of Christ; and extraordinary excitement grew up, and pilgrimages
were made from Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Hungary, Poland, and Bohemia, in
order to view it. The monks and clergy encouraged the wonder. The
archbishop, shocked by such a scandal, appointed a committee of three, one
of whom was Huss, to examine and report. Huss drew up a report reflecting
on this and many similar relics as entire delusions, and hinting that they
were put forward merely by greedy ecclesiastics for base purposes. He
reviewed the history of these impostures, and also exposed another fraud,
about a silver hand hung up by a citizen of Prague in a church, and which
was long believed to be in testimony of a lame hand of the donor being
miraculously cured, though there had been really no cure, as hundreds
could attest.
POWER OF THE CRUCIFIX DURING THE PLAGUE (A.D. 1649).
The extent to which images and their makers have produced effects on
excitable crowds was shown during the plague of Malaga in 1649. A certain
statue of Christ at the column carved for the cathedral by Giuseppe
Micael, an Italian, performed prodigies of healing, and bade fair to rival
that holy crucifix sculptured at Jerusalem by Nicodemus, and possessed by
the Capuchins of Burgos, which sweated on Fridays and wrought miracles all
the week. While the pestilence was yet raging, the sculptor stood one
evening musing near the door of the sanctuary where his work was
enshrined, but with so sorrowful a countenance that a friend, hailing him
from afar, according to the usages of plague-stricken society, inquired
the cause of his sadness. "Think you," said the artist, "that I have
anything more to look for on earth after seeing and hearing the prodigies
and marvels of this sovereign image which my unworthy hands have made? It
is an old tradition among the masters of our craft that he shall soon die
to whom it is given to make a miraculous image." And Giuseppe erred not in
his presentiment; his chisel's task was done. Within eight days the
dead-cart carried him to the gorged cemetery of Malaga. His fame was long
preserved by his statue, which obtained the name of the "Lord of Health."
THE POPE PURCHASES THE HEAD OF ST. ANDREW (A.D. 1461).
In 1461 great excitement was caused in Rome by the arrival of Thomas
Palæologus, brother of the last Byzantine emperor, who had been driven
from Greece, and brought with him from Patras, the supposed place of St.
Andrew's martyrdom, a head of that saint. The Pope (Pius II.), on hearing
of this venerable relic, eagerly entered into a treaty and secured it,
notwithstanding that many princes were his competitors. The head was
brought, with much ceremony, from Ancona, and was met at Narni by
Bessarion and other cardinals, and on its arrival in Rome it was received
with extraordinary reverence. Invitations were at once sent out by the
Pope on the same terms as for a jubilee, and great crowds flocked from all
parts. The head was carried to St. Peter's by a procession attended by
thirty thousand torches, while the palaces and houses along the route were
hung with tapestry and filled with altars. The weather was exceptionally
fine, and the procession filed from the Flaminian gate. The Vatican
basilica was splendidly illuminated, and the Pope addressed the holy relic
in an eloquent and impressive speech, the delivery of which was
interrupted by frequent tears, sobs, and beating of breasts. When the
ceremony was concluded, the head of St. Andrew was deposited beside that
of St. Peter.
PILGRIMAGE TO WALSINGHAM (A.D. 1061).
In 1061 an obscure widow, inhabiting a small village on the wild and
tempestuous coast of Norfolk, by erecting a little chapel resembling that
at Nazareth, where the Virgin was saluted by the angel Gabriel, was able
to impart a renown to that village which extended to all England. Erasmus
thus described it in his time: "Not far from the sea, about four miles,
there standeth a town living almost on nothing else but upon the resort of
pilgrims. There is a college of canons there, supported by their
offerings. In the church is a small chapel, but all of wood, whereunto,
on either side, at a narrow and little door, are such admitted as come
with their devotions and offerings. Small light there is in it, and none
other than by wax tapers, yielding a most dainty and pleasant smell; nay,
if you look into it, you would say it is the habitation of heavenly
saints, so bright and shining all over with precious stones, with gold and
silver." Camden also mentions that princes have repaired to this chapel,
walking thither barefoot.
A WINTER PILGRIMAGE IN SWITZERLAND (A.D. 1110).
Abbot Rodolph, about 1110, describes his pilgrimage across the Alps: "We
were detained at the foot of Mount Jove (Great St. Bernard), in a village
called Restopolis, from which we could neither advance nor retreat, in
consequence of the heavy snow. At length the guides conducted us as far as
St. Remi, which is on the same mountain, where we found a vast multitude
of travellers, and where we were in danger of death from the repeated
falls of snow from the rocks. We were detained there till at length the
guides said they would lead us, but demanded a heavy price. Their heads
and hands were guarded with skins and fur, and their shoes armed with iron
nails, to prevent them from slipping on the ice, and they carried long
spears in their hands, to feel their way over the snow. It was very early
in the morning, and with great fear and trembling the travellers
celebrated and received the holy mysteries, as if preparing themselves for
death. They contended with each other who should first make his
confession; and since one priest did not suffice, they went about the
church confessing their sins to each other. While these things were
passing within the church with great devotion, there was a lamentable
shout heard in the street; for the guides, who had left the town to clear
the way, were suddenly buried under a great fall of snow, as if under a
mountain. The people ran to save them, and pulled them out--some dead,
some but half alive, others with broken limbs. Upon this we all returned
to Restopolis, where we passed the Epiphany. Upon the weather clearing, we
again set out, and succeeded, happily, in passing the profane Mount of
Jove." St. Aderal of Troyes made twelve pilgrimages to Rome on foot. He
passed the Apennines in a season of intense cold barefooted, that he might
suffer something for Jesus Christ, and he used to beat the rocks with bare
feet.
PILGRIMS TO CANTERBURY (A.D. 1179).
In 1179 Louis VII., King of France, in the disguise of a common pilgrim
visited Canterbury as a humble supplicant at the tomb of À Becket, for the
restoration of sanity to the Dauphin, a prayer that was instantly complied
with. Louis proved his sincerity by offering a rich cup of gold and the
famous stone called Regal of France, which Henry VIII. appropriated to his
own use for a thumb ring. The great St. Thomas not only attended to the
prayers of mankind and restored eyes, limbs, and even life to hundreds;
but, to evince his power and exhibit his tenderness to all animated
nature, frequently, at the intercession of the monks, restored to life
dead birds and beasts. The Pope naturally encouraged these enthusiastic
feelings, though it is rather surprising that his holiness Pope Alexander
should cause a liturgy to be composed and read, in which our Saviour is
supplicated to redeem mankind, not by His holy blood, but by that of the
saint. Indeed, to such an extent was the adoration of Becket carried that
it nearly absorbed all other devotion. In one year the offerings at the
altar of the Deity at Canterbury amounted to £3 2_s._ 6_d._; at the
Virgin's, £63 5_s._ 6_d._; and at Becket's, £832 12_s._ 3_d._ And in
another year £954 6_s._ 3_d._ was received at Becket's altar, only £4
1_s._ 8_d._ at the Virgin's, while at that of the Deity the oblation did
not amount to one farthing!