{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_53841/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_53841","id":"gutenberg_53841","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53841","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - Ancient","Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christian women saints","Martyrs"],"text":"[Illustration: title page]\n\n\n\n\n                             VIRGIN SAINTS\n                              AND MARTYRS\n\n\n                           By S. BARING-GOULD\n                 Author of \u201c_The Lives of the Saints_\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                         WITH SIXTEEN FULL-PAGE\n                       ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. ANGER\n\n\n\n\n                  New York      THOMAS Y. CROWELL & Co.\n                  Publishers              1901\n\n\n\n\n                                CONTENTS\n\n                                                   PAGE\n\n                    I. BLANDINA THE SLAVE             1\n                   II. S. C\u00c6CILIA                    19\n                  III. S. AGNES                      39\n                   IV. FEBRONIA OF SIBAPTE           53\n                    V. THE DAUGHTER OF CONSTANTINE   75\n                   VI. THE SISTER OF S. BASIL        93\n                  VII. GENEVI\u00c8VE OF PARIS           111\n                 VIII. THE SISTER OF S. BENEDICT    129\n                   IX. S. BRIDGET                   149\n                    X. THE DAUGHTERS OF BRIDGET     179\n                   XI. S. ITHA                      197\n                  XII. S. HILDA                     217\n                 XIII. S. ELFLEDA                   231\n                  XIV. S. WERBURGA                  253\n                   XV. A PROPHETESS                 275\n                  XVI. S. CLARA                     295\n                 XVII. S. THERESA                   315\n                XVIII. SISTER DORA                  349\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: BLANDINA THE SLAVE.]\n\n\n\n\n                                   I\n\n                          _BLANDINA THE SLAVE_\n\n\nIn the second century Lyons was the Rome of Gaul as it is now the second\nParis of France. It was crowded with temples and public monuments. It\nwas moreover the Athens of the West, a resort of scholars. Seated at the\nconfluence of two great rivers, the Rh\u00f4ne and the S\u00e2one, it was a centre\nof trade. It is a stately city now. It was more so in the second century\nwhen it did not bristle with the chimneys of factories pouring forth\ntheir volumes of black smoke, which the atmosphere, moist from the\nmountains, carries down so as to envelop everything in soot.\n\nIn the great palace, now represented by the hospital, the imbecile\nClaudius and the madman Caligula were born. To the east and south far\naway stand Mont Blanc and the snowy range on the Dauphin\u00e9 Alps.\n\nLyons is a city that has at all times summed in it the finest as well as\nthe worst characteristic of the Gallic people. The rabble of Lyons were\nferocious in 177, and ferocious again in 1793; but at each epoch, during\nthe Pagan terror and the Democratic terror, it produced heroes of faith\nand endurance.\n\nThe Emperor Marcus Aurelius was a philosopher full of good intentions,\nand a sentimental lover of virtue. But he fondly conceived that virtue\ncould only be found in philosophy, and that Christianity, which was a\ndoctrine and not a speculation, must be wrong; and as its chief\nadherents belonged to the slave and needy classes, that therefore it was\nbeneath his dignity to inquire into it. He was a stickler for the\nkeeping up of old Roman institutions, and the maintenance of such rites\nas were sanctioned by antiquity; and because the Christians refused to\ngive homage to the gods and to swear by the genius of the emperor, he\nordered that they should be persecuted to the death.\n\nHe had been a pretty, curly-haired boy, and a good-looking young man. He\nhad kept himself respectable, and looked on himself with smug\nself-satisfaction accordingly. Had he stooped to inquire what were the\ntenets, and what the lives, of those whom he condemned to death, he\nwould have shrunk with horror from the guilt of proclaiming a general\npersecution.\n\nIn Lyons, as elsewhere, when his edict arrived the magistrates were\nbound to seek out and sentence such as believed in Christ.\n\nA touching letter exists, addressed by the Church of Lyons to those of\nAsia and Phrygia giving an account of what it suffered; and as the\nhistorian Eusebius embodied it in his history, it happily has been\npreserved from the fingering, and rewriting, and heightening with\nimpossible marvels which fell to the lot of so many of the Acts of the\nMartyrs, when the public taste no longer relished the simple food of the\nunadorned narratives that were extant.\n\n\u201cThe grace of God,\u201d said the writers, \u201ccontended for us, rescuing the\nweak, and strengthening the strong. These latter endured every species\nof reproach and torture. First they sustained bravely all the insults\nheaped on them by the rabble\u2014blows and abuse, plundering of their goods,\nstoning and imprisonment. Afterwards they were led into the forum and\nwere questioned by the tribune and by the town authorities before all\nthe people, and then sent to prison to await the coming of the governor.\nVetius Epagathus, one of the brethren, abounding in love to God and man,\noffered to speak in their defence; whereupon those round the tribunal\nshouted out at him, as he was a man of good position. The governor did\nnot pay attention to his request, but merely asked whether he, too, were\na Christian. When he confessed that he was, he also was transferred to\nthe number of the martyrs.\u201d\n\nWhat the numbers were we are not told. The most prominent among them\nwere Pothinus, the bishop, a man in his ninetieth year, Sanctus, the\ndeacon of the Church of Vienne, Maturus, a recent convert, Attalus, a\nnative of Pergamus, Blandina, a slave girl, and her mistress, another\nwoman named Biblis, and Vetius, above referred to.\n\nAmong those arrested were ten who when tortured gave way: one of these\nwas Biblis; but, although they yielded, yet they would not leave the\nplace of trial, and remained to witness the sufferings of such as stood\nfirm; and some\u2014among these was Biblis\u2014plucking up courage, presented\nthemselves before the judge and made amends for their apostasy by\nshedding their blood for Christ.\n\nThe slaves belonging to the Christians of rank had been seized and were\ninterrogated; and they, in their terror lest they should be put to\ntorture, confessed anything the governor desired\u2014that the Christians ate\nlittle children and \u201ccommitted such crimes as are neither lawful for us\nto speak of nor think about; and which we really believe no men ever did\ncommit.\u201d\n\nThe defection of the ten caused dismay among the faithful, for they\nfeared lest it should be the prelude to the surrender of others.\n\nThe governor, the proconsul, arrived at the time of the annual fair,\nwhen Lyons was crowded; and he deemed this a good opportunity for\nstriking terror into the hearts of the Christians.\n\nThose who stood firm were brought out of prison, and, as they would not\ndo sacrifice to the gods, were subjected to torture.\n\nBlandina was a peculiarly delicately framed young woman, and not strong.\nHer mistress, who was one of the martyrs, was apprehensive for her; but\nBlandina in the end witnessed the most splendid confession of all. She\nwas frightfully tortured with iron hooks and hot plates applied to her\nflesh from morning till night, till the executioners hardly knew what\nmore to do; \u201cher entire body being torn and pierced.\u201d\n\nBrass plates, red hot, were also applied to the most tender parts of the\nbody of the deacon, Sanctus, but he continued unsubdued, firm in his\nconfession. At last he was thrown down on the sand, a mass of wounds, so\nmangled and burnt that he seemed hardly to retain the human shape. He\nand Blandina were conveyed back to prison.\n\nNext day \u201cthe tormentors tortured Sanctus again, supposing that whilst\nhis wounds were swollen and inflamed, if they continued to rend them\nwhen so sensitive as not to bear the touch of the hand, they must break\nhis spirit\u201d\u2014but it was again in vain.\n\nThen it was that Biblis, the woman who had done sacrifice, came forward\n\u201clike one waking out of a deep sleep,\u201d and upbraided the torturers;\nwhereupon she was dragged before the chief magistrate, confessed Christ,\nand was numbered among the martyrs.\n\nThe proconsul ordered all to be taken back to prison, and they were\nthrust into a black and noisome hole, and fastened in the stocks, their\nfeet distended to the fifth hole\u2014that is to say, stretched apart as far\nas was possible without dislocation\u2014and so, covered with sores, wounds\nand blisters, unable to sleep in this attitude, they were left for the\nnight. The suffocation of the crowded den was too much for some, and in\nthe morning certain of those who had been crowded into it were drawn\nforth dead.\n\nNext day the aged bishop Pothinus was led before the magistrate. He was\nquestioned, and asked who was the God of the Christians.\n\n\u201cIf thou art worthy,\u201d answered he, \u201cthou shalt know.\u201d\n\nHe was then stripped and scourged, and beaten about the head. The crowd\noutside the barriers now took up whatever was at hand, stones,\nbrickbats, dirt, and flung them at him, howling curses and blasphemies.\nThe old man fell gasping, and in a state hardly conscious was dragged to\nthe prison.\n\nAnd now, on the great day of the fair, when the shows were to be given\nto the people, the proconsul for their delectation threw open the\namphitheatre. This was a vast oval, capable of holding forty thousand\nspectators. It was packed. On one side, above the arena, was the seat of\nthe chief magistrate, and near him those reserved for the city magnates.\nAt the one end, a series of arches, now closed with gates of stout bars\nand cross-bars, hinged above and raised on these hinges by a chain,\nopened from the dens in which the wild beasts were kept. The beasts had\nnot been fed for three days, that they might be ravenous.\n\nIt was the beginning of June\u2014doubtless a bright summer day, and an\nawning kept off the sun from the proconsul. Those on one side of the\namphitheatre, the slaves on the highest row, could see, vaporous and\nblue on the horizon, above the crowded tiers opposite, the chain of the\nAlps, their crests white with eternal snows.\n\n\u201cNo sooner was the chief magistrate seated, to the blare of trumpets,\nthan the martyrs were introduced. Sanctus had to be supported; he could\nhardly walk, he was such a mass of wounds. All were now stripped of\ntheir garments and were scourged. Blandina was attached to a post in the\ncentre of the arena. She had been forced every day to attend and witness\nthe sufferings of the rest.\u201d\n\nBut even now they were not to be despatched at once. Maturus and Sanctus\nwere placed on iron chairs, and fires were lighted under them so that\nthe fumes of their roasted flesh rose up and were dissipated by the\nlight summer air over the arena, and the sickening savour was inhaled by\nthe thousands of cruel and savage spectators.\n\nThen they were cast off to be despatched with the sword.\n\nThe dens were opened. Lions, tigers, leopards bounded forth on the sand\nroaring. By a strange accident Blandina escaped. The hungry beasts paced\nround the arena, but would not touch her.\n\nThen a Greek physician, called Alexander, who was looking on, unable to\nrestrain his enthusiasm, by signs gave encouragement to the martyrs. So\nat least it would seem, for all at once we learn that the mob roared for\nAlexander, as one who urged on the Christians to obstinacy. The governor\nsent for him, asked who he was, and when he confessed that he was a\nChristian, sent him to prison.\n\nAttalus was now led forth, with a tablet on his breast on which was\nwritten in Latin, \u201cThis is Attalus, the Christian.\u201d\n\nAs he was about to be delivered to the tormentors, some one whispered to\nthe proconsul that the man was a Roman. He hesitated, and sent him back\nto prison.\n\nThen a number of other Christians who had Roman citizenship were\nproduced, and had their heads struck off. Others who had not this\nprivilege were delivered over to the beasts. And now some of those who\nhad recanted came forward and offered themselves to death.\n\nNext day the proconsul was again in his place in the amphitheatre. He\nhad satisfied himself that Attalus could not substantiate his claim to\ncitizenship, so he ordered him to torture and death. He also was placed\nin the iron chair; after which he and Alexander were given up to be\ndevoured by the beasts.\n\nThis was the last day of the shows, and to crown all, Blandina was now\nproduced, together with a boy of fifteen, called Ponticus. He, like\nBlandina, had been compelled daily to witness the torments to which the\nrest had been subjected.\n\nAnd now the same hideous round of tortures began, and Blandina in the\nmidst of her agony continued to encourage the brave boy till he died.\nBlandina had been roasted in the iron chair and scourged.\n\nAs a variety she was placed in a net. Then the gate of one of the larger\ndens was raised, and forth rushed a bull, pawed the sand, tossed his\nhead, looked round, and seeing the net, plunged forward with bowed head.\nNext moment Blandina was thrown into the air, fell, was thrown again,\nthen gored\u2014but was happily now unconscious. Thus she died, and \u201ceven the\nGentiles confessed that no woman among them had ever endured sufferings\nas many and great.\u201d But not even then was their madness and cruelty to\nthe saints satisfied, for \u201c... those who were suffocating in prison were\ndrawn forth and cast to the dogs; and they watched night and day over\nthe remains left by beasts and fire, however mangled they might be, to\nprevent us from burying them. The bodies, after exposure and abuse in\nevery possible way during six days, were finally cast into the Rh\u00f4ne.\nThese things they did as if they were able to resist God and prevent\ntheir resurrection.\u201d\n\nThe dungeons in which S. Pothinus, S. Blandina, and the rest of the\nmartyrs were kept through so many days, are shown beneath the abbey\nchurch of Ainay at Lyons. It is possible enough that Christian tradition\nmay have preserved the remembrance of the site. They are gloomy cells,\nwithout light or air, below the level of the river. The apertures by\nwhich they are entered are so low that the visitor is obliged to creep\ninto them on his hands and knees. Traces of Roman work remain. Adjoining\nis a crypt that was used as a chapel till the Revolution, when it was\ndesecrated. It is, however, again restored, the floor has been inlaid\nwith mosaics, and the walls are covered with modern frescoes,\nrepresenting the passion of the martyrs.\n\nWhat makes it difficult to believe that these are the dungeons is that\nthe abbey above them is constructed on the site of the Athen\u00e6um founded\nby Caligula, a great school of debate and composition, and it is most\nimprobable that the town prisons should have been under the university\nbuildings. In all likelihood in the early Middle Ages these vaults were\nfound and supposed to have been the prisons of the martyrs, and\nsupposition very rapidly became assurance that they were so. The prison\nin which the martyrs were enclosed was the _lignum_ or _robur_, which\nwas certainly not below the level of the river.\n\nThe question arises, when one reads stories of such inhuman cruelties\ndone, did the victims suffer as acutely as we suppose? I venture to\nthink not _at the time_. There can be no question, as it is a thing\nrepeatedly attested, that in a moment of great excitement the nerves are\nnot very sensitive. The pain of wounds received in battle is not felt\ntill after the battle is over. Moreover, it may be questioned whether\nthe human system can endure pain above a certain grade\u2014whether, in fact,\nbeyond a limit, insensibility does not set in.\n\nI attended once a poor lady who was frightfully burnt. A paraffin lamp\nset fire to a gauze or lace wrap she had about her neck. All her throat\nand the lower portion of her face were frightfully burnt. I was\nrepeatedly with her, but she was unconscious or as in a sleep; there was\nno expression of anguish in her face. She quietly sank through\nexhaustion. I have questioned those who have met with shocking\naccidents, and have always been assured that the pain began when nature\ncommenced its labour of repair. Pain, excruciating pain, can be endured,\nand for a long period; but I think that when carried beyond a fixed\nlimit it ceases to be appreciable, as insensibility sets in.\n\nThis is a matter for investigation, and it were well if those who read\nthese lines were to endeavour to collect evidence to substantiate or\noverthrow what is, with me, only an opinion.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. C\u00c6CILIA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                   II\n\n                              _S. C\u00c6CILIA_\n\n\nIn 1876, when I was writing the November volume of my \u201cLives of the\nSaints,\u201d and had to deal with the Acts of S. C\u00e6cilia, I saw at once that\nthey were eminently untrustworthy\u2014they were, in fact, a religious\nromance, very similar to others of the like nature; and my mistrust was\ndeepened when I found that the name of C\u00e6cilia did not appear in either\nthe Roman Kalendar of the fourth century, nor in the Carthagenian of the\nfifth.\n\nThe Acts were in Greek, and it was not till the time of Pope Gelasius\n(496) that her name appeared at all prominently; then he introduced it\ninto his Sacramentary.\n\nThe Acts as we have them cannot be older than the fifth century, and\ncontain gross anachronisms. They make her suffer when Urban was Pope,\nunder an apocryphal prefect, Turcius Almachius; but the date of Pope\nUrban was in the reign of Alexander Severus, who did not persecute the\nChurch at all\u2014who, in fact, favoured the Christians.\n\nBut although there is so much to make one suspicious as to the very\nexistence of S. C\u00e6cilia, a good many facts have been brought to light\nwhich are sufficient to show that it was the stupidity of the composer\nof the apocryphal Acts which has thrown such doubt over the Virgin\nMartyr.\n\nIf we eliminate what is obviously due to the romantic imagination of the\nauthor of the Acts in the fifth century, the story reduces itself to\nthis.\n\nC\u00e6cilia was a maiden of noble family, and her parents were of senatorial\nrank. From her earliest youth she was brought up as a Christian, but\nthat her father was one is doubtful, as he destined his daughter to\nbecome the wife of an honourable young patrician named Valerian, who\nwas, however, a pagan.\n\nC\u00e6cilia would not hear of the marriage on this account; and Valerian,\nwho loved her dearly, by her advice went to Urban the Pope, who was\nliving in concealment in the Catacomb in the Appian Way, to learn\nsomething about the Faith. Valerian took with him his brother,\nTiburtius; they were both convinced, were baptised, and, as they\nconfessed Christ, suffered martyrdom; and the officer who arrested them,\nnamed Maximus, also believed and underwent the same fate. All three were\nlaid in the Catacomb of Pr\u00e6textatus.\n\nC\u00e6cilia, in the meantime, had remained unmolested in her father\u2019s house\nin Rome.\n\nThe Prefect resolved to have her put to death privately, as she belonged\nto an illustrious family, perhaps also in consideration for her father,\nstill a heathen.\n\nHe gave orders that the underground passages for heating the winter\napartments should be piled with wood, and an intense fire made, and that\nthe room in which C\u00e6cilia was should be closed, so that she should die\nof suffocation. This was done, but she survived the attempt. This is by\nno means unlikely. The walls were heated by pipes through which the hot\nair passed, and there was a thick pavement of concrete and mosaic\nbetween the fires and the room. Everything depended on the chamber being\nshut up, and there being no air admitted; but it is precisely this\nlatter requisite that could not be assured. In her own house, where the\nslaves were warmly attached to her, nothing would be easier than to\nwithdraw the cover of the opening in the ceiling, by means of which\nventilation was secured. By some means or other air was admitted, and\nalthough, doubtless, C\u00e6cilia suffered discomfort from the great heat,\nyet she was not suffocated.\n\nThe chamber was the _Calidarium_, or hot-air bath attached to the\npalace, and in the church of S. C\u00e6cilia in Trastevere a portion of this\nis still visible.\n\nAs the attempt had failed, the Prefect sent an executioner to kill her\nwith the sword.\n\nHer beauty, youth, and grace, so affected the man that, although he\nsmote thrice at her throat, he did not kill her. It was against the law\nto strike more than thrice, so he left her prostrate on the mosaic floor\nbathed in her blood.\n\nNo sooner was the executioner gone than from all sides poured in her\nrelatives, the slaves, and the faithful to see her, and to receive the\nlast sigh of the Martyr. They found her lying on the marble pavement,\nhalf conscious only, and they dipped their kerchiefs in her blood, and\nendeavoured to staunch the wounds in her throat.\n\nShe lingered two days and nights in the same condition, and without\nmoving, hanging between life and death; and then\u2014so say the Acts\u2014Pope\nUrban arrived, braving the risk, from his hiding-place, to say farewell\nto his dear daughter in the Faith. Thereupon she turned to him,\ncommended to him the care of the poor, entreated her father to surrender\nhis house to the Church, and expired. In the Acts she addresses the Pope\nas \u201cYour Beatitude,\u201d an expression used in the fifth century, and\ncertainly not in the third.\n\nShe died, as she had lain, her face to the ground, her hands and arms\ndeclining on the right, as she rested on that side.\n\nThe same night her body was enclosed in a cypress chest, and was\nconveyed to the cemetery of S. Callixtus, where Urban laid it in a\nchamber \u201cnear that in which reposed his brother prelates and martyrs.\u201d\n\nSo far the legend. Now let us see whether it is possible to reconcile it\nwith history.\n\nIn the first place, it is to be observed that the whole of the\ndifficulty lies with Urban being Pope. If we suppose that in the\noriginal Acts the name was simply \u201cUrban the Bishop,\u201d and that the\nremodeller of the Acts took the liberty of transforming him into Pope\nUrban, the difficulty vanishes at once. He may have been some regionary\nbishop in hiding. He may not have been a bishop at all, but a priest;\nand the writer, ignorant of history, and knowing only of the Urbans as\nPopes, may have given rise to all this difficulty by transforming him\ninto a Pope.\n\nNow, in the Acts, the Prefect does not speak of the Emperor, but of\n\u201cDomini nostri invictissimi principes\u201d (our Lords the unconquered\nPrinces). The Emperor, therefore, cannot have been Alexander. Now, Ado\nthe martyrologist, in or about 850, must have referred to other Acts\nthan those we possess, for he enters S. C\u00e6cilia as having suffered under\nMarcus Aurelius and Commodus\u2014that is to say, in 177. This explains the\nPrefect referring to the orders of the Princes.\n\nIf we take this as the date, and Urban as being a priest or bishop of\nthe time, the anachronisms are at an end.\n\nThat the Acts should have been in Greek is no proof that they were not\ndrawn up in Rome, for Greek was the language of the Church there, and\nindeed the majority of the most ancient inscriptions in the Catacombs\nare in that language.\n\nSo much for the main difficulties. Now let us see what positive\nevidences we have to substantiate the story.\n\nThe excavation of the Cemetery of S. Callixtus, which was begun in 1854,\nand was carried on with great care by De Rossi, led to the clearing out\nof a crypt in which the early Bishops of Rome had been laid. The bodies\nhad been removed when Paschal I. conveyed so many of those of the saints\nand martyrs into Rome, on account of the ruin into which the Catacombs\nhad fallen, but their epitaphs remained, all of the third century, and\nin Greek; among these, that of Urbanus, 230; and it was perhaps\nprecisely this fact which led the recomposer of the Acts to confound the\nUrban of S. C\u00e6cilia\u2019s time with the Pope. The first Pope known to have\nbeen laid there was Zephyrinus, in 218. Here also was found an\ninscription set up by Damasus I., recording how that the bodies of\nbishops and priests, virgins and confessors lay in that place.\n\nNow by a narrow, irregular opening in the rock, entrance is obtained to\na further chamber, about twenty feet square, lighted by a _luminare_ in\nthe top, or an opening to the upper air cut in the tufa. This, there can\nbe no manner of doubt, is the crypt in which reposed the body of S.\nC\u00e6cilia.\n\nIn the Acts it was said to adjoin that in which were laid the Bishops of\nRome; though, as these bishops were of later date than C\u00e6cilia, if we\ntake her death to have been in 177, their crypt must have been dug out\nor employed for the purpose of receiving their bodies at a later period.\n\nAgain, it is an interesting fact, that here a number of the tombstones\nthat have been discovered bear the C\u00e6cilian name, showing that this\ncemetery must have belonged to that _gens_ or clan. Not only so, but one\nis inscribed with that of Septimus Pr\u00e6textatus C\u00e6cilianus, a servant of\nGod during thirty years. It will be remembered that Pr\u00e6textatus was the\nname of the brother of Valerian, who was betrothed to C\u00e6cilia, and it\nleads one to suspect that the families of Valerian and of C\u00e6cilia were\nakin.\n\nThe chapel or crypt contains frescoes. In the _luminare_ is painted a\nfemale figure with the hands raised in prayer. Beneath this a cross with\na lamb on each side. Below are three male figures with the names\nSebastianus, Curinus (Quirinus), and Polycamus. Sebastian is doubtless\nthe martyr of that name whose basilica is not far off. Quirinus, who has\nthe _corona_ of a priest, is the bishop and martyr of Siscia, whose body\nwas brought in 420 to Rome. Of Polycamus nothing is known, save that his\nrelics were translated in the ninth century to S. Prassede.\n\nAgainst the wall lower down is a seventh-century representation of S.\nC\u00e6cilia, richly clothed with necklace and bracelets; below a head of\nChrist of Byzantine type, and a representation of S. Urban. But these\npaintings, which are late, have been applied over earlier decoration;\nbehind the figure of S. C\u00e6cilia is mosaic, and that of Christ is painted\non the old porphyry panelling. There are in this crypt recesses for the\nreception of bodies, and near the entrance an arched place low enough to\nreceive a sarcophagus; and there are traces as though the face had at\none time been walled up.\n\nThe walls are covered with _graffiti_, or scribbles made by pilgrims. An\ninscription also remains, to state that this was the sepulchre of S.\nC\u00e6cilia the Martyr, but this inscription is not earlier than the ninth\nor tenth century.\n\nIn 817 Paschal I. was Pope, and in the following year he removed\nenormous numbers of the remains of martyrs from the Catacombs into the\nchurches of Rome, because the condition into which these subterranean\ncemeteries were falling was one of ruin. They had been exposed to the\ndepredations of the Lombards, and then to decay. Some had fallen in, and\nwere choked.\n\nPrecisely this Catacomb had been plundered by the Lombard king, Astulf,\nand it was not known whether he had carried off the body of S. C\u00e6cilia\nor not. All those of the former popes Paschal removed.\n\nIn 844, however, Paschal pretended that he had seen S. C\u00e6cilia in a\ndream, who had informed him that she still lay in her crypt in the\nCatacomb of S. Callixtus. No reliance can be placed on the word of a man\nso unprincipled as Paschal. At this very time two men of the highest\nrank, who were supporters of Louis the Pious, the Emperor, had been\nseized, dragged to the Lateran Palace, their eyes plucked out, and then\nbeheaded. The Pope was openly accused of this barbarous act. The Emperor\nsent envoys to examine into it, but Paschal threw all sorts of\ndifficulties in their way. He refused to produce the murderers; he\nasserted that they were guilty of no crime in killing these unfortunate\nmen, and he secured the assassins by investing them with a half-sacred\ncharacter as servants of the Church of S. Peter. Himself he exculpated\nfrom all participation in the deed by a solemn, expurgatorial oath. Such\nwas the man who pretended to visions of the saints. His dream was an\nafterthought. In the clearing out of the crypt of S. C\u00e6cilia, the wall\nthat had closed the grave was broken through, and the cypress chest was\ndisclosed. Whereupon Paschal promptly declared he had dreamt that so it\nwould be found. The body was found in the coffin, incorrupt, and at its\nfeet were napkins rolled together and stained with blood.\n\nThis discovery, which seems wholly improbable, is yet not impossible. If\nthe _arcosolium_ had been hermetically sealed up, the body need not have\nfallen to dust; and, as a fact, De Rossi did discover, along with\nMarchi, in 1853, a body in the Via Appia, without the smallest trace of\nalteration and decay in the bones.[1]\n\nPaschal himself relates that he lined the chest with fringed silk, and\ncovered the body with a silk veil. It was then enclosed in a sarcophagus\nof white marble, and laid under the high altar of the Church of S.\nC\u00e6cilia in Trastevere.\n\nThis church has been made out of the old house of S. C\u00e6cilia, and to\nthis day, notwithstanding rebuildings, it bears traces of its origin.\n\nNearly eight hundred years after this translation, Sfondrati, cardinal\nof S. C\u00e6cilia, being about to carry on material alterations in the\nbasilica, came on the sarcophagus lying in a vault under the altar. It\nwas not alone\u2014another was with it.\n\nIn the presence of witnesses one of these was opened. It contained a\ncoffin or chest of cypress wood. The Cardinal himself removed the cover.\nFirst was seen the costly lining and the silken veil, with which nearly\neight centuries before Paschal had covered the body. It was faded, but\nnot decayed, and through the almost transparent texture could be seen\nthe glimmer of the gold of the garments in which the martyr was clad.\nAfter a pause of a few minutes, the Cardinal lifted the veil, and\nrevealed the form of the maiden martyr lying in the same position in\nwhich she had died on the floor of her father\u2019s hall. Neither Urban nor\nPaschal had ventured to alter that. She lay there, clothed in a garment\nwoven with gold thread, on which were the stains of blood; and at her\nfeet were the rolls of linen mentioned by Paschal, as found with the\nbody. She was lying on her right side, the arms sunk from the body, her\nface turned to the ground; the knees slightly bent and drawn together.\nThe attitude was that of one in a deep sleep. On the throat were the\nmarks of the wounds dealt by the clumsy executioner.\n\nThus she had lain, preserved from decay through thirteen centuries.\n\nWhen this discovery was made, Pope Clement VIII. was lying ill at\nFrascati, but he empowered Cardinal Baronius and Bosio, the explorer of\nthe Catacombs, to examine into the matter; and both of these have left\nan account of the condition in which the body was found. For five weeks\nall Rome streamed to the church to see the body; and it was not until S.\nC\u00e6cilia\u2019s Day that it was again sealed up in its coffin and marble\nsarcophagus.\n\nCardinal Sfondrati gave a commission to the sculptor Maderna to\nreproduce the figure of the Virgin Martyr in marble in the attitude in\nwhich found, and beneath this is the inscription:\u2014\u201cSo I show to you in\nmarble the representation of the most holy Virgin C\u00e6cilia, in the same\nposition in which I myself saw her incorrupt lying in her sepulchre.\u201d\n\nA woodcut was published at the time of the discovery figuring it, but\nthis is now extremely scarce.\n\nIn the second sarcophagus were found the bones of three men; two, of the\nsame age and size, had evidently died by decapitation. The third had its\nskull broken, and the abundant hair was clotted with blood, as though\nthe martyr had been beaten to death and his skull fractured with the\n_plumbat\u00e6_ or leaded scourges.\n\nThe Acts of S. C\u00e6cilia expressly say that this was the manner of death\nof Maximus. The other two bodies were doubtless those of Valerian and\nTiburtius.\n\nOf the statue by Maderna, Sir Charles Bell says: \u201cThe body lies on its\nside, the limbs a little drawn up; the hands are delicate and fine\u2014they\nare not locked, but crossed at the wrists; the arms are stretched out.\nThe drapery is beautifully modelled, and modestly covers the limbs....\nIt is the statue of a lady, perfect in form, and affecting from the\nresemblance to reality in the drapery of the white marble, and the\nunspotted appearance of the statue altogether. It lies as no living body\ncould lie, and yet correctly, as the dead when left to expire\u2014I mean in\nthe gravitation of the limbs.\u201d\n\nS. C\u00e6cilia is associated with music: she is regarded as the patroness of\nthe organ. This is entirely due to the highly imaginative Acts of the\nFifth and Sixth Century.\n\n             \u201cOrpheus could lead the savage race;\n              And trees uprooted left their place,\n                   Sequacious of the lyre:\n              But bright C\u00e6cilia rais\u2019d the wonder higher:\n              When to her organ vocal breath was given,\n              An angel heard, and straight appear\u2019d,\n                   Mistaking earth for heaven.\u201d\n\nSo sang Dryden. Chaucer has given the Legend of S. C\u00e6cilia as the Second\nNun\u2019s Tale in the Canterbury Pilgrimage.\n\nThere is a marvellous collection of ancient statues in Rome, in the\nTorlonia Gallery. It was made by the late Prince Torlonia. Unhappily, he\nkept three sculptors in constant employ over these ancient statues,\ntouching them up, adding, mending, altering. It is a vast collection,\nand now the Torlonia family desire to sell it; but no one will buy, for\nno one can trust any single statue therein; no one knows what is ancient\nand what is new. The finest old works are of no value, because of the\npatching and correcting to which they have been subjected.\n\nIt is the same with the Acts of the Martyrs: they have been tinkered at\nand \u201cimproved\u201d in the fifth and sixth centuries, and even later, no\ndoubt with the best intention, but with the result that they have\u2014or\nmany of them have\u2014lost credit altogether.\n\nWhat a buyer of statuary from the Torlonia Gallery would insist on\ndoing, would be to drag the statues out into the sunshine and go over\nthem with a microscope and see where a piece of marble had been added,\nor where a new face had been put on old work. Then he would be able to\nform a judgment as to the value of the statue or bust. And this is\nprecisely the treatment to which the legends of the martyrs have to be\nsubjected. But this treatment tells sometimes in their favour.\nNarratives that at first sight seem conspicuously false or manufactured,\nwill under the critical microscope reveal the sutures, and show what is\nold and genuine, and what is adventitious and worthless.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. AGNES.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  III\n\n                               _S. AGNES_\n\n\nAbout a mile from the Porta Pia, beside the Nomentine road that leads\nfrom Rome to the bridge over the Arno and to Montana, are the basilica\nand catacomb of S. Agnese. We are there on high ground, and here the\nparents of the saint had a villa and vineyard.\n\nThey were Christians, and their garden had an entrance to a catacomb in\nwhich the faithful were interred. We know this, because some of the\nburials in the passages underground are of more ancient date than the\nmartyrdom of S. Agnes, which took place in 304.\n\nA little lane, very dirty, leads down hence into the Salarian road, and\nthere is a mean dribble of a stream in a hollow below.\n\nThe rock is all of the volcanic tufa that is so easily cut, but which in\nthe roads resolves itself into mud of the dirtiest and most consistent\ndescription.\n\nNew Rome is creeping along the road, its gaunt and eminently vulgar\nhouses are destroying the beauty of this road, which commanded exquisite\nviews of the Sabine and Alban mountains, and the lovely Torlonia gardens\nhave already been destroyed. Nor is this all, for the foundations of\nthese useless and hideous buildings are being driven down into more than\none old catacomb, which as soon as revealed is destroyed.\n\nWhere now stands the basilica of S. Agnese was the catacomb in which her\nbody was laid. The church is peculiar, in that it is half underground.\nOne has to descend into it by a staircase of forty-five ancient marble\nsteps, lined with inscriptions taken from the catacomb. The cause for\nthis peculiarity is not that the soil has risen about the basilica, but\nthat when it was proposed to build the church over the tomb of the saint\nwho was below in the catacomb, the whole of the crust of rock and earth\nabove was removed, so that the subterranean passages were exposed to\nlight; and then the foundations of the sacred edifice were laid on this\nlevel, and were carried up above the surface of the ground.\n\nBut this is not the only church that bears the name of S. Agnes: there\nis another in Rome itself, opposite the Torre Mellina, on the site of\nher martyrdom, in the Piazza Navona, which occupies the place of the old\ncircus of Domitian. It is a very ugly building of 1642, but contains a\ntolerable representation, in relief, of the martyrdom of the saint.\n\nUnfortunately we have not got the Acts of the martyrdom of S. Agnes in\ntheir original form. It was the custom of the Church to have scribes\npresent at the interrogation and death of a martyr, who took down in\nshorthand the questions put and the answers made, and the sentence of\nthe judge. These records, which were of the highest value, were\npreserved in the archives of the Roman Church. Unhappily, at a later\nage, such very simple accounts, somewhat crude maybe in style, and\nentirely deficient in the miraculous, did not suit the popular taste.\nMeanwhile the stories of the martyrs had been passed from mouth to\nmouth, and various additions had been made to give them a smack of\nromance; the account of the deaths was embellished with marvels, and\nmade excruciating by the piling up of tortures; and then the popular\nvoice declared that the persecutors must have been punished at once; so\nit was fabled that lightning fell and consumed them, or that the earth\nopened and swallowed them.\n\nNow, when the Acts of Martyrs were found to contain nothing of all this,\nthen writers set to work\u2014not with the intention of deceiving, but with\nthe idea that the genuine Acts were defective\u2014to recompose the stories,\nby grafting into the original narrative all the rubbish that had passed\ncurrent in popular legend. Thus it has come to pass that so few of the\nActs of the Martyrs, as we have them, are in their primitive form. They\nhave been more or less stuffed out with fabulous matter.\n\nThe Acts of S. Agnes are in this condition, although not so grossly\nmeddled with as some others have been. That she was a real martyr, and\nthat the broad outlines of her story are true, there can be no doubt.\n\nThe martyrdom took place during the reign of Diocletian.\n\nIn 304 he was in Italy. He had come to Rome the preceding year to\ncelebrate the twentieth year of the reign of his colleague, Maximian,\nand at the same time the triumph over the Persians. He left Rome in ill\nhumour at the independence of the citizens, after having been accustomed\nto the servility of the Easterns; the day was December 20th, and he went\nto Ravenna. The weather was cold and wet, and he was chilled, so that he\nsuffered all the rest of the winter, and became irritable as his health\nfailed. However, he went back to Rome; and at this time several\nmartyrdoms ensued, as that of S. Soteris, a virgin of the noble family\nfrom which sprang S. Ambrose, also the boy Pancras, and S. Sebastian.\nBut the most notable was Agnes.\n\nShe was aged only thirteen, and was the daughter of noble and wealthy\nparents, who were, as already said, Christians.\n\nHer riches and beauty induced the son of a former prefect to seek her\nhand in marriage. Agnes, however, refused. She had no desire to become a\nwife; at all events, at so early an age; and, moreover, she would on no\naccount be united to a pagan. \u201cI am already engaged to One,\u201d she said:\n\u201cto Him I shall ever keep my troth.\u201d\n\nNot understanding what she meant, he inquired further; and she is\nreported to have replied in an allegorical strain: \u201cHe has already bound\nme to Him by His betrothal ring, and has adorned me with precious\njewels. He has placed a sign upon my brow that I should love none as I\nlove Him. He has revealed unto me treasures incomparable, which He has\npromised to give me if I persevere. Honey and milk has He bestowed on me\nby His words. I have partaken of His body, and with His blood has He\nadorned my cheeks.\u201d\n\nIt must not, however, be supposed that this was actually what she said.\nThere was then no scribe present to take the sentences down; they are\nwords put into her mouth at a later period by a romance writer.\n\nThe young man was incensed, and complained to her father, who would in\nno way force his daughter\u2019s inclinations. The youth, unquestionably, did\nnot understand her, and supposed that she had already given her heart to\nsome earthly lover.\n\nPresently it all came out. Agnes was a Christian, and, as a Christian,\nwould not listen to his suit.\n\nThen, in a rage, the young man rushed off and denounced her to the\nprefect, who sent immediately for her parents, and threatened them. They\nwere weak in the faith; and, returning home trembling, urged their\ndaughter to accept the youth. She, however, steadfastly refused.\n\nThere was now nothing for it but for her to appear before the Prefect of\nRome. She stood before his tribunal with calmness and confidence.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said he, \u201cbe not headstrong: you are only a child, remember,\nthough forward for your age.\u201d\n\n\u201cI may be a child,\u201d replied Agnes; \u201cbut faith does not depend on years,\nbut on the heart.\u201d\n\nThe prefect presently lost his temper, and declared roundly: \u201cI will\ntell you what shall be done with you; you shall be stripped and driven\nnaked forth to the jeers and insults of the rabble.\u201d\n\nThen the clothes were taken off the slender body of the girl. Thereupon\nshe loosened the band that confined her abundant golden hair, and it\nfell in waves over her body and covered her to the knees.\n\n\u201cYou may expose me to insult,\u201d said she; \u201cbut I have the angel of God as\nmy defence. For the only-begotten Son of God, whom you know not, will be\nto me an impenetrable wall and a guardian; never sleeping, and an\nunflagging protector.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet her be bound,\u201d ordered the judge, sullenly.\n\nThen the executioner turned over a quantity of manacles, and selected\nthe smallest pair he could find, and placed them round her wrists.\n\nAgnes, with a smile, shook her hands, and they fell clanking at her\nfeet.\n\nThe prefect then ordered her to death by the sword.\n\nThe Roman tradition is that she suffered where is now her church, by the\nPiazza Navona; but executions were never carried out within the walls of\nRome. She was taken to the place where she was to die. Here she knelt,\nand with her own hands drew forward her hair, so as to expose her neck\nto the blow. A pause ensued; the executioner was trembling with emotion,\nand could not brandish his sword.\n\nThe interpolated Acts say that before this an angel had brought her a\nwhite robe, which she put over her. What is probable is that the\nmagistrate, ashamed of what he had done, suffered one of those angels of\nmercy, the deaconesses, to reclothe the girl.\n\nAs the child knelt in her white robe, with her head inclined, her arms\ncrossed on her breast, and her golden hair hanging to the ground, she\nmust have looked like a beautiful lily, stooping under its weight of\nblossom.\n\n\u201cAnd thus, bathed in her rosy blood,\u201d says the author of the Acts,\n\u201cChrist took to Himself His bride and martyr.\u201d\n\nHer parents received the body, and carried it to the cemetery they had\nin their vineyard on the Nomentian Way, and there laid it in a\n_loculus_, a recess cut in the side of one of the passages underground.\nIt was probably just under one of the _luminaria_, or openings to the\nupper air, which allowed light to enter the Catacombs; for here, two\ndays later, Emerentiana, a catechumen, the foster-sister of Agnes, was\nfound kneeling by her grave; and the pagan rabble, peering in and seeing\nher, pelted her with stones, stunned, and then buried her under the\nearth and sand they threw in.\n\nConstantine the Great built the church over the tomb, removing the upper\ncrust; but it was rebuilt by Honorius I., between 625 and 638. It was\naltered in 1490 by Innocent VIII.; but retains more of the ancient\ncharacter than most of the Roman churches.\n\nThe day on which Agnes suffered was January 21st. The memory of her has\nnever faded from the Church. It is said that her parents dreamed, seven\ndays after her death, that they saw her in light, surrounded by a Virgin\nband, and with a white lamb at her side. In commemoration of this\ndream\u2014which not improbably did take place\u2014the Roman Church observes in\nher honour the 28th of January as well as the actual day of her death.\n\nSo ancient is the cult of S. Agnes, that, next to the Evangelists and\nApostles, no saint\u2019s effigy is older. It appears on the ancient glass\nvessels used by the Christians in the early part of the century in which\nshe died, with her name inscribed, which leaves no doubt as to her\nidentity.\n\nMrs. Jameson says of the Church of S. Agnese, in Rome: \u201cOften have I\nseen the steps of this church, and the church itself, so crowded with\nkneeling worshippers at Matins and Vespers, that I could not make my way\namong them; principally the women of the lower orders, with their\ndistaffs and market baskets, who had come thither to pray, through the\nintercession of the patron saint, for the gifts of meekness and\nchastity.\u201d\n\nIn the corrupted Acts, it is told that Agnes was set on a pyre to be\nburned to death, but that the fire was miraculously extinguished. This\nis purely apocryphal. It originates in a passage by S. Ambrose, in which\nhe speaks of her hands having been stretched over the fire on a pagan\naltar, to force her to do sacrifice. This has been magnified into an\nimmense pyre.\n\n\u201cAt this age,\u201d said he, \u201ca young girl trembles at an angry look from her\nmother; the prick of a needle draws tears. Yet, fearless under the\nbloody hands of her executioners, Agnes is immovable under the heavy\nchains which weigh her down; ignorant of death, but ready to die, she\npresents her body to the edge of the sword. Dragged against her will to\nthe altar, she holds forth her arms to Christ through the fires of the\nsacrifice; and her hand forms, even in those flames, the sign which is\nthe trophy of a victorious Saviour. She presents her neck and her two\nhands to the fetters which they produce for her; but it is impossible to\nfind any small enough to encircle her delicate limbs.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: FEBRONIA OF SIBAPTE.]\n\n\n\n\n                                   IV\n\n                         _FEBRONIA OF SIBAPTE_\n\n\nThe Church had endured a long period of peace after the persecution of\nDecius, in 250; and in the half-century that had followed, although\nthere had been recrudescences of persecution, it had been spasmodic and\nlocal.\n\nDuring those fifty years the Church had made great way. Conversions had\nbeen numerous, persons in high station suffered not only their slaves,\nbut their wives and children, to profess themselves Christians. Places\nabout the court, even in the imperial household, were filled with\nChristians; and even some were appointed to be governors of provinces,\nwith exemption from being obliged to assist at the usual sacrifices. The\nChristians built churches of their own, and these not by any means small\nand such as might escape observation.\n\nBut, internally, there had been a great development of her own powers in\nthe Church, such as had not been possible when she was proscribed, and\ncould only exercise her vital functions in secret.\n\nAnd among one of the most remarkable and significant phenomena of this\nvigorous expansion of life was the initiation of monastic life. In Syria\nand in Egypt there had for long been something of the kind, but not\nconnected with Christianity.\n\nIn Palestine were the Essenes. They numbered about four thousand; they\nlived in convents, and led a strange life. Five writers of antiquity\nspeak of them\u2014Josephus, Philo, Pliny the Elder, Epiphanius and\nHippolytus. They were a Jewish sect, a revolt against Pharisaism, and a\nsurvival of the schools of the prophets.\n\nOf fervent and exalted piety, of ardent conviction impatient of the\npuerilities and the bondage of Rabbinism, they sought to live to God in\nmeditation and prayer and study.\n\nThey built for themselves great houses on the eastern shore of the Dead\nSea, which they occupied. They observed the law of Moses with great\nliteralness; they had all things in common; they fasted, prayed, and saw\nvisions. They did not marry, they abstained from wine, they tilled the\nsoil when not engaged in prayer. They were, in a word, monks, but Jewish\nmonks.\n\nWhen Christianity spread, it entered into and gave a new spirit to these\ncommunities without their changing form.\n\nIn Egypt, in like manner were the Theraput\u00e6, not Jews, nor confined to\nEgypt, but most numerous there. They were conspicuous for their habits\nof great austerity and self-mortification. They left their homes, gave\nup their substance, fled towns and lived in solitary places, in little\nhabitations or cells apart yet not distant from one another. Each had\nhis little oratory for prayer and praise. They neither ate nor drank\ntill the sun set. Some ate only once in three days, and then only bread,\nflavoured with salt and hyssop. They prayed twice a day, and between the\ntimes of prayer read, meditated or worked. Men and women belonged to the\norder, but lived separately though sometimes praying in common.\n\nHere again we see the shell into which the new life entered, without\nreally changing or greatly modifying the external character.\n\nDoubtless the teaching of the Gospel reached these societies, was\naccepted, and gradually gave to them a Christian complexion\u2014that was\nall.\n\nWhether this sort of life was in accordance with the Gospel, was not\ndoubted by them, having before them the example of Christ who retreated\ninto the wilderness for forty days, and His words exhorting to the\nrenunciation of everything that men hold dear, and the recommendation to\nsell everything, give to the poor, and follow in His footsteps.\n\nIt is significant that it was precisely in Palestine where the Essenes\nhad flourished, and in Egypt that the Therapeut\u00e6 had maintained such\nnumerous colonies that we find the most vigorous development of\nmonachism. It is not possible to doubt that the one slid into the other\nimperceptibly.\n\nThe persecution of Diocletian broke out in 304. At that time there was\nat Sibapte, in Syria, a convent of fifty virgins.\n\nOne of these, named Febronia, aged eighteen, was the niece of the\nabbess, Bryene. She was wondrously fair of face and graceful of form,\nand the old sisters seem to have regarded her with reverence as well as\nlove, because of her marvellous loveliness of body as well as innocence\nof soul. Apparently when quite young she had lost her parents, and had\nbeen taken by her aunt into the convent in earliest infancy, so that she\nhad grown up among the sisters, as a sweet flower, utterly ignorant of\nthe world.\n\nShe had studied Scripture so deeply, and was so spiritual in mind, that\nmany ladies living in the cities of Syria came to visit and consult her.\nBryene drew a curtain between her niece and those who visited her, so as\nnot to distract her thoughts, as also not to expose her to the gaze of\nvulgar curiosity.\n\nOne day a young heathen woman came to the monastery in the first grief\nat the loss of her husband, to whom she had been married but seven\nmonths. She had found no comfort in the religion of her parents, who\ncould not assure her that the soul had any life after death; it was no\ntrue consolation to her to set up a monument in honour of the deceased,\nand so, hearing of Febronia, she came to Bryene, and falling at her\nfeet, entreated to be allowed to tell her trouble to the girl Febronia.\n\nThe abbess hesitated, as the woman was a pagan; but at length, moved by\nher tears and persistency, gave consent, admitted her into the cell of\nthe nun, and allowed her to tarry with her as long as she pleased.\n\nThey passed the night together. Febronia opened the Gospel and read to\nthe broken-hearted woman the words of life. They fell on good ground.\nThe widow wept and listened, and wept again, and as the sun rose on\nthem, she begged to be properly instructed, so as to receive baptism.\n\nWhen she was gone, \u201cWho,\u201d asked Febronia, \u201cwas that strange woman who\ncame to me, and who cried as though her heart would break when I read\nthe Scriptures to her?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was Hiera,\u201d answered the nun Thomais, who afterwards committed the\nwhole narrative to writing. \u201cHiera is the widow of a senator.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d said Febronia, \u201cwhy did you not inform me of her rank? I have been\ntalking to her just as if she had been my sister.\u201d\n\nThe noble widow did become the sister of the nun in the faith, and in\nthe family of Christ; and when, some time after, Febronia fell very ill,\nHiera insisted on being allowed to be with her and nurse her with her\nown hands.\n\nFebronia was but convalescent, and looking white as a lily, when\nSelenus, charged with the execution of the imperial decree against\nChristians, arrived at Sibapte. He was accompanied by his nephews\nLysimachus and Primus, the former of whom was suspected by Diocletian of\nhaving a leaning towards Christianity, as his mother had been of the\nhousehold of faith, and he was a youth of a singularly meditative and\ntemperate life.\n\nSelenus accordingly brought his nephews with him, to associate them with\nhimself in the deeds of cruelty that were meditated, and to awe them\ninto dread of transgressing the will and command of the emperor.\n\nPrimus was a cousin on his mother\u2019s side to Lysimachus, and he shared\nwith him disgust at the cruelty of their uncle, and they did what was in\ntheir power\u2014they sent timely warning to the Christians to escape from a\ncity that was about to be visited.\n\nAs soon as the bishop and clergy of Sibapte heard that the governor\npurposed coming to the place, they dispersed and secreted themselves.\nThe sisters of the convent in great agitation waited on the abbess, and\nentreated her to allow them to escape for their lives.\n\nBryene bade them entertain no alarm, as the danger only threatened, and\nwas not at their doors: such humble, insignificant folk as they might\nexpect to be overlooked. At the same time she was really distracted with\nanxiety, as Febronia was not strong enough to be removed, and she could\nnot leave her.\n\nThe sisters took counsel together, and electing one named Aetheria as\ntheir spokeswoman, made a second remonstrance, and complained, \u201cWe know\nwhat is your real reason for retaining us: it is that you are solicitous\nabout Febronia; but the bishop and clergy are in hiding. Do try to carry\nFebronia away, and suffer us to leave.\u201d\n\nFebronia, however, could not be moved, so Bryene dismissed the nuns, and\nthey decamped forthwith; two alone remained\u2014Thomais, the writer of the\nhistory, and Procla, who acted as nurse to the sick girl, and who could\nnot find the heart to tear herself away.\n\nAlmost immediately after the sisters had fled, news reached those who\nremained that the governor had arrived. Febronia heard her aunt sobbing.\nShe looked at Thomais, and asked, \u201cI pray you, dear mother, what is the\ngreat mistress\u201d (for this was the title of the abbess) \u201ccrying so\nbitterly about?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy child,\u201d answered the old nun, \u201cshe is sore at heart about you. We\nare old and ugly, and all that can chance to us is death; but you are\nyoung and fair, and there are things we fear for you of which you know\nnothing. We need not say more to you, dearest child, than bid you be\nvery cautious how you accept any offers made to you by the governor,\nhowever innocent they may appear. A danger lurks behind them of which\nyou have no conception.\u201d\n\nThe night passed in anxious conversation and in mutual encouragement.\nNext morning Selenus sent soldiers to the convent, who broke open the\ndoor, and would have cut down Bryene, had not Febronia started from her\npallet, and casting herself at their feet, implored them to kill her\nrather than her old aunt.\n\nPrimus arrived at this juncture, rebuked the soldiers for their\nviolence, and bade them go outside the house. Then, turning to Bryene,\nhe asked somewhat impatiently why she had not taken advantage of the\nwarning that had been sent, and escaped.\n\n\u201cEven now,\u201d said he, \u201cI will make shift to help you. I will withdraw the\nsoldiers, and do you escape by the back of the house.\u201d\n\nPrimus then withdrew, and it is possible that the three nuns and\nFebronia might have escaped, but that Selenus, suspicious of his nephew,\nsent back the soldiers with peremptory orders to secure Febronia and\nbring her before him. This was done, and she and the rest were thrown\nfor the night into the common prison.\n\nNext day Selenus ascended the tribunal, and was accompanied by his\nnephews Primus and Lysimachus, whom he forced to attend.\n\nBryene and Thomais appeared, each holding a hand of the sick girl and\nsustaining her. They begged to be tried and condemned with her.\n\n\u201cThey are a pair of old hags,\u201d said Selenus. \u201cDismiss them.\u201d\n\nThen they were separated from their charge.\n\n\u201cMother,\u201d said Febronia, clinging to and kissing Bryene, \u201cI trust in God\nthat, as I have been ever obedient to thee in the monastery, so I may be\nfaithful to what thou hast exhorted me to do, faithful here openly\nbefore all the people. Go then\u2014do not stay here, but pray for me, but\nbefore leaving give me thy benediction.\u201d\n\nThen she slid to her knees, and Bryene, stretching her hands to heaven,\ncried: \u201cLord Jesus Christ, who didst appear to Thy handmaid Thecla, in\nher agony, to comfort her, stand by Thy lowly one in her great contest.\u201d\n\nSo saying, she fell on the neck of Febronia, and they kissed and wept\nand clung to each other till parted by the soldiers.\n\nThen, unable to bear the sight of what she knew must follow, Bryene\nretired to the deserted convent, and begged that word might be sent her\nas to how all ended.\n\nIn the meantime, Hiera had heard of the arrest of Febronia, and wild\nwith grief she rushed to the place of judgment. She found the court\ncrammed with people, mostly women, agitated, indignant, and murmuring.\nThere was a space clear before the tribunal, where stood the accused,\nand at one side were various instruments of torture, and a stake driven\ninto the ground furnished with rings and ropes. On the judgment seat\nwere Selenus, with his nephews by him.\n\nSelenus turned to Lysimachus, and said, \u201cDo you open the examination.\u201d\n\nThe young man, struggling with his emotion, began\u2014\u201cTell me, young\nmaiden, what is thy condition?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a servant,\u201d answered Febronia.\n\n\u201cWhose servant?\u201d asked Lysimachus.\n\n\u201cI am the servant of Christ.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd tell me thy name, I pray thee.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a humble Christian,\u201d answered Febronia.\n\n\u201cMay I ask thy name, maiden?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe good mother always calls me Febronia.\u201d\n\nThen Selenus broke in: \u201cWe shall never have done if you push along in\nthis fashion. To the point at once. Febronia, I vow by the gods that I\nhave no desire to hurt thee. Here is a gallant young gentleman, my\nnephew; take him as thy husband, and forget the silly stuff, thy\nreligion. I had other views for the boy, but that matters not; never\nhave I seen a sweeter face than thine, and I am content to accept thee\nas my niece. I am a man of few words: accept my offer, and all is well;\nor by the living gods I will make thee rue the refusal.\u201d\n\nFebronia replied calmly, \u201cI have a heavenly Bridegroom, eternal; with\ncelestial glory as His dower.\u201d\n\nSelenus burst forth with, \u201cSoldiers, strip the wench.\u201d He was obeyed;\nthey allowed her to wear only a tattered cloak over her shoulders.\n\nCalm, without a sign of being discomposed, Febronia bore the outrage.\n\n\u201cHow now, you impudent hussy?\u201d scoffed Selenus; \u201cwhere is your maiden\nmodesty? I saw no struggles, no blushes.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod Almighty knows, judge, that till this day I have never seen the\nface of man, for I was only two years old when I was taken as a little\nbaby to my aunt, and the rest of my life I have spent there among the\ngood sisters. Do I seem lost to shame? Nay, I have been assured that\nwrestlers strip in the games when they strive for victory. I fear thee\nnot.\u201d\n\n\u201cStretch her, face downwards, over a slow fire. Bind her hands and feet\nto four stakes, and so\u2014scourge her.\u201d\n\nHe was obeyed, and the crimson blood trickled over her white skin at\nevery stroke of the lash, and hissed in the glowing charcoal.\n\nThe multitude, looking on, could not bear the sight, and with one voice\nentreated that she might be removed and dismissed.\n\nBut the shouts only made Selenus more angry, and he ordered the\nexecutioners to redouble the blows. Thomais, unable to endure the sight,\nfainted at the feet of Hiera, who uttered a cry of \u201cOh, Febronia, my\nsister! Thomais is dying.\u201d\n\nThe poor sufferer turned her head, and asked the executioner to throw\nwater over the face of the fainting woman, and begged to be allowed to\nsay a word to Hiera.\n\nBut the judge interposed to forbid this indulgence, and ordered Febronia\nto be untied and placed on the rack.\n\nThis was sometimes called \u201cthe little horse.\u201d It had four legs united by\nplanks. At each end was a crank. The sufferer was attached by the feet\nand hands at ankles and wrists to cords that passed over rollers between\nthe planks. She thus hung below and between the two pieces of wood. At a\nsignal from the magistrate, the executioners turned the cranks, and\nthese drew the feet and hands tighter towards the rollers, and strained\nthem, so that if this were persisted in, the limbs were pulled out of\njoint.\n\n\u201cWell, girl,\u201d asked Selenus, \u201chow do you like your first taste of\ntorture?\u201d\n\n\u201cLearn from the manner in which I have borne it, that my resolution is\nunalterable,\u201d answered Febronia.\n\nOn the rack her sides were torn with iron combs. She prayed incessantly:\n\u201cO Lord, make haste to help me. Leave me not, neither forsake me in my\nhour of pain!\u201d\n\n\u201cCut out her tongue,\u201d ordered the judge.\n\nFebronia was detached from the rack and tied to the post in the centre\nof the place. But when the multitude saw what the executioner was about\nto do, the excitement and indignation became so menacing, that the judge\nthought it prudent to countermand the order. Instead of which, however,\nhe bade the surgeon in attendance extract her teeth. When he had drawn\nseventeen, Selenus bade him desist.\n\n\u201cCut off her breasts.\u201d\n\nThis atrocious order caused a renewed uproar. The physician hesitated.\nBut Selenus was fairly roused. \u201cCoward, go on! Cut!\u201d he shouted, and the\nsurgeon, with a sweep of the razor, sliced off her right breast.\n\nFebronia uttered a cry as she felt the steel gash her: \u201cMy Lord! my God!\nsee what I suffer, and receive my soul into Thy hands.\u201d\n\nThese were the last words she spoke.\n\n\u201cCut off the other breast, and put fire to the wound,\u201d said Selenus.\n\nHe was obeyed. The mob swayed and quivered with indignation; women wept\nand fainted. Then with a roar broke forth the execration, \u201cCursed be\nDiocletian and all his gods!\u201d\n\nThereupon Hiera sent a girl running to the convent to Bryene to tell her\nall. And the old abbess flung herself on the ground sobbing, \u201cBra, bra,\nbra! Febronia, my child!\u201d Then raising her arms and straining her eyes\nto heaven, she cried, \u201cLord, regard Thy humble handmaiden, Febronia, and\nmay my aged eyes see the battle fought out, and my dear child numbered\nwith the martyrs.\u201d\n\nIn the meantime Selenus had ordered the cords to be removed which bound\nFebronia to the stake. Then she dropped in a heap on the sand, her long\nhair flowing over and clothing her mangled body.\n\nPrimus said under his breath to his cousin, \u201cThe poor girl is dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe died to bring light and conviction to many hearts\u2014perhaps to mine,\u201d\nanswered Lysimachus aloud, that his uncle might hear. \u201cWould that it had\nbeen in my power to have saved her! Now let her finish her conflict and\nenter into her rest.\u201d\n\nThen Hiera, bursting into the arena, stood wild with indignation and\nanguish before the judge, and shrieked, as she shook her hands at\nhim,\u2014\u201cO monster of cruelty! shame on thee, shame! Thou, born of a woman,\nhast forgotten the obligation to honour womanhood, and hast insulted and\noutraged thy mother in the person of this poor girl. God, the Judge\nabove judges, will make a swift work with thee, and cut it short, and\nroot thee out of the land of the living.\u201d\n\nSelenus, stung with these words, exasperated at the resentment of the\nmob, and finding that he had fairly roused his nephews into defiance of\nhis authority, shouted his orders to have the widow put on the rack.\n\nBut at this point some of the town authorities interfered, and warned\nthe judge that he was proceeding to dangerous lengths. Hiera was well\nconnected, popular; and if she were tortured, a riot was certain to\nensue. \u201cHalf the town will rush here and insist on being tried and\ntortured. They will all confess Christ.\u201d\n\nSelenus reluctantly gave orders for the release of Hiera, and directed\nthe current of his rage on Febronia, now unconscious. He ordered first\nher hands, then her feet, and finally her head to be struck off; and\nwhen all was finished, rose from his seat, turned to Lysimachus, and saw\nthat his face was bathed in tears. He hastily withdrew to supper, angry\nwith himself, his nephews, and the mob.\n\nLysimachus and Primus descended to the arena, and standing by the\nmutilated body, vowed to renounce the gods of Diocletian and to worship\nthe God of Febronia. Then the young men gave orders for the removal of\nthe mangled remains to the house of Bryene.\n\nAlmost the whole city crowded to see the body of the young girl who had\nsuffered so heroically.\n\nThat night Lysimachus could not eat or speak at supper, and Selenus\nforced himself to riotous mirth and drunk hard.\n\nWe cannot quite trust what follows. It was too tempting to a copyist to\nallow the governor to go away unchastised. Perhaps it is true that in a\ndrunken and angry fit Selenus, pacing the room storming, slipped on the\npolished pavement, and in falling hit his head against a pillar\u2014with the\nresult that he never spoke again, having congestion of the brain, and\ndied next day. It is quite possible that this may be true. If it were an\ninterpolation by a copyist, he would have killed him by fire falling\nfrom heaven and consuming him\u2014that was the approved way with the\nre-writers of the Acts of Martyrs.\n\nWhen Constantine became Emperor both the young men were baptised,\nretired into solitude and embraced the monastic life.\n\nThe name of Febronia is in the Greek, Coptic and Abyssinian Kalendars.\nThe simple and apparently quite trustworthy account of her death was by\nThomais, the nun who saw her die, and had known her all her short life.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE DAUGHTER OF CONSTANTINE.]\n\n\n\n\n                                   V\n\n                     _THE DAUGHTER OF CONSTANTINE_\n\n\nConstantia, whose name does not appear in the Roman Kalendar, but which\nhas found its way into several unauthorised lists of the Saints, is\nchiefly known through the Acts of S. Agnes. Little or nothing reliable\nis recorded concerning her, and her story would not have been included\nin this collection, were it not for two circumstances\u2014one, that two of\nthe most interesting monuments of Old Rome are associated with her name,\none directly, the other indirectly; and next, that a caution, very\ndesirable of being exercised, may be learned from a consideration of her\nstory\u2014not to cast over as utterly fabulous and worthless the legends\nthat come down to us of the Saints of early times, because they are\nstuffed with unhistorical and ridiculous incidents and marvels. Let us\nnow see very briefly what the _legend_ is concerning Constantia.\n\nShe was the daughter of Constantine the Great, and was afflicted with a\ndistressing disease, supposed at the time to be leprosy, but which was\nin all probability scrofula.\n\nThe Roman general, Gallicanus, having been in favour with the Emperor,\nand having lost his wife, was offered Constantia in marriage by his\nmaster\u2014not a particularly inviting proposal, and Gallicanus did not,\npossibly, regret that he was called away by an inroad of the barbarians\ninto Thrace, to defend the Roman frontiers against them. Before engaging\nin battle he made a vow, in the event of success, that he would believe\nin Christ and be baptised. He succeeded in repulsing the enemy, and\nreturned to Rome to find that Constantia had been healed of her disorder\nat the tomb of S. Agnes, and that she had persuaded his three daughters,\nAugusta, Attica, and Artemia, to live with her, as consecrated virgins,\nnear the shrine of the Virgin Martyr, to whose intercession she\nattributed her cure.\n\nConstantia had two chamberlains, John and Paul, to whom, at her death,\nshe bequeathed much of her possessions.\n\nWhen Julian the Apostate assumed the purple, in 361, he did not openly\npersecute the Church, but he turned out of their situations such\nofficers of the court and army as refused to renounce Christ. John and\nPaul he particularly disliked, partly because they were zealous\nChristians, and had had much to do with the conversion of Gallicanus,\nbut also because they had obtained by bequest so much of Constantia\u2019s\nestate, which he desired to draw into the imperial treasury. He sent\nword that they were to be deprived of their offices, and were to be\nprivately put to death in their own house.\n\nAccordingly, when they had retired to their residence on the C\u0153lian\nHill, the ministers of Julian pursued them, dismissed the servants, and\nsecretly conveyed them down into the cellar of their palace, and there\nkilled and buried them.\n\nThree persons, however, knew of what was going on\u2014Crispinus,\nCrispinianus, and Benedicta\u2014and, to prevent the matter getting bruited\nabout, these the soldiers also put to death.\n\nGallicanus was living at Ostia, and he was ordered into exile. He\nwithdrew to Alexandria, where the chief magistrate, Baucianus, summoned\nhim before his tribunal, required him to do sacrifice to idols, and,\nbecause he refused, had him decapitated. He has found a place in the\nRoman Martyrology on June 25th.\n\nNow the whole series of incidents is full of difficulties. The name of\nGallicanus was not uncommon. Vulcatius Gallicanus was prefect of Rome in\n317, and Ovius Gallicanus was Consul in 330, but of either of them being\nengaged against the barbarians in Thrace there is no historical\nevidence.\n\nIt is also incredible that the Gallicanus of the legend should have been\npublicly tried as a Christian and condemned as such under Julian.\n\nThe Emperor Constantine had a daughter, Constantia, we know from profane\nhistory, who was married to Hannibalianus\u2014a thoroughly unprincipled\nwoman, in fact, if we may trust the highly coloured picture drawn of her\nby Ammianus Marcellinus. She was a demon in human form, a female fury\never thirsting for blood. But though generally called Constantia, her\ncorrect name was Flavia Julia Constantina.\n\nOf the Constantia of the legend there is no mention by the historical\nwriters of the time; but this is not remarkable if she were, as is\nrepresented in the story, a woman who took no part in public life, but\nlived in retirement, partly because of her disorder, and then because\nshe had embraced the religious life.\n\nA further difficulty arises in the account of the martyrdom of SS. John\nand Paul, her chamberlains. The Acts represent them as subjected to\ninterrogation by Julian himself in Rome, whereas it is quite certain\nthat after he became Emperor he did not set foot in Italy.\n\nIt will be seen, therefore, that there is here every reason for\nrepudiating the whole story as fabulous, and some would go so far as to\nsay that Constantia, the virgin daughter of Constantine, Gallicanus,\nJohn and Paul were all of them mythical characters, creatures of the\nimagination. But there are certain very good and weighty reasons on the\nother side for inducing an arrest of judgment.\n\nIn the first place, close to the basilica and catacomb of S. Agnese is a\nvery interesting and precious circular church, erected by Constantine\nthe Great, at the request of his daughter Constantia, as a thankoffering\nfor her recovery from the distressing disease which had disfigured her\nand made life a burden to her. This church is, perhaps, the most\nremarkable specimen we have existing of ecclesiastical architecture of\nthe age of Constantine. It is quite untouched, and is rich with frescoes\nof the period.\n\nBut a still more remarkable monument is one quite recently disinterred.\nIt is the house of the martyrs John and Paul, which has existed for\ncenturies buried under the foundations of the great church that bears\ntheir names on the C\u0153lian Hill, a church erected by the one English\nPope, Nicolas Breakespeare, in 1158. The discovery of the house is\nitself a romance. What is known of its early history is this: Julian the\nApostate died in 363. The death of John and Paul had taken place in 362.\nJulian was followed by Jovian, who died in 364, and was succeeded by\nValentinian.\n\nNow, directly Julian was no more, Byzantius, a senator and a Christian,\ninterested himself in the matter. The recent martyrdom was in all\nmouths, and it was known that the bodies lay in the cellar of the house.\nByzantius had the bodies lifted and placed in a white alabaster or\nmarble box, and converted the upper storey of the house into an oratory.\n\nThe son of Byzantius was Pammachius, the friend and correspondent of S.\nJerome. He did something also. He erected a handsome church over the\ntomb of the saints, and this was completed in 410, forty-eight years\nafter their martyrdom.\n\nThere had, however, been no break in the tradition, for Byzantius had\nmade his oratory only two or three years later than their martyrdom.\n\nThe basilica erected by Pammachius consisted of an oblong nave, with\nside aisles and an apse to the west. To the east end was a quadrangle,\nsurrounded by a cloister, and with a water-tank in the middle. By means\nof a flight of steps visitors were enabled to descend to the\n\u201cConfession,\u201d or place whence they could look down on the alabaster box\ncontaining the relics of the martyrs in the cellar; and in the angles of\nthe wall below, a triangular white marble table was placed, hollowed out\nin the middle for oil, in which a wick burned to throw light on the\ntomb.\n\nHard by, in later years, was the family mansion of S. Gregory the Great,\nwho sent Augustine and his little band, in 597, to convert the\nAnglo-Saxons of Kent. Now, Gregory knew well this church of SS. John and\nPaul, and often prayed there. Somewhere about 603 he sent a present to\nQueen Theodelinda, the Bavarian Princess, who had married Agilulph, the\nLombard, and among other things some of the oil from this very lamp.\nThis identical vial of oil is preserved among the treasures of Monza,\nalong with some little gold hens and chickens presented by Theodelinda.\n\nNow, a few years ago, Padre Germano, a Passionist father of the\nmonastery attached to the church, in studying the blank south wall of\nthe church that rises out of the little lane, the Clivus Scauri, by\nwhich one mounts to reach the entrance of the church, observed that it\nconsisted of a whole series of blocked-up arches and windows above them.\nIn a word, it looked like a three-storey shop-front, or factory of\nbrick, with the openings filled in. What could be the meaning of this?\nSuch an arrangement was not suitable to the basilica of Pammachius, and\nhad certainly no significance for the Church of Adrian I.\n\nThen, all at once, it flashed on him what it really was: it was nothing\nmore nor less than the street-front of the palace of John and Paul,\nwhich had been solidly built, and consequently had been utilised first\nby Pammachius and then by Adrian I. Now the church is built at the top\nof a steep slope, and the level of the floor of the church is far above\nthe arches. It next occurred to the Padre: Is it not possible that the\nold house of the martyrs may be beneath the floor of this church?\n\nHe obtained leave to search. He went round to persons interested in\nChristian antiquities, and begged a little money, and so was enabled to\nbegin his excavations; and, lo! he discovered that when in 410\nPammachius had built his basilica he had filled in the lower portion of\nthe house, all the most important rooms and the cellars, with earth and\nrubbish, and had raised his church above it all, knocking away the\nfloors of the upper storeys and blocking up what had been the bedroom\nwindows. The writer of this account was in Rome during two winters when\nthe Padre was engaged on the excavations, and was frequently there, and\nsaw the results as they were reached. And these results were: first,\nthat a Christian mansion of the fourth century was disinterred, the only\none of the kind known to exist; and more, the tomb of the saints into\nwhich Byzantius had put the bodies was found; also the very lamp-table\nfrom which S. Gregory took the oil for sending to Theodelinda, and the\nearly altar set up by Byzantius in one of the halls of the house which\nhe had converted into an oratory. Nay, more,\u2014paintings were found,\nwhether of the date of Byzantius or of his son Pammachius is\nuncertain\u2014one representing the soldiers killing Crispinus, Crispinianus,\nand Benedicta, and another showing Constantia, with her two chamberlains\nand other attendants. There were also figures which may be Byzantius and\nhis wife, or Pammachius and his, bringing gifts to the tomb of the\nmartyrs. The cellar was discovered with the old wine-bottles, some\nmarked with the sacred sign; and the frescoes in the reception-room were\nChristian: a woman lifting up holy hands in prayer; Moses, with the roll\nof the Law; the good sheep and the bad one, with the Milk of the Word,\nand so on.\n\nNow, all this shows conclusively that there really were such martyrs as\nJohn and Paul, and that although their story has been embroidered, there\nis a substratum of truth in it.\n\nWhat is probably the basis of the whole story is this: that Constantia,\nan infirm, scrofulous daughter of Constantine, residing in Rome,\nbelieving herself to have received some alleviation in her condition by\npraying at the tomb of S. Agnes, not only induced her father to build a\nbasilica above that tomb, but also the remarkable Church of St.\nConstanza, which is hard by. That she had chamberlains named John and\nPaul, devout Christians, is also more than probable, as also that she\nbequeathed to them a large portion of her fortune. The fact of their\nbeing zealous Christians, and exerting themselves vigorously to advance\nthe Faith, that among other converts they made was Ovius Gallicanus, who\nhad been Consul in 330, is also probable. That they were secretly put to\ndeath in their own mansion on the C\u0153lian Hill, by the orders of Julian,\nand buried in their cellar, is quite certain. The chain of evidence is\nunbroken.\n\nThat Constantia had as her friends and fellows in her retired devout\nlife three of the daughters of the ex-Consul, is not at all unlikely.\nThat he was banished to Alexandria by Julian may be admitted. But this\nis the utmost. The recomposer of the Acts tried to spice the story to\nsuit the taste of his times, and in doing so fell into extravagances,\nanachronisms, and absurdities.\n\nConstantia may have felt grateful for the disorder that kept her out of\nthe current of public life, and from the intrigues of the palace.\n\nHer father, with all his good qualities, was a violent man; and his\nadoption of Christianity was due to political shrewdness rather than to\nconviction.\n\nIn 324 Crispus, her accomplished brother, whose virtues and glory had\nmade him a favourite with the people, was accused of conspiring against\nhis father by his stepmother Fausta, who desired to clear him out of the\nway to make room for her own son Constantius. Another involved in the\nsame charge was Licinius, a son of the sister of Constantine, and who\nwas also a young man of good qualities.\n\nConstantine was at Rome at the time. He went into a fit of blind fury,\nand had his son put to death, and ordered the execution of Licinius.\nThen, coming to his senses, and finding that he had acted without having\nany evidence of the truth of the charges, he turned round on his wife\nFausta, and ordered her to be suffocated in a vapour bath.\n\nConstantine died in 337.\n\n\u201cOne dark shadow from the great tragedy of his life reached to his last\nend, and beyond it,\u201d says Dean Stanley. \u201cIt is said that the Bishop of\nNicomedia, to whom the Emperor\u2019s will had been confided, alarmed at its\ncontents, immediately placed it for security in the dead man\u2019s hand,\nwrapped in the vestments of death. There it lay till Constantius\narrived, and read his father\u2019s dying bequest. It was believed to express\nthe Emperor\u2019s conviction that he had been poisoned by his brothers and\ntheir children, and to call on Constantius to avenge his death. That\nbequest was obeyed by the massacre of six out of the surviving princes\nof the imperial family. Two alone escaped. With such a mingling of light\nand darkness did Constantine close his career.\u201d[2]\n\nOne of Constantia\u2019s sisters, Constantina, has been already mentioned.\nHer second husband was Gallus. \u201cShe was an incarnate fury,\u201d says\nAmmianus Marcellinus; \u201cnever weary of inflaming the savage temper of her\nhusband. The pair, in process of time, becoming skilful in inflicting\nsuffering, hired a gang of crafty talebearers, who loaded the innocent\nwith false charges, accusing them of aiming at the royal power or of\npractising magic.\u201d Those accused were all put to death and their goods\nconfiscated. She died of fever in 353.\n\nAnother sister, Helena, was married to the Apostate Julian. Her brother,\nConstantius, although a Christian, was as ensanguined with murders as\none of the old C\u00e6sars. Her brothers Constans and Constantine II. fought\neach other, and Constantine was slain. Violence, bloodshed, stained the\nwhole family, except perhaps Helena and certainly the blameless\nConstantia. In the midst of such violence and crime, it was indeed\nsomething to disappear from the pages of the profane historian and to be\nremembered only as a builder of churches.\n\nThe rotunda near S. Agnese, that bears Constantia\u2019s name, was erected\nduring her life, to serve as her mausoleum, and in it she and her sister\nHelena were laid. She was laid in the beautiful sarcophagus of red\nporphyry that was in the church. This was carried off by Pope Paul II.,\nwho intended to convert it to his own use, and it is now preserved in\nthe Vatican.\n\nThe vaulting of the church is covered with mosaic arabesques of flowers\nand birds referring to a vintage.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE SISTER OF S. BASIL.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  VI.\n\n                        _THE SISTER OF S. BASIL_\n\n\nIt is most rare to be able to obtain a glimpse into the home-life of the\nancients. In the first centuries of our era, in the Greek and Roman\nworld, life was so much in public, that there was hardly any domestic\nlife at all; and it was only with Christianity that the quiet, retired\nand sweet home society constituted itself.\n\nIn the midst of flaunting paganism, the first believers were driven\nindoors, so to speak; they were precluded from much of the amusement\nthat went to fill up the time of the heathen. They could not sit on the\nbenches of the amphitheatre, nor attend at the representations of the\ntheatre. They were largely prevented from being present at banquets\ngiven by friends, as these began and ended with libations to the gods,\nand the benediction of the deities called down on the meats. They were\nprecluded from taking part in civil life, by the oaths and sacrifices\nassociated with every official act.\n\nThinking, feeling, believing differently from their fellow-citizens,\nthey could not associate with them easily abroad, and were consequently\ndriven to find their society in their own homes.\n\nPerhaps it is only in the writings of S. Basil and his brother S.\nGregory of Nyssa that we get anything like a look into the interior of a\nChristian household in the fourth century. It is therefore, although a\nquiet picture of an uneventful and unexciting existence, full of\ninterest and charm. S. Basil belonged to a family both noble and\nwealthy, in Cappadocia, in Asia Minor. His ancestors had occupied public\npositions either as magistrates or at the imperial court.\n\nHis grandmother, Macrina, a native of Neoc\u00e6sarea, in Pontus, had been\nbrought up by S. Gregory the wonder-worker; and she and her husband,\nwhose name is not recorded, were confessors in the persecution of\nDiocletian. They fled to the wooded mountain sides, leaving their houses\nand possessions; and in their places of retreat subsisted mainly on the\nwild deer, that were so tame that they allowed themselves to be easily\nsnared. They remained in concealment for seven years, and it was not\ntill an edict in favour of the Christians was promulgated, on April\n30th, 311, that they ventured to return to Neoc\u00e6sarea.\n\nMacrina died in Pontus about 340. Her son Basil inherited the piety of\nhis parents, and he took to wife \u00c6milia, a woman of great virtue, the\ndaughter of a man who had been put to death after having been deprived\nof his goods by the Emperor Licinius. She had lost her mother in early\nyouth.\n\nBasil and \u00c6milia were very wealthy. They owned extensive estates in\nPontus, Cappadocia and Lesser Armenia; they had a large family, ten\nchildren, of whom the eldest was Macrina, named after her grandmother;\nS. Basil was the eldest son, then came Naucratius, Gregory, afterwards\nof Nyssa, and Peter, the youngest, afterwards of Sebaste. We know no\nmore of the four younger girls than that they were well provided for in\nmarriage, and one of them had daughters who became superiors of a\nmonastery in C\u00e6sarea under the direction of their uncle, S. Basil.\n\nBasil the elder, the father, died about 349, shortly after the birth of\nPeter. \u00c6milia was now left a widow with a large family to look after,\nbut she was assisted in everything by her eldest daughter, Macrina, who\nwas her inseparable companion.\n\nWhen Macrina had been born she had been confided to a nurse, but it was\nremarked that she was almost always in her mother\u2019s arms. \u00c6milia took\npains to form the mind of the little girl, and give it a religious\ndirection. She taught her first of all sentences from the Book of\nWisdom, then made her commit sundry psalms to memory; so that, as her\nbrother Gregory wrote, the Psalter became to her a companion day and\nnight, and she was for ever singing psalms or reciting them in her\nheart.\n\nMacrina was a good and patient needlewoman. Not only was the house\nlarge, but the brothers and sisters needed attention, and their clothes\nkeeping in order, and \u00c6milia and her eldest daughter were constantly\nengaged at their needles, to keep pace with the demands of the family;\nand as they were always together, one mind was but the reflexion of the\nother.\n\nWhat tended to make Macrina a still, stay-at-home girl, was an early\nlove affair. She had been engaged by her father\u2019s consent to a\nhigh-principled, well-born young man, and the marriage was only deferred\nbecause of Macrina\u2019s youth. But before this took place he fell ill of\nfever and was carried off rapidly. After this Basil thought of uniting\nhis daughter to some other suitable person, but Macrina urgently\nentreated to be allowed to remain with her mother. \u201cMy dear husband,\u201d\nshe said, \u201cis not dead,\u2014he lives with God. He has gone on a far\njourney\u2014that is all, and I shall remain faithful to him whilst he is\naway.\u201d\n\nHer father did not press her\u2014indeed, the devotion of Macrina to her\nmother was so tender and so close that he thought neither could bear to\nbe parted. When he also died, then the union of hearts and interests\nbecame closer.\n\nAs the children grew up they dispersed, and received their several\ninheritances; but they all carried away with them indelibly the stamp\nimpressed on their hearts by their mother and eldest sister; and in the\nend three of them became bishops and saints. Peter, the youngest, had\nbeen most in their hands, but the favourite brother was Naucratius.\n\nAs soon as all the birds were out of the nest, then \u00c6milia felt that\nthere was nothing to retain her in the city, and she pined to be away\nfrom its dusty streets and noisy market in the green, sweet country, and\nin quiet with God.\n\nAccordingly she and Macrina retired to a villa they possessed on the\nbanks of the river Iris, at some little distance from the town of Ibora.\nThis they converted into a sort of monastery. The slaves and other\nservants, if they chose to unite in the same life, were given freedom\nand accepted on the footing of sisters, no distinction being made\nbetween the members of the little community.\n\nS. Gregory of Nyssa says of this society: \u201cThey were all as one in what\nthey ate and drank, as to their furniture and cells, and there was no\ntoken that they belonged originally to different ranks in the world.\nThere was no ruffle of temper among them, no petty jealousies, no\nsuspicions, no spite .... all their occupation was in prayer and the\nsinging of psalms, which went on night and day.\u201d\n\nPeter, the youngest, who had been ordained, lived near at hand, and for\nthe care he had received as a child returned his ministerial offices. S.\nBasil also for awhile lived in retirement not far off, and was a help\nand comfort to them.\n\nMacrina suffered about this time from a painful abscess in her breast,\nand \u00c6milia constantly urged her to let a doctor examine and lance it.\nShe was afraid lest, should it not be opened, it might break internally.\nBut Macrina was so modest and sensitive\u2014perhaps absurdly so\u2014that she\nshrank from the ordeal of letting a man treat the place. At last the old\nlady insisted; the abscess had become so hot and swollen that she was\nalarmed.\n\nMacrina, struggling against shame, went into the little oratory, and\nremained weeping and praying there all night, sometimes with her face\nagainst the ground and her tears running over the dust. The heat and\npain in her breast and the tension were so insupportable, that she\ngathered up some of the cool earth and pressed it to the swelling, when\nit burst, and she was relieved; and so the need for calling in a surgeon\nwas overpassed.\n\nAt length \u00c6milia died, at an advanced age. None of her children were\nwith her at the time except Macrina and Peter; however, as she was\ndying, the old and saintly woman murmured blessings on the absent\ndarlings, and taking Peter by one hand and Macrina by the other, said,\n\u201cLord, I offer to Thee my firstfruits and my tithe. Accept them, O Lord,\nand pour the floods of Thy grace into both their hearts.\u201d They were her\nlast words. She died in 373, and was laid beside her husband whom she\nhad loved so well. The grief of Macrina was not to be expressed. She had\nbeen the inseparable companion of her mother since her earliest infancy,\nand they had not had a thought or wish but what was in common.\n\nBefore Macrina had recovered from this blow she was called on to endure\nanother. Her favourite brother, Naucratius, was found dead in the field\nalong with his servant Chrysapius, without it being known what had\ncaused their death.\n\nSix years later she was called to mourn the loss of her eldest brother,\nS. Basil. It was she who, with his friend Gregory Nazianzen, had been\nthe means of turning his heart entirely to God. As a young man he had\nbeen disposed to push his way as a statesman. In 355 Basil had been at\nschool with Julian, afterwards Emperor, and an apostate from the faith,\nand with Gregory, who was the son of the Bishop of Nazianzus. Basil had\nnot formed a high opinion of the former, but with Gregory \u201cit was one\nsoul in two bodies.\u201d On returning to C\u00e6sarea after his father\u2019s death,\nBasil turned towards a life in the world, and a prospect of advancement\nin official life opened to him. It was then that Macrina had exerted all\nher influence over him, and gave him that final direction which made of\nhim so glorious a saint and teacher of the Church.\n\nAnd now Macrina had lost him.\n\nIn the month of September or October in the year following the death of\nS. Basil, Gregory\u2014now Bishop of Nyssa\u2014was present at the Council held at\nAntioch, and on leaving it he resolved on paying a visit to Macrina. He\nhad not seen her since the death of their brother Basil, and he wished\nto talk with her about him. The journey was long, and the snows were\nalready powdering the lower ranges of the lofty mountains he had to\npass.\n\nOn the night previous to his arrival on the banks of the Iris, after a\ntedious and long day\u2019s travel, he had a dream. It seemed to him that he\nheld relics in his hands that emitted a blaze of white light.\n\nWhen he awoke he wondered what this dream could signify, for he was not\nabove the superstition of his age which attributed importance to dreams;\nbut as he neared the monastery he met a servant who told him that\nMacrina was dangerously ill, and Gregory at once concluded that his\ndream was a portent of her approaching dissolution.\n\nSick at heart, he pressed forward, and arrived at the villa. Those\nwithin came forth to welcome him, except the sisters, who remained in\nthe church, sorrowful at the prospect of losing their best friend, yet\nglad that she should see her brother before her death.\n\nGregory at once entered the church and prayed, and gave his episcopal\nbenediction to all. Then he asked to be conducted to Macrina.\n\nWe have an account of the last scene from his own pen, and this shall be\ngiven with only a little condensation.\n\n\u201cA woman who was there opened the door to me, and led me within. I found\nmy sister lying on the ground, on a plank covered with sackcloth (the\nCilician material made of goat\u2019s hair, much in use for blankets) and\nwith a pillow of the same supporting her head. She was very ill, but\nwhen she saw me, unable on account of her great weakness to rise and\nmeet me, she lifted herself on one elbow, placing the other hand on the\nground for her support. I ran to her, and insisted on laying her down\nagain as she had been. Then she lifted her hands to Heaven and said, \u2018I\nthank Thee, O Lord my God, in that Thou hast fulfilled the desire of my\nheart.\u2019\n\n\u201cShe did her utmost to conceal from us what a difficulty she found in\nbreathing, so as not to increase our distress; and her face was bright\nand smiling, and she spoke of such matters as she thought pleasing to\nus. But when we came to mention Basil, then my face expressed the grief\nI was in at his loss. But she, on the contrary, spoke of the matter with\nserenity of soul and elevation of mind, so that I felt myself as though\ncarried up above all worldly considerations into heavenly regions with\nher.\n\n\u201cPresently she said, \u2018Brother, you have had a tedious journey, and must\nbe very tired: I pray you take a little rest.\u2019 And although it was a\ndelight to me to listen to her, yet I obeyed; and I went forth into the\ngarden, where was a pleasant shady walk. However, I was in such trouble\nof mind that I could admire nothing, and I could think only of what must\nshortly happen.\n\n\u201cI suppose she must have divined my thoughts, for she sent word to me\nnot to fret, as she hoped speedily to be better; but she really meant\nthat she would escape from her present pains, and be with God, for whom\nher soul ever thirsted. I got up when I heard this, and went to see her\nagain. Then, when we were together, she began to talk about old times,\nsince our childhood, and all as calmly and consequently as though she\nwere reading out of a book. She talked of the mercies shown by God to\nour father, mother, and all the family.\n\n\u201cI wanted to tell her about my troubles when the Emperor Valens banished\nme for the Faith, and of other troubles in which I had been involved;\nbut she cut me short with \u2018Never lose sight of the obligations you owe\nto God. Think chiefly of the advantages you have received from Him.\u2019\n\n\u201cAs she was speaking we heard the song of the virgins calling to\nvespers, and my sister bade me go to the church. Thus passed the night,\nand when day dawned I could see clearly by her condition that it would\nbe her last, for the fever had exhausted her last powers.\n\n\u201cMy soul was agitated by double feelings: one was grief, for nature\nwould make me feel, and I knew that the words I heard were the last that\nwould be uttered by one very dear to me; the other was admiration at the\ncalm and trust with which she awaited death.\n\n\u201cThe sun was nigh setting without her having lost the force of her mind.\nThen she ceased to speak to us, but folded her hands and fixed her eyes\non her heavenly Bridegroom. Her little bed was turned with the feet to\nthe east, and she spoke to Him in a low voice, which we could hardly\nhear. We did, however, collect some of her words: \u2018O Lord, Thou\ndeliverest us from the fear of death; Thou makest the close of life the\ncommencement of a new and truer life. Thou sufferest us to sleep awhile,\nand then wilt call us with the trumpet at the end of time. To the earth\nThou entrustest the dust of which Thy hands have fashioned us, to\nreclaim it and clothe it with immortality and glory. Lord, Thou who on\nthe Cross didst pardon the malefactor, remember me in Thy kingdom.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen Macrina made the sign of the cross on her eyes, her mouth, and her\nheart; and, the strength of the fever having parched her tongue, we\ncould no longer follow her, but saw that her lips continued to move. She\nclosed her eyes; but when a lamp was brought into the room she opened\nthem, and made a sign that she desired to recite vespers. But her tongue\nfailed her, only her spirit was active, and her lips and hands moved as\nbefore, and we understood when she had finished, by her again signing\nherself.\n\n\u201cFinally she drew a long, deep sigh, and passed away in prayer. Seeing\nwhat had taken place, and remembering a wish she had expressed to me, in\nour last conversation, that I should render her the last offices, I put\nout my shaking hand to her face to close the eyes and mouth. But I did\nthis only to fulfil my promise, for really there was no need, as eyes\nand mouth were closed, so that she appeared rather to be sleeping than\ndead. Her hands lay on her breast, and her body rested modestly, as that\nof a virgin.\u201d\n\nWhen Macrina was being prepared for burial, there was no other raiment\nof hers found save her veil, her mantle, habit, and a pair of worn-out\nshoes. Then Gregory gave one of his own tunics for clothing his sister\u2019s\nbody, and over her was cast her mother\u2019s black cloak; \u201cand,\u201d says\nGregory, \u201cthe blackness of this cloak made her face seem so much the\nwhiter, as though it shone with light.\u201d\n\nAs she was being clothed, a widow, who loved her and attended to these\nlast offices, untied a slender string that was round her neck, and\nreleased a little cross and an iron ring.\n\n\u201cKeep the cross,\u201d said Gregory to the widow, \u201cas a remembrance of her;\nand I shall ever preserve the ring.\u201d\n\nWho can tell? Perhaps that poor little iron ring was the reminiscence of\nher engagement to the young man to whom she had long ago been betrothed,\nand to whom she had remained ever faithful.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. GENEVI\u00c8VE.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  VII\n\n                          _GENEVI\u00c8VE OF PARIS_\n\n\nS. Genevi\u00e8ve was born and lived in a time of frightful disaster,\nunparalleled in the history of Europe. From the commencement of the\nfifth century a veritable deluge of diverse nations, driven on one by\nanother, inundated the crumbling empire, and gave the signal for its\ncomplete ruin.\n\nThe Franks, under the long-haired Clodion, traversing the forest of the\nArdennes, and rolling to the banks of the Somme, had seized on Amiens,\nCambrai, Tournai, after having burnt Tr\u00e8ves, and sacked Cologne. The\ncitizens, of Tr\u00e8ves, which had been the residence of emperors since\nMaximian, had been slaughtered in the circus to which they had fled. The\namphitheatre, which under Constantine has streamed with the blood of the\nBarbarians, was now heaped with the bodies of Romans. Cologne had been\nrevelling in drunken orgy, when a slave ran to announce that the Franks\nwere on the walls. The citizens had not the manhood to rise from table\nso as to die standing. Their blood mingled with the wine of their\noverturned cups. God chastised Roman vices with disgrace as with iron.\nIn this fifth century three societies stood face to face\u2014the Old Roman\npolity, the Barbarian, and the Church. Rome went to pieces under the\nblows of the Barbarians, but the Barbarian in turn was subjugated by\nChristianity.\n\nS. Genevi\u00e8ve was born at Nanterre, about seven miles from Paris, in 422\nor 423. The old name of the place, Nemetdoor, is purely Celtic, as is\nher name, which is the same as Gwenever or Gwenhwyvar in Welsh. Her\nfather was named Severus, and her mother Gerontia, the female form of\nGeraint. There can be no doubt whatever that she was of Gallic origin,\nbut Latinised, and a Christian.\n\nOne word, before proceeding, about the authority for her life. This is a\nbiography, written eighteen years after her death, by the priest Genes,\nher spiritual director. He learned from the saint the general outline of\nthe incidents in her childhood, and these he dressed up in what he\nbelieved to be literary style.\n\nLate in the Middle Ages it was said that S. Genevi\u00e8ve had kept sheep for\nher father, and she is now generally represented as a shepherdess; but\nthere is no early authority for this, although the fact is very\nprobable. In the year 429 S. Germain, Bishop of Auxerre, and S. Lupus,\nBishop of Troyes, at the entreaty of the British Church, commissioned\nfor the work by a Council of Gallican bishops, left their dioceses to\nvisit our island, there to withstand the Pelagian heresy, which was\nmaking way.\n\nS. Germain was well qualified to go to Britain, as he was of Celtic\norigin, and his sister was the wife of Aldor, brother of Constantine I.,\nKing of Devon and Cornwall.\n\nOn his way to the coast he passed through Nanterre. The people, hearing\nof his approach, lined the road, and with them were the children in\ngoodly numbers.\n\nAs Germain and Lupus advanced, the eye of the former rested on a fair\nlittle girl of seven, whose devout look, and sweet, innocent face,\narrested him. He stood still, and called her to him, then stooped and\nkissed her on the brow, and asked her name. He was told that she was\ncalled Genevi\u00e8ve. The pleased parents now stepped up, and the venerable\nbishop asked, \u201cIs this your child?\u201d\n\nThey answered in the affirmative.\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said Germain, \u201chappy are ye in having a child so blessed. She\nwill be great before God; and, moved by her example, many will decline\nfrom evil and incline to that which is good, and will obtain remission\nof their sins, and the reward of life from Christ.\u201d And then, after a\npause, he said to the young girl, \u201cMy daughter, Genevi\u00e8ve.\u201d She\nanswered, \u201cThy little maiden listens.\u201d\n\nThen he said, \u201cDo not fear to tell me whether it be not your desire to\ndevote yourself body and soul to Christ.\u201d\n\nShe answered, \u201cBlessed be thou, father, for thou hast spoken my desire.\nI pray God earnestly that He will grant it me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave confidence, my daughter,\u201d said Germain; \u201cbe of good courage, and\nwhat you believe in your heart and confess with your lips, that take\ncare to perform. God will add to your comeliness both virtue and\nstrength.\u201d\n\nThen they went into the church and sang nones and vespers, and\nthroughout the office Bishop Germain rested his right hand on the fair\nlittle head of the child.\n\nThat evening, after supper had been eaten and they had sung a hymn,\nGermain bade Severus retire with his daughter, but bring her to him\nagain early next morning. So when day broke, Severus returned with the\nchild, and the old bishop smiled, and said, \u201cWelcome, little daughter\nGenevi\u00e8ve. Do you recollect what was said yesterday?\u201d\n\nShe answered, \u201cMy father, I remember what I promised, and with God\u2019s\nhelp what I promised that I will perform.\u201d\n\nThen S. Germain picked up a brass coin from the ground, which had the\nsign of the cross on it, and which he had noticed lying there whilst he\nwas speaking; and he gave it to her, saying, \u201cBore a hole in this, and\nwear it round thy neck in remembrance of me, and let no other ornament,\nor gold or silver or pearls, adorn thy neck and thy fingers.\u201d Then he\nbade her farewell, commending her to the care of her father, and pursued\nhis journey.\n\nNow, we may ask, How much of this is true? Almost everything. Genevi\u00e8ve\nwas certain never to forget how the old bishop had stopped her, when a\nlittle mite of seven, how he had asked her name, had made her promise to\nlove and fear God; how in church his hand had rested all through the\nservice on her head, and how he had given her the coin to wear. But as\nto the prophecy relative to her future, and to his exacting of her a\npromise to be a nun, all that may be the make-up of Genes, writing after\nshe had been a blessing to the people of Paris, and had embraced the\nmonastic life.\n\nAt the age of fifteen she and two other girls somewhat older than\nherself presented themselves before the bishop to be veiled as dedicated\nvirgins. It was remarked that, although Genevi\u00e8ve was the youngest, yet\nthe bishop consecrated her first.\n\nAfter their dedication they returned to their homes; for, at that time,\nit was not a matter of course that consecrated virgins should live in\ncommunity.\n\nAbout this time her mother suffered from inflamed eyes, and for\ntwenty-one months, or nearly two years, could not see to do her\nhousehold work. Accordingly, Genevi\u00e8ve was of immense assistance to her.\nShe was wont repeatedly to bathe her mother\u2019s eyes with water from the\nwell, and this in time reduced the inflammation, so that eventually\nGerontia recovered her sight.\n\nAt last Genevi\u00e8ve lost both her parents, and now, having no home duties\nto restrain her, she went to Paris into a religious community.\n\nIn 447 S. Germain again visited Britain about the same trouble which had\noccasioned his first journey; and when, on his way, he came to Paris, he\ninquired for the little girl whom he had blessed at Nanterre eighteen\nyears before.\n\nGenes tells us that some spiteful people sought to disparage her; but\nGermain would not hearken to them, and sent for and communed with her.\n\nWhat caused them to make light of her was probably this. She had adopted\na life of great asceticism, eating nothing but barley bread and beans,\nand that only twice in the week; and remaining within her cell,\nconversing with none from Epiphany till Easter.\n\nThere were a number of people in Paris who did not like these\nextravagances; and it was these, in all probability, who spoke against\nher to S. Germain. But, as we shall see presently, by this means she did\nacquire an enormous power over the people of Paris, which she used for\ngood.\n\nS. Germain had probably but just returned from Britain before a new and\nterrible scourge broke upon Gaul.\n\nIn 451, the Huns, headed by their king, Attila, burst in. In two columns\nthis vast horde had ascended the Danube. One of these drew several\nGerman peoples along with it, eager for plunder, whilst the other fell\non and crushed the isolated Roman stations. This agglomeration of\ninvaders met at the sources of the Danube, crossed the Rhine at Basle,\nwhere the proximity to the Black Forest favoured the construction of\nrafts for passing over.\n\nThe Franks, who occupied the right bank of the Rhine, extended their\nhands to the Huns. The Burgundians, however, offered a vain resistance,\nand were cut to pieces. The Huns, entering Gaul, completed the\ndestruction of what had been left standing by Vandals, Suevi, and Alans.\nAttila, following the Rhine as he had the Danube, devastated Alsace.\nStrasburg, Spires, Worms, ruined by preceding invasions, had not risen\nfrom the dust. Mayence was sacked, Toul sank in flames, Metz had its\nwalls and towers overthrown after a few months\u2019 resistance. The savage\nconquerors massacred all, even to the children at the breast. They fired\nthe town, and long after its site could only be recognised by the Chapel\nof S. Stephen, which had escaped the conflagration.\n\nSeveral cities opened their gates to Attila: they hoped to find safety\nin submission; they did but expedite their destruction. Despair gave\ncourage to others, but no heroism availed against these devouring\nhordes. Rheims and Arras were delivered over to the sack. The host broke\nup into fractions, which ravaged the country, carrying everywhere fire\nand sword.\n\nAttila advanced to the Loire.\n\nThen it was that a panic fell on the inhabitants of Paris. In madness of\nfear, they prepared to desert it: the rich in their chariots and\nwaggons, the poor on foot.\n\nIt was now that S. Genevi\u00e8ve stood forward and rebuked their cowardice.\nWhither could they fly? The enemy penetrated everywhere. The Hun gained\naudacity by the universal panic. Better man their walls, brace their\nhearts, and resist heroically.\n\nThe Parisian mob, headlong and cruel, as such a mob has ever been,\nhowled at her, and prepared to pelt her with stones and cast her into\nthe Seine, when, opportunely, appeared the Archdeacon of Auxerre, sent\nexpressly to Genevi\u00e8ve from the bishop, just returned from Britain, and\nnow dying, bearing Blessed Bread to her, that he had sent in token of\naffectionate communion. This loaf, the _eulogia_, was that from which\nthe bread for the Communion had been taken, and which remained over. It\nhad been blessed, but not consecrated; and it was sent by bishops to\nthose whom they held in esteem.\n\nSuch a token of regard paid to Genevi\u00e8ve by one so highly esteemed awed\nthe rabble, and they swung from one temper to another. They were now\namenable to her advice. They closed the gates, accumulated the munitions\nof war, and made preparations to stand a siege; but Attila did not\napproach. He foresaw that it would take him too long to reduce so strong\na place. On the 14th of June, 451, the Huns encountered their first\nrepulse. They were driven from the siege of Orleans. On the field of\nCh\u00e2lons-sur-Marne, the memorable battle was fought between Aetius, the\nRoman general, and Attila. \u201cIt was a battle,\u201d says the historian\nJornandes, \u201cwhich for atrocity, multitude, horror, and stubbornness has\nnot had its like.\u201d The field was heaped with the dead, but it resulted\nin the expulsion of the Huns from Gaul.\n\nFeeling a great reverence for S. Denis, Genevi\u00e8ve desired greatly to\nbuild a church on the scene of his martyrdom; and she urged some priests\nto undertake the work. But they hesitated, saying that they had no means\nof burning lime\u2014it was a lost art. Then, so runs the tale, one of them\nsuddenly recollected having heard two swineherds in conversation on the\nbridge over the Seine. One had said to the other: \u201cWhilst I was\nfollowing one of my pigs the other day, I lit in the forest on an\nancient abandoned lime-kiln.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is no marvel,\u201d answered the other, \u201cfor I found a sapling in the\nforest uprooted by the wind, and under its roots was an old kiln.\u201d\n\nThe priests inquired where these kilns were and used them, and Genevi\u00e8ve\nset the priest Genes, who was afterwards her biographer, to superintend\nthe work of building the church.\n\nIt shows to what a condition of degradation the art of building had\nfallen, when the Parisians were unable to burn lime without old Roman\nkilns for the purpose.\n\nA little incident, very simple and natural, was afterwards worked up\ninto a marvel. She was going one night from her lodging to the church\nfor prayers, carrying a lantern, when the wind, which was violent,\nextinguished it. She opened the lantern, when a puff of wind on the\nthick red glowing wick rekindled the flame. This was thought quite\nmiraculous. It is a thing that has happened over and over again with\ntallow candles when the snuff is long.\n\nIn the year 486, Childeric, King of the Franks, laid siege to Paris,\nwhich had remained under Roman governors. The siege lasted ten years, to\n496. It cannot have been prosecuted with much persistence.\n\nThe Frank army reduced the city to great straits, and famine set in. The\npoor suffered the extremity of want, and were dying like flies. No one\nseemed to know what to do. All energy and resourcefulness had deserted\nthose in authority. Genevi\u00e8ve alone showed what steps should be taken:\nshe got into a ship, and was rowed up the Seine, and then up the Aube to\nAr\u00e7is, where she knew that she could obtain corn. In the Seine was a\nfallen tree with a snag that had been the cause of the loss of several\nvessels, but no one had thought of removing the obstruction. Genevi\u00e8ve\nmade her boatmen saw up the tree and break it, so that it floated down\nstream and could effect no further mischief. Another instance of the\ncondition of helplessness into which the debased provincials of Gaul had\nfallen: they neither could build lime-kilns nor keep their rivers open\nfor traffic. She got together what provisions she could at Ar\u00e7is, then\nwent on upon the same quest to Troyes, and finally laded eleven barges\nwith corn, and returned with them to the famished city. As they neared\nParis a strong gale was blowing, and the barges being laden very heavily\nran some risk, especially as here also there were snags in the water.\nBut with patience and trouble they were man\u0153uvred through these\nimpediments, and the convoy arrived in Paris, with the priests singing,\nand all who were in the boats joining, \u201cThe Lord is our help and our\nsalvation. The Lord hath delivered us in the time of trouble.\u201d\n\nThe joy and gratitude of the Parisians knew no bounds. Afterwards, when\nthe city did fall, Childeric resolved on executing a great host of\ncaptives; but Genevi\u00e8ve, in a paroxysm of compassion, rushed to him,\nfell on her knees, and would not desist from intercession on their\nbehalf till he had consented to spare them.\n\nAt length, worn out by age, she died in 512, and was buried in Paris,\nwhere now stands the Panth\u00e9on. The church was desecrated at the\nRevolution, and turned into a burial-place for Mirabeau, the regicide\nLepelletier de Saint-Fargeau, the brutal Marat, Dampierre, Fabre, Bayle,\nand other revolutionaries. The bodies of Voltaire and Rousseau were also\ntransferred to it.\n\nIn 1806 it was again restored as a church, but was once more turned into\na temple after the July revolution of 1830. Once again consecrated in\n1851, it was finally secularised in 1885 for the obsequies of Victor\nHugo.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE SISTER OF S. BENEDICT.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  VIII\n\n                      _THE SISTER OF S. BENEDICT_\n\n\nIt looked to the eyes of Christians of the Roman Empire crumbling to\npieces as though the end of all things were at hand. From every quarter\nbarbarism was extending over the confines of the Empire and was breaking\nthem down. The civilisation which had been built up through centuries,\nthe organism of political unity, the literature and learning of two\ngreat and gifted races, the Greek and the Latin, achievements of art\nnever to be surpassed, and Christianity, all seemed destined to go down\nand be trodden under foot never to reappear.\n\nThroughout the Church there rose the wail to God\u2014\u201cThine adversaries roar\nin the midst of Thy congregations: and set up their banners for tokens.\nHe that hewed timber afore out of the thick trees was known to bring it\nto an excellent work. But now they break down all the carved work\nthereof with axes and hammers. They have set fire upon Thy holy places:\nand have defiled the dwelling-place of Thy Name, even unto the ground.\nYea, they said in their hearts, Let us make havock of them altogether:\nthus have they burnt up all the houses of God in the land. We see not\nour tokens, there is not one prophet more: no, not one is there among\nus, that understandeth any more. O God, how long shall the adversary do\nthis dishonour: how long shall the enemy blaspheme Thy Name, for ever?\u201d\n\nConfusion, corruption, despair and death, were everywhere; social\ndismemberment was complete. The empire that had embraced the known world\nwas crumbling to dust under the blows of the mysterious multitudes\npassing out of the darkness beyond the pale. Odoacer, the chief of the\nHeruli, had snatched the purple of the C\u00e6sars from the shoulders of\ntheir last representative in 476, but himself disdained to wear a mantle\nthat was stained with cowardice and dishonour. Authority, morals, laws,\nscience, the arts, religion itself, all seemed to be sinking into the\nvortex of death.\n\nGermany was wholly pagan, a breeding-place of hordes that burst forth\nperiodically to devastate the land that had been cultivated, and to\nextinguish the light wherever it burned. Gaul had been overwhelmed by\nsuccessive waves of barbarism. Spain was ravaged by Visigoths, Suevi,\nAlani, and Vandals. These latter had swept over Northern Africa, and had\ngiven it up to unpitying persecution. Britain had been invaded by the\nAnglo-Saxons, who had driven the Britons and their Christianity to the\nmountains of Strathclyde, Wales, and to the peninsula of Cornwall. Over\nthe frozen Danube, the Goths had passed on their cumbrous waggons, and\nhad spread from the woody shores of Dalmatia to the walls of\nConstantinople.\n\nThe condition of Italy, the heart and soul of the Empire that had been\ndissolved, was deplorable to the last degree. For centuries agriculture\nhad decayed in it, as the farms were absorbed by the great senatorial\nfamilies and worked by their slaves. The people had come to expect their\ngrain from Egypt and Africa, and now these tributary harvests were\nwithdrawn. War, famine, pestilence stalked over its fair plains, and\nmowed down such as remained of the population. Pope Gelasius affirmed,\nwith some exaggeration, that in \u00c6milia, Tuscany and the adjacent\nprovinces, the human species was almost extirpated. \u201cThe plebeians of\nRome,\u201d says Gibbon, \u201cwho were fed by the hand of their master, perished\nor disappeared, as soon as his liberality was suppressed; the decline of\nthe arts reduced the industrious mechanic to idleness and want; and the\nsenators, who might support with patience the ruin of their country,\nbewailed their private loss of wealth and luxury. One-third of those\nample estates, to which the ruin of Italy is originally imputed, was\nextorted for the use of the conquerors. Injuries were aggravated by\ninsults; the sense of actual sufferings was embittered by the fear of\nmore dreadful evils; and as new lands were allotted to new swarms of\nbarbarians, each senator was apprehensive lest the arbitrary surveyors\nshould approach his favourite villa, or his most profitable farm. The\nleast unfortunate were those who submitted without a murmur to the power\nwhich it was impossible to resist.\u201d\n\nThe general despair produced in religious minds the conviction that the\nfashion of the world was passing away, there was nothing further to be\nhoped for in it, and that the only direction in which the eternal spring\nof hope could flow was in the channels of religion that led to heaven.\n\nThis was the condition of affairs in Italy, and this explains the origin\nand the enormous expansion of the Benedictine Order.\n\nS. Benedict was born along with his sister Scholastica in the year 480.\nThey were twins, and loved each other with that tenderness which so\ngenerally exists between twins; they were of one heart and one soul.\n\nThey belonged to the noble Anician family, whose history is traceable to\nthe second century before Christ.\n\nBenedict and his twin sister were born at Nursia, a Sabine town,\nsituated high up in the mountains near the source of the Nar. It was\nhere that Vespasia Polla, mother of the Emperor Vespasian, was also\nborn. Virgil speaks of the coldness of its climate, as the chilly cradle\nof the waters of Tiber and Febaris. To the east tower up the Apennines\nto the peak of the Monte della Sibilla. Two centuries after the death of\nBenedict, the vast ruins of his ancestral palace were still to be seen\noutside the town gates.\n\nDoubtless it was to this Alpine retreat that the family had fled to hide\nthemselves from the Gothic invaders who were devouring the land.\nBenedict and his twin sister, as their minds opened, became aware of the\nuniversal hopelessness that possessed men\u2019s minds. The doom of the great\nnobles was as certainly sealed as at the French Revolution. No prospect\nwas open to them of any work, any career in political life. They could\nnot fly the fatherland to the colonies, for the colonies were in the\nthroes as well.\n\nThese little children, wandering hand in hand through the empty halls of\nthe palace, became prematurely grave, and at an early age were convinced\nthat the only life open to them was that of religion.\n\nScholastica was the first to speak out what she felt, and to resolve to\ndevote herself wholly to God. Who could think of marriage then, when\nthere was no prospect of being able to rear a family in sufficiency and\nto any career? Benedict followed. Leaving his old nurse, to whom the\ncharge of the children had been committed, and who loved them as her own\nsoul, he plunged into the gorges of the mountains to seek for a retreat\nwhere he might discipline his body and soul. The place he found was\nSubiaco, twenty-six miles from Tivoli, up the valley of the Anio. Why he\nchose this spot we do not know. He can hardly have stumbled on it in his\nwanderings about Nursia, and it is probable that he went thence from\nsome other villa and estate of his parents.\n\nThe first place where he lodged was Mentorella, and there his nurse,\nCyrilla, came up with him, and insisted on furnishing him with supplies\nof food. But thence he soon went on to Subiaco, where he found a cave in\nthe face of the rocks above the falls of the Anio, and there he spent\nthree years. Every day, Romanus, a monk who dwelt amid a colony of\nanchorites among the ruins of Nero\u2019s palace, near at hand, let down to\nhim half a loaf from the top of the rock above, giving him notice of its\napproach by the ringing of a bell suspended to the same rope with the\nfood.\n\nIt was an astounding mode of life for a boy growing into manhood, and we\nshould now consider it a most unprofitable one. But it was not destined\nto be unprofitable\u2014very much the contrary; and we must remember that\nthere was absolutely no other field for the activities of a young noble\nopen before him.\n\n\u201cHow perfectly,\u201d says Dean Milman, \u201cthe whole atmosphere was then\nimpregnated with an inexhaustible yearning for the supernatural, appears\nfrom the ardour with which the monastic passions were indulged at the\nearliest age. Children were nursed and trained to expect at every\ninstant more than human interferences; their young energies had ever\nbefore them examples of asceticism, to which it was the glory, the true\nfelicity of life, to aspire. The thoughtful child had all his mind thus\npreoccupied. He was early, it might almost seem intuitively, trained to\nthis course of life; wherever there was gentleness, modesty, the\ntimidity of young passion, repugnance to vice, an imaginative\ntemperament, a consciousness of unfitness to wrestle with the rough\nrealities of life, the way lay invitingly open\u2014the difficult, it is\ntrue, and painful, but direct and unerring way to heaven.\u201d\n\nSuch a life is not needed now-a-days. What is now required is one like\nthat of Angela, in Sir Walter Besant\u2019s \u201cAll Sorts and Conditions of\nMen,\u201d who will plunge into the sordid wretchedness of the slums of our\ngreat cities, and labour there to bring happiness to the dull lives of\nthe toilers\u2014who will labour to ameliorate the condition of those that\nare the slaves of our nineteenth-century civilisation. What we\nrequire\u2014what God requires\u2014are social reformers, men and women, who in\nplace of living selfish lives of amusement and luxury, will devote\nthemselves to helping to raise those who are down, who will seek\nhappiness, not in pampering self, but in making others happy.\n\nAfter a while crowds of disciples flocked to Benedict, and then he left\nSubiaco for Monte Cassino, which was thenceforth to be the capital of\nmonastic life.\n\nStrange it may appear, but it was true, that Benedict found the people\nround Cassino still pagans, offering sacrifices in a temple to Apollo on\nthe height where he chose to plant his settlement.\n\n                                 \u201cIn old days,\n             That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests,\n             Was, on its height, frequented by a race\n             Deceived and ill-disposed; and I it was,\n             Who thither carried first the name of Him,\n             Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man,\n             And such a speeding grace shone over me,\n             That from their impious worship I reclaim\u2019d\n             The dwellers round about.\u201d\u2014Dante, _Par._ xxii.\n\nThe visitor to Monte Cassino now leaves the station at San Germano, and\nhires donkeys for the ascent. The steep and stony path winds above the\nroofs of the houses of the town, and at every path opens fresh views of\nentrancing beauty. The silver thread of the Garigliano lies below, with\ntowns studded on its banks; long ranges of mountains of the most\nbeautiful outline break the horizon, billow after billow of intensest\nblue, crested as with a foam of snow. Little oratories by the wayside\ncommemorate incidents in the life of S. Benedict. First comes that of S.\nPlacidus, the favourite disciple of the patriarch; then that of\nScholastica his sister; then one where he is supposed to have wrought a\nmiracle; next a cross on a platform that indicates the place where\nbrother and sister met for the last time\u2014of which more anon. Then a\ngrating and a cross where S. Benedict knelt to ask God\u2019s blessing before\nhe laid the foundation stone of his monastery. Benedict had been\nthirty-six years a monk before he came to Monte Cassino, and we know\nnothing of his sister\u2019s life through all these years, save that she had\nmaintained a still and holy converse with God. It is most probable that\nshe had never tarried very far from her brother. Now that he settled at\nMonte Cassino, she came and planted herself with a little community of\npious women at the foot of the mountain. Scholastica was as white in\nsoul, as earnest, as devout as was Benedict. They were alike in\neverything save in sex; and she became, as unawares as himself, a mighty\nfoundress\u2014for if from him houses for men multiplied throughout the\nWestern world, so was she the mother spiritual of innumerable similar\nrefuges for holy women.\n\nAt Monte Cassino, according to the expression of Pope Urban II., \u201cthe\nmonastic life flowed from the heart of Benedict as from the fountain of\nParadise,\u201d and here it was that he composed his famous rule, that\ncommenced with the words, \u201cHearken, O my sons\u201d (_Ausculta o fili_).\n\nWhen he drew it up, not a notion came into his head that he was doing a\nwork that would last, a work that was absolutely needed for the times,\nand without which the barbarians would never have been tamed and\nregenerated, and a new civilisation superior to the old rise out of the\nashes of that which expired.\n\nIt is quite true that there were plenty of monks and nuns already\nscattered about; but they were under no definite rule, under no strict\nobedience. We see exactly how it was among the Celtic societies. An\nabbot or abbess rambled over the West, now in Ireland, then in Scotland,\nin Britain, in Armorica, dived into the Swiss gorges, strayed about in\nthe woods of Germany, founding houses and churches, then going farther.\nAnd just as the abbots were ever on the move, so was it with those who\nplaced themselves under their teaching. No sooner did they think they\nknew enough, or no sooner did the itch of change affect them, than away\nthey went, now to pay a brief visit to some other great master, then to\nbe off again and found monasteries of their own. There was no stability\nabout them, and above all no organisation. The idea of obedience never\nseems to have entered their heads, and, as a matter of course, a great\nnumber of vagabonds too idle to work, and loving change, assumed the\ntonsure and habit, and roved over the country leading scandalous lives;\nin fact, the Hooligans of the day postured as saints. Monachism, which\nshould have served a high missionary purpose, for lack of organisation\nwas becoming a discredit to Christianity.\n\nThere is a striking French tale, \u201cMon oncle Celestin,\u201d by Ferdinand\nFaber, in which he describes the \u201cermites\u201d of the Cevennes and the south\nof France, a set of men who pretend to lead exalted lives, wear a\nreligious habit, are under no ecclesiastical discipline, and who\u2014with\nsome notable exceptions\u2014are a scandal and source of demoralisation. Now\nthe monks and ascetics before S. Benedict were very much like these\nmodern \u201cermites\u201d of the Cevennes.\n\nThe great work of S. Benedict was to coordinate all these ardent men in\none body, to subject them to discipline, to insist on obedience, and\nthen to employ their powers for the good of the Church and of humanity\nin general.\n\nAt that period, when nations had to be conquered, and those nations\nbarbarian, the ordinary methods of propagating the faith did not\nsuffice. Single priests were pretty sure to be butchered, or if not,\nalone they could effect very little. Besides, the barbarians had to be\ntaught something more than Christianity; they had to be instructed in\nthe industrial arts and in agriculture.\n\nNow, the Benedictine monastery was not only a missionary establishment\ncontaining a great many men, but it was a school, a hospital, a\npoorhouse, a great workshop, and an agricultural institution.\n\nBut we must leave this interesting topic to speak of S. Scholastica.\n\nAs already said, she had established herself at the foot of the mountain\nwith a community of like-minded women who were under the direction of\nher brother. They met only once a year; and then it was that Scholastica\nleft her cloister to seek Benedict. He, on his side, descended part way\nto meet her; and the place where they clasped hands and looked into each\nother\u2019s eyes was on the mountain side, not very far from the gate of the\nmonastery.\n\n\u201cThere, at their last meeting, occurred that struggle of fraternal love\nwith the austerity of the rule, which is the only episode in the life of\nScholastica, and which has insured an imperishable remembrance to her\nname. They had passed the entire day in pious conversation, mingled with\nthe praises of God. Towards evening they ate together.\n\n\u201cWhile they were still at table, and the night approached, Scholastica\nsaid to her brother, \u2018I pray thee do not leave me to-night, but let us\nspeak of the joys of heaven till the morning.\u2019 \u2018What sayest thou, my\nsister!\u2019 answered Benedict; \u2018on no account can I remain out of the\nmonastery.\u2019\n\n\u201cUpon the refusal of her brother, Scholastica bent her head between her\nclasped hands on the table, and prayed to God, shedding tears to such an\nextent that they ran over the table. The weather was at the time serene:\nthere was not a cloud in the sky. But scarcely had she raised her head,\nwhen thunder was heard muttering, and a storm began. The rain,\nlightning, and thunder were such, that neither Benedict nor any of the\nbrethren who accompanied him could take a step beyond the roof that\nsheltered them.\n\n\u201cThen he said to Scholastica, \u2018May God pardon thee, my sister, but what\nhast thou done?\u2019 \u2018Ah yes!\u2019 she answered him, \u2018I prayed thee, and thou\nwouldst not listen to me; then I prayed God, and He heard me. Go now, if\nthou canst, and send me away, to return to my convent.\u2019\n\n\u201cHe resigned himself, against his will, to remain, and they passed the\nrest of the night in spiritual conversation. S. Gregory, who has\npreserved this tale to us, adds that it is not to be wondered at God\ngranting the desire of the sister rather than that of the brother,\nbecause of the two it was the sister who loved most, and that those who\nlove most have the greatest power with God.\n\n\u201cIn the morning they parted, to see each other no more in this life.\nThree days after, Benedict, being at the window of his cell, had a\nvision, in which he saw his sister entering heaven under the form of a\ndove. Overpowered with joy, his gratitude burst forth in songs and hymns\nto the glory of God. He immediately sent for the body of the saint,\nwhich was brought to Monte Cassino, and placed in the sepulchre he had\nalready prepared for himself, that death might not separate those whose\nsouls had always been united to God.\n\n\u201cThe death of his sister was the signal of departure for himself. He\nsurvived her only forty days. A violent fever having seized him, he\ncaused himself to be carried into the chapel of S. John the Baptist. He\nhad before ordered to be opened the tomb in which his sister slept.\nThere, supported in the arms of his disciples, he received the viaticum:\nthen, placing himself at the side of the open grave, at the foot of the\naltar, and with his arms extended towards heaven, he died standing,\nmurmuring a last prayer.\n\n\u201cDied standing!\u2014such a victorious death became well the great soldier of\nGod.\u201d[3]\n\nHe was buried beside his sister, on the very spot where had stood the\naltar of Apollo which he had cast down.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. BRIDGET OF KILDARE.]\n\n\n\n\n                                   IX\n\n                              _S. BRIDGET_\n\n\nOne would have to look through many centuries, and over a wide tract of\nthe earth\u2019s surface, to find a woman who possessed in her own generation\nso large an influence, and who so deeply impressed her personality on\nafter generations, as S. Bridget. A woman she was, with no advantages of\nbirth; but who by the mere force of character and her marvellous\nholiness, became a predominating power in the Church of Ireland after\nthe death of S. Patrick.\n\nIt is said of the sick that the nurse is as important as the doctor; and\nin the spread of the Gospel and the establishment of the Church, the\npart of Bridget was only second to that of the great Apostle of Ireland.\n\nThe lives of S. Bridget that we possess are, unhappily, late, and\nintermixed, nay, overloaded with fable; the most grotesque and\npreposterous miracles are attributed to her. Nevertheless, when sifted,\nand the extravagances have been eliminated, sufficient of truth, of real\nhistory and biography remains behind for us to distinguish the main\noutline of her story, and to discern the real characteristics of the\nSaint.\n\nIt would seem to be a law of Divine providence, that at such periods of\ntransformation as arise periodically, suitable persons should rise to\nprominence for giving direction to the disturbed minds of men in the\ngeneral dislocation of received ideas.\n\nTo understand the exact position of S. Bridget, and the work she\nwrought, it is necessary for us to look at the condition of Ireland\nbefore it received the Gospel.\n\nThe whole political organisation was tribal, and not territorial. The\nchief of the clan was almost absolute, and about him, as a centre of\nunity, the tribesmen clung, as bees about their queen.\n\nThe chiefs had their Druids or Medicine-men, who blessed their\nundertakings and cursed their enemies, and the most unbounded confidence\nwas placed in the efficacy of these blessings or curses. The Druids were\nendowed with lands, and probably in Ireland, as in Britain, constituted\nsacred tribes within the tribal confines of the secular chiefs.\n\nWhen S. Patrick arrived he at once strove to effect the conversion of\nthe chiefs, for without that his efforts with the bulk of the population\nmust fail, and the conversion of a chief entailed as a consequence that\nof his clan. The Druids, when discredited, were disposed to accept\nChristianity; where they were not, the chiefs did not disestablish them,\nbut gave to S. Patrick and his followers fresh sites on which to\nconstitute their own ecclesiastical federations, on precisely the same\nsystem as that of the Druids. S. Patrick throughout acted in the most\nconciliatory spirit; he overthrew nothing that was capable of being\nadapted, and his wise forbearance conciliated even those at first most\nopposed to him.\n\nThere can be little doubt that in Ireland, as in Gaul, there had been\ncolleges of Druidesses, as there had been of Druids. We do not know this\nby the testimony of texts, but it is more than probable. In Gaul these\nwomen were prophetesses; they lived in solitary places, often on\nislands. The nine Scen\u00e6 occupied an island in the Seine. The priestesses\nof the Namnetes lived on another at the mouth of the Loire, in huts\nabout a temple. Once in the year they were bound, between one night and\nanother, to destroy and replace the roof of their temple; and woe to the\nwoman who dropped any of the sacred materials! Instantly she was set\nupon by her sisters, and torn limb from limb.\n\nWhen S. Patrick and his missionaries entered on the prerogatives of the\nDruids, there was occasion for Christian women to usurp the places, and\nto some extent the functions, of the Druidesses. And this is precisely\nthe line adopted by S. Bridget. The year of her birth was between 451\nand 458, and she was the daughter of a slave woman, who had been sold to\na Druid. Her mother\u2019s name was Brotseach. The father, Dubtach, was a\nnominal Christian, but a thoroughly heartless and unprincipled man.\n\nThe Druid and his wife were kindly people, and provided a white cow with\nred ears, on whose milk the little child was reared, and they allowed\nonly one woman whom they could trust to milk the cow. As she grew up,\nBridget was set to keep sheep on the moors; and there, not only did she\ntend them, but she also tamed the wild birds that flew about her. Soon\nthe wild ducks and brent-geese allowed her to stroke them. When she had\ngrown old enough to be useful, she asked leave to go and see her father,\nwho lived in Leinster, whereas her mother was a slave in Ulster. The\nDruid at once gave her leave, and she left. Her father was not cordial\nin his reception of her, and set her to keep swine, and also at times to\nmanage the kitchen. On one occasion, when visited by an acquaintance, he\nbade her boil five pieces of bacon for the entertainment. Unfortunately\na hungry dog came in and carried off some of the bacon. This threw\nDubtach into a fury, and he sent her back to her mother.\n\nOn her return, Bridget found Brotseach very ill and unable to attend to\nher work. It was summer, and she had been sent with the cattle to a\nmountain pasture, such as in Wales is called a _hafod_, whereas the\nwinter habitation is the _hendr\u00ea_. There were twelve cows to be milked,\nand their butter to be made. Bridget undertook the supervision of the\ndairy with energy, and some verses have been preserved which it is said\nshe sang as she churned: \u201cOh, my Prince, who canst do all things, and\nGod, bless, I pray Thee, my kitchen with Thy right hand\u2014my kitchen, the\nkitchen blessed by the white God, blessed by the Mighty King, a kitchen\nstocked with butter. Son of Mercy, my Friend, come and look upon my\nkitchen, and give me abundance.\u201d\n\nIt was reported to the Druid that Bridget gave the buttermilk to the\npoor, and he and his wife started for the mountain dairy to see that she\nwas not wasting their substance; but they found that the butter she had\nmade was so good and so plentiful that they were satisfied. Indeed, the\nkindly old man at once gave Brotseach and Bridget their liberty, to go\nwhere they would. He and his wife had been won by their piety and\nblameless life, and gladly consented to be baptised.\n\nBridget and her mother left with thanks and tears, and went to Leinster\nto Dubtach, who was well connected and rich, but avaricious. Bridget\nparticularly annoyed him by her readiness to give food to the poor. To\nwhat extent she was justified in this may be questioned. But it must be\nremembered that the period was one in which no provision whatever was\nmade for the poor, who starved unless assisted; and the girl\u2019s tender\nheart could not endure to see their sufferings and not to relieve them.\n\nAt last Dubtach could stand it no longer, and he took her in his chariot\nto sell her into slavery, to grind at the quern for Dunlaing, son of the\nKing of Leinster. On reaching the king\u2019s _dun_, or castle, Dubtach went\nwithin and left Bridget outside in the chariot. A squalid leper came up,\nbegging. Bridget, whether out of impulsive charity, or more probably in\na fit of mischievous cunning, knowing that her father was selling her\nlike a calf or a sheep, gave to the leper the sword which Dubtach had\nleft in the chariot. The poor man at once disappeared with the gift.\nNext moment the prince and her father issued from the _dun_; the prince\ndesired to look at the girl before purchasing her. Instantly Dubtach\ndiscovered that his sword was gone, and he asked after it. \u201cI have given\nit away for your soul\u2019s good,\u201d said Bridget, with a twinkle in her eye.\n\u201cOn my word!\u201d exclaimed the prince, \u201cI cannot afford to buy such\nextravagant slaves as this.\u201d\n\nDubtach drove home in a fury, and he made his house so intolerable that\nshe resolved to embrace the monastic life. She sought Bishop Maccaille,\ntaking seven companions with her, all desiring to unite in the service\nof God and in ministering to the sick and needy.\n\nBishop Maccaille placed white veils on their heads, and blessed and\nconsecrated them. Bridget was then aged eighteen.\n\nEach of the girls chose one of the Beatitudes as her special virtue,\nwhich before all others she would seek to attain; and Bridget selected\nas hers \u201cBlessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.\u201d\n\nAn odd story was told in later times concerning this consecration. It\nwas said that Maccaille opened his book in the wrong place, and instead\nof reading the office for the consecration of a virgin, read over her\nthat for the ordination of a bishop.\n\nThis fable was invented for a purpose. As we shall see presently,\nBridget became head of an ecclesiastical tribe, and had under her\njurisdiction a bishop who was amenable to her orders. This was a\ncondition of affairs not at all uncommon among the British, Irish, and\nScots, but it was incomprehensible in medi\u00e6val times to those trained\nunder another system, when bishops were sources of jurisdiction. So this\nstory was made up to give some justification for the exercise, by the\nAbbess Bridget, of authority over a bishop and priests.\n\nIn the Life of S. Bridget we are assured that when she was twelve years\nold she met S. Patrick, and that she wove the shroud in which he was\nburied. According to the ordinary computation, S. Patrick came to\nIreland in 432, and died in 465; but Dr. Todd has shown good reason to\nbelieve that this calculation rests on an error. Palladius, whose name\nwas also Patricius, was sent to Ireland in 432 by Pope Celestine; but he\nfailed in his mission, abandoned Ireland, and died at Fordun. Neither S.\nPatrick himself, in his Confession, nor the earliest notices of him, say\na word of his having been sent by Celestine, and there is reason to\nbelieve that he really came to Ireland in 460, and died in 493. If this\nbe the case, it is quite possible that there may be truth in the story\nof the meeting of Bridget and the great apostle, and that it was his\ninfluence which induced her to adopt the life she chose. Bridget was now\nat the head of her little community of eight virgins, and they at once\ndevoted themselves to good works.\n\nVery soon great numbers of pious women came to her from every quarter,\nentreating to be received into her community and placed under her\ndirection.\n\nWe can see by the brutality of Dubtach selling the mother of his child\nto a heathen Druid, though he himself professed to be a Christian, and\nlater, deliberately attempting to sell his daughter, that women at that\ntime were treated as chattels, and no respect was paid to them. It was\nlargely due to Bridget that an immense revulsion of feeling in this\nparticular took place.\n\nShe travelled over Ireland, and, wherever she was able, planted those\nwho placed themselves in her hands near their own relatives and in their\nown country. She entered into correspondence with the bishops. She was\nwarmly seconded by Erc of Slane, by Mel of Armagh, and Ailbe of Emly.\n\nShe managed to dot her settlements through a large portion of the\nisland, and they became not only hospitals for the sick, but nurseries\nof learning, for she made a point of having the young girls confided to\nher for education taught their letters.\n\nKing Conall visited her on his way to make a raid, and to ask her\nbenediction on his arms; \u201cfor,\u201d said he, \u201cit is a mighty great pleasure\ncutting the throats of our enemies.\u201d\n\nBridget used all her endeavours to dissuade him from an unprovoked\nattack against those who were at peace with him, but she could induce\nhim to go home only on one condition\u2014that she would promise him her aid\nin all legitimate wars.\n\nSomewhat later he was engaged in a military expedition, and it had been\nsuccessful.\n\nAs he was returning, very tired, with his men, he reached a _dun_ or\ncastle, and resolved to rest there. His men dissuaded him, as the enemy\nwere in pursuit. \u201cBah!\u201d said Conall, \u201cBridget has promised to look after\nme,\u201d and he threw himself down to sleep. A great fire was lighted, and\nhis men ranged the heads of the slain they had brought with them round\nthe fire, and they themselves sat up talking and singing. Meanwhile the\nenemy came on, but they sent a spy, who crept unobserved up to the walls\nand looked in. When he saw the dead faces with the flicker of the red\nfire on them, and that Conall\u2019s men were alert, his heart failed him,\nand he went back and told his fellows that they must not risk a night\nattack on the _dun_.\n\nMany touching stories are told of Bridget\u2019s tenderness to the sick: of a\npoor consumptive boy whom she nursed; of a man who carried his mother on\nhis back for many days, that he might lay her before Bridget in the\nhopes that she might be healed of the lung complaint that afflicted her.\n\nOne day\u2014so says the legend\u2014two lepers came to her, and she bade the one\nwash the other. And he who was washed became whole. Then said she, \u201cGo\nand wash thy brother.\u201d \u201cNot I, forsooth!\u201d replied the man. \u201cI, a clean\nman, with sound skin, shall I scrub that loathsome object?\u201d \u201cThen I will\ndo it,\u201d said Bridget; and she took the poor leper and thoroughly\ncleansed him.\n\nThe truth of this story would seem to be that Bridget bade a servant\nwash the leper, that he refused, and she herself performed the office.\n\nBut she did more than attend to the sick. She saved the lives of men\ncondemned to death. On one occasion, a cupbearer to the King of Teffia\nlet fall a valuable goblet, and it was dented. The king, in a rage,\nordered the man to execution, though Bishop Mel interceded for him, but\nin vain; then Bridget got the cup, and, as she had skilful smiths under\nher, had the dents removed, so that it presented the same appearance as\nbefore, and the king was then reluctantly induced to pardon the man.\n\nShe was for a long time under the direction of Erc of Slane, in Munster.\nWhilst there, a certain anchorite, who had made a vow never to look on\nthe face of a woman, started with his disciples to go to one of the\nWestern Isles, there to establish a community. His way led near where\nBridget was. Night fell, and his disciples, not relishing spending the\nhours of darkness on the open waste, and supperless, begged him to ask\nBridget to give them food and lodging for the night. The old man\nabsolutely refused. Bridget heard of this, and when the whole company\nwas asleep she and one or two of her maids went on tiptoe to them and\ncarried off all their bundles of goods and garments. When the men woke\nnext morning everything was gone. Here was a pretty kettle of fish! Most\nreluctantly the old anchorite was obliged to swallow his objections and\ngo humbly to Bridget and beg for the restitution of the packages. \u201cVery\nwell,\u201d said she, \u201cwhen I have fed and housed you for a couple of days,\nyou shall have them,\u2014and do not hold up your nose and despise women any\nmore.\u201d So she entertained the whole party, and when they departed she\nprovided them with a couple of sumpter horses to carry their bundles for\nthem. When the anchorite arrived at the island to which he had taken a\nfancy, to his dismay he found that a man lived on it with his wife and\nsons and daughters, and claimed it as his property, and absolutely\nrefused to leave. The anchorite was forced to send for Bridget to\narrange terms, and she with difficulty bought off the proprietor. \u201cAfter\nall,\u201d said she, \u201cyou can\u2019t do without the help of women\u2014for all your\nfoolish vow.\u201d\n\nWhen with S. Erc, she must have been in that portion of King\u2019s County\nthat then belonged to the kingdom of Meath. After that she removed to\nWaterford, and remained for some time at Kilbride, near Tramore.\n\nShe heard that the King of Munster had a captive in chains very harshly\ntreated. She went to his castle to beg for the man\u2019s release, but the\nking was not at home. However, the foster-father and -mother, and\nfoster-brothers were there. They could give her no assistance. \u201cI will\nawait the king\u2019s return,\u201d said Bridget. Time began to pass heavily. She\nlooked round, and saw that harps hung in the hall. \u201cCome,\u201d said she,\n\u201clet us have some music.\u201d The foster-parents of the king expressed\nthemselves unwilling and incapable. But Bridget would take no excuse.\nTowards evening the king returned, and as he neared his hall, heard the\ntwang of harps and voices singing and laughing. He came in at the door,\nand when he saw his foster-father with a cracked voice piping out an old\nballad he laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. Every one was in\ngood humour, and he could not refuse Bridget her request.\n\nBridget next moved into Leinster, apparently to the district of Kinsale.\nShe had not seen her father for some time, so now she went to visit him.\nHe was not more amiable as he advanced in years. With difficulty she\nwithdrew from him a servant maid, whom he was thrashing unmercifully.\nWhen she left, the maid said to her, \u201cOh! would to heaven you were\nalways here, to save us from the master\u2019s violence!\u201d\n\nShe\u2014who had been a slave-girl herself\u2014was pitiful to these poor things.\nSome runaway slave-girls took refuge with her, and she had hard work\nsometimes to reconcile their mistresses to leaving them under her\nprotection.\n\nBefore she left her father, the old fellow asked her to get the king to\nlet him keep as his own property a sword the prince had lent him.\nBridget went to the castle. No sooner had she arrived than one of the\nking\u2019s men entreated her to take him into her tribe. So she asked the\nking to give her the man, and give her father the sword.\n\n\u201cYou ask a great deal,\u201d said he. \u201cI must have something in return.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall I demand of God for you Life Eternal, and a continuation of\nroyalty in your house?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs to Life Eternal,\u201d said the king, \u201cI know nothing about it; and as to\nroyalty after I am dead, the boys of my family must fight for their own\ncrowns. Give me victory over my enemies.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will obtain that for you,\u201d she said. And on this being promised he\nacceded to both her requests.\n\nThis is a very characteristic story of an Irish saint. The kings and\nprinces firmly believed that the saints could give them a place in\nheaven and victory over their foes, could continue their line in power,\nor deprive their posterity of sovereign rights.\n\nThis king was Illand, son of Dunlaing. Soon after this interview he went\ninto the plain of Breagh, west of Dublin, where he fought the Ulster men\nand defeated them. After this he waged as many as thirty battles in\nIreland, and gained eight victories in Britain. He died in 506. On his\ndeath the clan of Niall, taking courage, gathered their forces to attack\nthe men of Leinster, who actually dug up the body of the old king, set\nit in a chariot, clothed in his regal garments, and marched against the\nmen of the north, headed by the corpse.\n\nBridget now went into Connaught, and founded an establishment there. It\nwas whilst there that an incident characteristic of the times occurred.\n\nShe had under her charge a poor decrepit woman who was failing rapidly.\n\u201cThe old creature can\u2019t live,\u201d said one of Bridget\u2019s women. \u201cLet us\nstrip her at once. It is bitter weather and frosty, and it will be\nawkward to get her garments off her back when she is stiff and stark.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn no account,\u201d said Bridget. And when the cripple died she with her\nown hands divested the body of its clothing, then laid the garments\noutside the door in the frost, and washed them finally herself.\n\nBridget and some of her spiritual daughters paid a visit to S. Ibar of\nBegery. He served them at supper with bacon. Bridget saw two of the\ngirls sitting with their platters before them and their noses turned up;\nthey would not touch the food. She was very angry, jumped up from her\nseat, caught them by the shoulders, and turned them out of the hall, and\nbade them stand there, one on each side of the door, till supper was\nover. She had run short of seed-corn, and had gone to beg some of Ibar.\nThe season was probably Lent, and the scruple of the girls was on that\naccount.\n\nWhen S. Bridget first saw the great plain of Breagh stretched before\nher, it was in early summer, and it was as though snowed over with the\nwhite clover, and the air that breathed from it was sweet with scent and\nmusical with the hum of bees. She stood still, raised her hands in an\necstasy of delight, and said: \u201cOh! if this plain were but mine, I would\ngive it all to God!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood woman!\u201d said S. Columba, when he was told this of Bridget. \u201cGod\naccepted the desire of her loving heart just as surely as if she really\nhad made to Him the donation of all that land.\u201d\n\nOnce a bishop and a party of clerks arrived, and began to inquire when\nthey were to have a meal and what they were to have to eat.\n\n\u201cIt is all very well for you to be so clamorous,\u201d said Bridget, \u201cfor you\nare hungry. But can you not understand that I and my spiritual daughters\nare hungry also? We have no religious teacher here, and we long to hear\nthe Word of God. Will you not give us who are hungry the nourishment of\nsouls before you call on us to satisfy your stomachs?\u201d\n\nThe bishop was ashamed, and led the way to the church.\n\nIt happened that there was a couple who led a cat-and-dog life, and at\nlast declared that they could not live together, and that they would\nseparate. Bridget went to them, and by her charm of manner and earnest\nwords so won them over that thenceforth they came to love each other\ndevotedly. So much so, that one day when the husband left home to cross\nan estuary, without saying good-bye, the wife ran after him into the\nwater, and would have been drowned had he not returned to kiss her.\n\nThere was a madman who wandered on the mountain\u2014Slive Forait. Bridget\nwas crossing it, and her companions were in deadly fear of encountering\nthe maniac. \u201cI fear him not,\u201d said she; \u201cI will go and find him.\u201d\n\nBefore long she encountered the poor wretch. She said to him, \u201cMy\nfriend, have you anything to say to me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, nun,\u201d answered he: \u201cLove the Lord, and all will love thee.\nReverence the Lord, and all will reverence thee. I cannot avoid thee, O\nnun, thou art so pitiful to all the miserable and poor.\u201d\n\nThe life she led with the sisters was full of simplicity. She took her\nturn to tend the sheep, she helped to brew the Easter ale which she sent\nabout to the bishops as her offering.\n\nThe following is a funny story.\n\nCertain friends came to visit Bridget, and they left their house shut\nwithout a caretaker in it. When they were well away, some robbers came,\nbroke open the byre and stole the oxen, and drove them away to the\nLiffey. They had to cross the river at a ford, but the water was deep,\nso the men stripped themselves, and that their garments might be kept\ndry, attached them to the horns of the cattle. But no sooner were the\noxen in the water than they refused to proceed, and, turning, galloped\nhome, carrying away the clothing of the robbers on their heads.\n\nHaving such large numbers of women under her direction, Bridget was\nobliged to draw up for them a set of rules. An odd legend attaches to\nthe rules. She sent, so it was told, seven men and a poor blind boy, who\nwas in her service, to Rome to obtain a rule. But as they were crossing\nthe English Channel, the anchor caught. They drew lots who was to go\ndown and release the anchor. The lot fell to the blind boy. He\ndescended, unhooked the anchor, and it was hauled up, but left him\nbehind. The seven went on, and returned at the end of the year, and were\nwithout any rule. As they were crossing the Channel, again the anchor\ncaught, but it became disengaged, and up with it came the boy, and he\nhad a Rule of Life with him, acquired in the depths, and this he took to\nBridget, and it became her famous rule for all her communities. Perhaps\nthe story originated thus. It was said that she had sent to Rome for a\nsystem of monastic discipline, but as none came to her, she fished up\none out of the depths of her own conscience and common-sense.\n\nBridget certainly to the utmost strove to show forth the grace of Mercy,\nwhich she had elected as that for which she would specially strive, when\nshe was veiled. Poor lepers were kept by her attached to her convent,\nand fed and administered to by her.\n\nOne day a woman brought her a hamper of apples. \u201cOh!\u201d cried Bridget,\n\u201chow pleased my lepers will be with them!\u201d The woman angrily said, \u201cI\nbrought the apples for you, and not for a parcel of lepers.\u201d\n\nOn another occasion, when Bishop Conlaeth came to vest for the\nEucharist, he found that his chasuble was gone. In fact, Bridget had cut\nit up and made of it a garment for a leper. Conlaeth was not\noverpleased. \u201cI cannot celebrate without a proper vestment,\u201d said he.\n\u201cWait a moment,\u201d said Bridget, and ran away. Presently she returned with\none she had made and embroidered with her own hands, and gave it to him\nin place of that she had disposed of to the leper.\n\nA poor fellow who had gone to prefer a petition to the King of Leinster,\nsaw a fox playing about in his _cashel_ (_i.e._ castle). Not knowing\nthat it was tame, and a pet of the king, he killed it. The king, Illand,\nwas furious, threw the fellow into chains and vowed he would have him\nput to death. Bridget heard of it, and at once went to see him, and took\nwith her a fox that had just been trapped. She offered the fox to\nIlland, on condition that he should let the man go. The king, supposing\nit was tame, consented. No sooner was the fellow released than Bridget\nlet go her fox, when away dashed Reynard across the _dun_ and over the\nwalls, and was seen no more. \u201cI have not got the best of this bargain,\u201d\nsaid the king.\n\nIn or about the year 480 she founded her mother house at Kildare\u2014\u201cThe\nCell of the Oak.\u201d She was granted land and a sanctuary, with\njurisdiction over all who lived on her land. Thus she became a great\necclesiastical chieftainess, ruling not over women only, but over men as\nwell. Indeed, it would seem that schools for youths were also under her.\nTo regulate sacred matters in her tribe, she chose a bishop named\nConlaeth, who was a good smith in the precious metals, and could\nmanufacture bells.\n\nIn the great house of Kildare little children were taken charge of,\neither because orphans, or because given to the sisters by their\nparents. Tighernach, Bishop of Clones, was one of these. As a babe,\nBridget held him at the font, and his infant years were under her care.\nHe ever remained deeply attached to her. Perhaps it may be taken as a\ntoken of his affection that when he founded a church in Cornwall, a\nchapel dedicated to his foster-mother should have been planted in\nproximity.\n\nOne who deeply reverenced her was the famous S. Brendan, who sailed for\nseven years on the Atlantic in quest of the Land of Promise. Once he was\nin conversation with her, and he said to her, \u201cTell me, Bridget, about\nyour spiritual things. For my part I may say that, since I have learned\nto love and fear God, I have not stepped across nine furrows without my\nmind turning to Him.\u201d\n\nBridget thought for a moment and said, \u201cI do not think, Brendan, that my\nmind has ever strayed from Him.\u201d\n\nAs her age advanced, her influence extended throughout Ireland. Swarms\nof her spiritual children must have crossed to Wales, to Devon and\nCornwall, to Brittany, for we find in all these districts dedications to\nher; and these dedications signify churches placed under the rule of her\ncongregation. It may indeed be said that it was she who initiated a\ngreat upheaval of woman from being a mere slave to become a revered\nmember of the social body.\n\nThere was no woman in the British Church, either in Wales or Alba, which\nwe now call Scotland, who occupied the same position. In Saxon England\nthe only woman who at all approached her was S. Hilda, and she was not,\nlike Bridget, an originator.\n\nConlaeth, Bridget\u2019s bishop, died in 519. She was sought, consulted by\nprinces and by prelates. The sour Gildas, author of the \u201cHistory of the\nBritons,\u201d if he did not pay her a visit, sent her as token of his esteem\nthe present of a small bell, cast by himself.\n\nNothing particular is recorded of her last illness. She received the\nCommunion from the hands of S. Nennid, whom years before she had gently\nreproved for his giddiness, and she died on February 1st, 525. According\nto some accounts she was aged seventy, according to others seventy-four.\n\nThere are two old Irish hymns in honour of her. One begins:\n\n                       \u201cBridget, ever good woman,\n                        Flame-golden, sparkling.\u201d\n\nThis is variously attributed to S. Columba, S. Ultan, and S. Brendan.\nThe other hymn is by S. Broccan, who died in 650.\n\nBoth may be found in the Irish \u201cLiber Hymnorum,\u201d recently issued by the\n\u201cHenry Bradshaw Society.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                                   X\n\n                       _THE DAUGHTERS OF BRIDGET_\n\n\nThe story of the introduction of Christianity into Ireland is altogether\nso interesting, that it may be well to add something further to what has\nalready been told of S. Bridget, and to the story of S. Itha. In the\nevangelisation of the Emerald Isle, woman had her place beside man, and\nS. Bridget and S. Itha played their part as effectually as did S.\nPatrick and S. Benignus.\n\nLet us first see what the paganism of the Irish consisted in, and what\nwas their social condition before S. Patrick preached, so that we may be\nable to realise to some degree what a revolution was effected by the\nintroduction of the Gospel.\n\nThe heathen Irish certainly adored idols; one of the principal of these\nwas Cromm Cruaich, which is said to have been the chief idol of Ireland.\nIt is said to have been of gold, and to have been surrounded by twelve\nlesser idols of stone. To this Cromm Cruaich the Irish were wont to\nsacrifice their children. There still exists an old poem that mentions\nthis:\n\n                \u201cMilk and corn\n                 They sought of him urgently,\n                 For a third of their offspring,\n                 Great was its horror and its wailing.\u201d\n\nThen there were the _Side_ worshipped. We do not know what these were,\nbut it is thought that they were the spirits of ancestors. The sun also\nreceived adoration, so did wells. S. Patrick went to the well of Slan,\nand there he was told that the natives venerated it as a god; it was the\nKing of Waters, and they believed that an old dead _faith_ or prophet\nlay in it under a great stone that covered the well. S. Patrick moved\nthe slab aside, and so destroyed the sanctity of the well.\n\nThere can be no doubt that polygamy existed: Bridget\u2019s father had a wife\nin addition to Brotseach, her mother; and S. Patrick, like S. Paul, had\nto insist that those whom he consecrated as bishops should be husbands\nof one wife.\n\nWomen were in low repute; they were required to go into battle and fight\nalong with the men, and it was only on the urgency of Adamnan in the\nsynod of Drumceatt, in 574, that they were exempted. A man could sell\nhis daughter\u2014it was so with Dubtach and Bridget. In the life of S.\nIlltyt, a Welsh Knight, it is told how one stormy morning, when he\nwanted to have his strayed horses collected, he pushed his wife out of\nher bed and sent her without any clothes on to drive the horses\ntogether. There is no doubt but the Irish husbands were quite as brutal.\n\nThere is a very curious story in the life of S. Patrick. He was desirous\nof revisiting his old master Miliuc with whom he had been a slave as a\nlad, and from whom he had run away. His hope was to convert Miliuc, and\nto propitiate him with a double ransom. But the old heathen, frightened\nat his approach, and unwilling to receive him and listen to his Gospel,\nburned himself alive in his house with all his substance. This seems to\npoint to the Indian _Dharna_ having been customary in Ireland.\n\nWhen S. Patrick converted the Irish he dealt very gently with such of\ntheir customs as were harmless. The wells they so reverenced he\nconverted into baptisteries, and the pillar-stones they venerated he\nrendered less objectionable by cutting crosses on them. The Druids wore\nwhite raiment, and had their heads tonsured; he made his clergy adopt\nboth the white habit and the tonsure.\n\nThe oak was an object of reverence, and S. Bridget set up her cell under\nan ancient oak. She did not cut it down, and when people came on\npilgrimage to it, taught them of Christ, from under its leafy boughs.\n\nThere was another relic of paganism that was not ruthlessly rejected.\nThe ancient Irish venerated fire. Now, in Ireland, where the atmosphere\nis so charged with moisture, it is not easy to procure fire by rubbing\nsticks together, as it would be in Italy or Africa. Consequently it was\na matter of extreme importance that fires should not be allowed to be\nextinguished. It was the custom among the early Latins that there should\nbe in every village a circular hut in which the fire was kept ever\nburning, and the unmarried girls were expected and obliged to attend to\nit; and if by the fault of any it became extinguished, then her life was\nforfeit.\n\nAs the Romans became more civilised, the central hut was called the\nTemple of Vesta, or Hestia,\u2014the Hearth-fire; and a certain number of\nvirgins was chosen, and invested with great privileges, whose duty it\nwas never to allow it to die out.\n\nNow, it was much the same in Ireland, and it was more important there to\nkeep fire always burning, than it was in the drier air of Italy. S.\nBridget undertook that she and her nuns should keep the sacred fire from\nextinction, and Kildare became the centre from which fire could always\nbe procured. The fire was twice extinguished, once by the Normans and\nagain at the Reformation, finally.\n\nThe monastery of Kildare had a _les_ about it\u2014that is to say, it was\nenclosed within a bank and moat; the buildings were, however, of wood\nand wattle. This we know from a story in the Life of S. Bridget. When\nshe was about laying out her monastery, a hundred horses arrived laden\nwith \u201cpeeled rods,\u201d for Ailill, son of that very prince Dunlaing who had\nrefused to buy her when he found she had given away her father\u2019s sword.\nSome of the girls ran to beg for the poles, but were refused. As,\nhowever, some of the horses fell down under their burdens, which were\nexcessive, Ailill gave way and supplied them with stakes and wattles. He\nvery good-naturedly allowed his horses to bring to Bridget as many more\nas were required, free of cost. \u201cAnd,\u201d says the writer, \u201ctherewith was\nbuilt S. Bridget\u2019s great house in Kildare.\u201d\n\nAll the sisters wore white flannel habits, and on their heads white\nveils. Each had her own cell, but all met for Divine worship and for\nmeals. During the latter, Bridget\u2019s bishop Conlaeth read aloud to them.\n\nBridget travelled about a great deal, visiting her several communities,\nin a car or chariot; and her driver was at her desire ordained priest,\nso that as she sat in her conveyance, he could turn his head over his\nshoulder and preach to her and the sisters with her. One day Bridget\nsaid: \u201cThis is inconvenient. Turn bodily about, that we may hear you the\nbetter, and as for the reins, throw them down. The horses will jog\nalong.\u201d\n\nSo he cast the reins over the front of the chariot, and addressed his\ndiscourse to them with his back to the horses. Unhappily, one of these\nlatter took advantage of the occasion, and slipped its neck from the\nyoke, and ran free; and so engrossed were Bridget and her companion in\nthe sermon of the priestly coachman, that they discovered nothing till\nthey were nearly upset.\n\nOn another occasion, she and one of her nuns were being driven over a\ncommon near the Liffey, when they came to a long hedge, for a man had\nenclosed a portion of the common. But Bridget\u2019s driver had no relish for\nsuch encroachments, and determined to assert his \u201cright of way,\u201d so he\nprepared to drive over the hedge. Bridget told him to go round, but not\nhe\u2014he would assert his right. Over went the chariot with such a bounce,\nthat away flew the coachman, Bridget, and her nun, like rockets; and\nwhen they picked themselves up were all badly bruised, and Bridget\u2019s\nhead was cut open. She had it bound up, and continued her journey. When\nshe got home she consulted her physician, who with shrewd sense said,\n\u201cLeave it alone. Nature is your best doctor.\u201d\n\nIn the \u201cBook of Leinster,\u201d compiled in the twelfth century, is a list of\nsaintly virgins who were trained under S. Bridget. It is, however, by no\nmeans complete. A few words shall be devoted to some of them. One, very\nyoung, had been committed to Bridget when quite a child. Her name was\nDarlugdach. She slept with Bridget, her foster-mother. Now, as she grew\nto be a big girl, she became restive, and impatient of the restraints of\nthe convent life at Kildare, and she had formed a plan with another to\nrun away.\n\nThe night on which she had resolved on leaving the monastery she was, as\nusual, sleeping in the same bed with Bridget; and she laid herself in\nher bosom, her heart fluttering with excitement, and with her mind at\nconflict between love of her foster-mother and desire to be out and free\nas a bird.\n\nAt last she rose, and in an agony of uncertainty cast herself on her\nknees, and besought God to strengthen her to remain where she knew she\nwould be safe. Then, in the vehemence of her resolve, she thrust her\nnaked feet before the red coals that glowed on the hearth, and held them\nthere till she could bear it no longer, and limped back to bed, and\nnestled again into the bosom of the holy mother.\n\nWhen morning broke, Bridget rose, and looked at the scorched soles of\nDarlugdach, and touching them said gently, \u201cI was not asleep, my darling\nchild. I was awake and aware of your struggle, but I allowed you to\nfight it out bravely by yourself. Now that you have conquered, you need\nnot fear this temptation again.\u201d\n\nDarlugdach, when S. Bridget was dying, clung to her, in floods of tears,\nand entreated her spiritual mother to allow her to die with her. But S.\nBridget promised that she should follow speedily\u2014but not yet. Now, on\nthe very anniversary of S. Bridget\u2019s departure, next year, Darlugdach\nfell ill of a fever and died.\n\nAnother of Bridget\u2019s nuns was named Dara, who was blind\u2014indeed, had been\nborn without sight.\n\nOne evening Bridget and Dara sat together and talked all night of the\njoys of Paradise. And their hearts were so full that the hours of\ndarkness passed without their being aware how time sped; and lo! above\nthe Wicklow mountains rose the golden sun, and in the glorious light the\nsky flashed, and the river glittered, and all creation awoke. Then\nBridget sighed, because she knew that Dara\u2019s eyes were closed to all\nthis beauty. So\u2014the legend tells\u2014she bowed her head in prayer; and\npresently God wrought a great miracle, for the eyes of the blind woman\nopened, and she saw the golden ball in the east, and the purple\nmountains, the trees, and the flowers glittering in the morning dew. She\ncried out with delight. Now for the first time she\u2014\n\n                \u201cSaw a bush of flowering elder,\n                    And dog-daisies in its shade,\n                 Tufted meadow-sweet entangled\n                    In a blushing wild-rose braid.\n\n                \u201cSaw a distant sheet of water\n                    Flashing like a fallen sun;\n                 Saw the winking of the ripples\n                    Where the mountain torrents run.\n\n                \u201cSaw the peaceful arch of heaven,\n                    With a cloudlet on the blue,\n                 Like a white bird winging homeward\n                    With its feathers drenched in dew.\u201d\n\nThen Dara tried to lift up her heart to God in thanksgiving; but her\nattention was distracted,\u2014now it was a bird, then a flower, then a\nchange in the light,\u2014and she could not fix her mind on God. Then a\nsadness came upon her, and she cried\u2014\n\n                            \u201c\u2018O my Saviour!\u2019\n                    With a sudden grief oppressed,\u2014\n                \u2018Be Thy will, not mine, accomplished;\n                    Give me what Thou deemest best.\u2019\n\n                \u201cThen once more the clouds descended,\n                    And the eyes again waxed dark;\n                 All the splendour of the sunlight\n                    Faded to a dying spark.\n\n                \u201cBut the clos\u00e8d heart expanded\n                   Like the flower that blooms at night\n                 Whilst, as Philomel, the spirit\n                   Chanted to the waning light.\u201d\n\nAgain, another of Bridget\u2019s nuns was Brunseach; she, however, went,\nprobably on Bridget\u2019s death, to a religious house that had been founded\nby S. Kieran of Saighir, over which he had set his mother, Liadhain.\n\nShe was young and beautiful, and Dioma, the chief of the country of the\nHy Fiachach, came by violence and carried her off to his _dun_ or\ncastle.\n\nKieran was angry, and at once seizing his staff, went to the residence\nof the prince, and demanded that she should be surrendered to him. The\nchief shut his gates and refused to admit the saint. Kieran remained\noutside, although it was winter, and declared he would not return\nwithout her.\n\nDuring the night there was a heavy fall of snow, but the saint would not\nleave. Then Dioma, taunting him, said, \u201cCome, I will let her go on one\ncondition, that to-morrow I hear the stork, and that he awake me from\nsleep.\u201d\n\nAnd actually next morning there was a stork perched on the palisade of\nthe _dun_, and was uttering its peculiar cries. The tyrant arose in\nalarm, threw himself before the saint, and dismissed the damsel.\n\nHowever, he had quailed only for a while, and presently renewed his\npersecution. Brunseach, according to the legend, died of fright, but was\nbrought to life again by S. Kieran\u2014that is to say, she fainted and was\nrevived.\n\nThe story is late, and has become invested in fable; but so much of it\nis true, that Brunseach was carried off by Dioma, and that Kieran\nmanaged to get her restored.\n\nIt was perhaps through the annoyance caused by the prince that he\nresolved to leave Ireland. He settled in Cornwall. But he had taken with\nhim his old nurse and Brunseach, and he found for them suitable\nhabitations there. Kieran himself was there called Piran, and he founded\nseveral churches. That of his nurse in the Cornish peninsula is Ladock,\nand Brunseach is known there as S. Buriana.\n\n\u201cNothing has been recorded of her life and labours in Cornwall, except\nthe general tradition that she spent her days in good works and great\nsanctity; but the place where she dwelt was regarded as holy ground for\ncenturies, and can still be pointed out. It lies about a mile south-east\nof the parish church which bears her name, beside a rivulet on the farm\nof Bosleven; and the spot is called the Sentry, or Sanctuary. The\ncrumbling ruins of an ancient structure still remain there, and traces\nof extensive foundations have been found adjoining them. If not the\nactual ruins, they probably occupy the site of the oratory in which\nAthelstan, after vanquishing the Cornish king, knelt at the shrine of\nthe saint, and made his memorable vow that, if God would crown his\nexpedition to the Scilly Isles with success, he would on his return\nbuild and endow there a church and college in token of his gratitude,\nand in memory of his victories.\n\n\u201cIt was on that wild headland, about four miles from Land\u2019s End, that S.\nBuriana took up her abode; and a group of saints from Ireland, who were\nprobably her friends and companions, and who seem to have landed on our\nshores at the same time, occupied contiguous parts of the same district.\nThere she watched and prayed with such devotion, that the fame of her\ngoodness found its way back to her native land; and thenceforth\nBrunseach the Slender, by which designation she had been known there,\nwas enrolled in the catalogue of the Irish saints; but her Christian\nzeal was spent in the Cornish parish that perpetuates her name.\u201d[4]\n\nBridget had two disciples of the name of Brig or Briga. This was by no\nmeans an uncommon name. A sister of S. Brendan was so called.\n\nAnother was Kiara, and this virgin we perhaps meet with again in\nCornwall as Piala, the sister of Fingar. Amongst the Welsh and Cornish\nthe hard sound K became P, thus _Ken_ (head), was pronounced _Pen_; so\nS. Kieran became Piran.\n\nFingar and his sister formed a part of a great colony of emigrants who\nstarted for Cornwall. Fingar had settled in Brittany, but he returned to\nIreland and persuaded his sister to leave the country with him. This she\nwas the more inclined to do as she was being forced into marriage in\nspite of her monastic vows. They left Ireland with the intention of\ngoing back to Brittany, but were carried by adverse winds to Cornwall,\nand landed at Hayle.\n\nKing Tewdrig, who had a palace hard by, did not relish the arrival of a\nhost of Irish, and he set upon them and massacred most of them. Kiara,\nhowever, was not molested, though her brother was killed. She settled\nwhere is now the parish church of Phillack. The scene of her brother\u2019s\nmartyrdom was Gwynear, hard by. She probably did not care to leave the\nproximity to his grave; she had no one to go with to Armorica, and it\nseems likely that a larger body of Irish came over shortly after,\noccupied all the west part of Cornwall, and so made her condition more\ntolerable.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. ITHA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                   XI\n\n                               _S. ITHA_\n\n\nWhat Bridget was for Leinster, that was Itha or Ita for Munster; and\nfrom the way in which her cult spread through Devon and Cornwall, we are\nled to suspect that there were a good many religious houses and churches\nin the ancient kingdom of Damnonia that were under her rule, and looked\nto Killeedy in Limerick as their mother-house.\n\nS. Itha was a shoot of the royal family of the Nandesi, in the present\ncounty of Waterford. Her father\u2019s name was Kennfoelad, and her mother\u2019s\nwas Nect. They were Christians, as appears from the fact of S. Itha\nhaving been baptised in childhood.\n\nShe was born about 480, and probably at an early date received the veil\n\u201cin the Church of God of the clan.\u201d\n\nUnfortunately we have not the life of S. Itha in a very early form; it\ncomes to us sadly corrupted with late fables foisted in to magnify the\nmiraculous powers of the saint.\n\nShe moved to the foot of Mount Luachra, in Hy Conaill, and founded the\nmonastery of Cluain Credhuil, now Killeedy, in a wild and solitary\nregion, backed by the mountains of Mullaghareirk, and on a stream that\nis a confluent of the Deel, which falls into the Shannon at Askaton.\n\nThe chief of the clan or sept of Hy Conaill offered her a considerable\ntract of land for the support of her establishment, but she refused to\nreceive more than was sufficient for a modest garden.\n\nLet us try to get some idea of what one of these monasteries was like.\n\nIn the first place a ditch and a bank were drawn round the space that\nwas to be occupied, and the summit of the bank was further protected by\na palisade of stakes with osier wattling. In such places as were stony,\nand where no earthwork could well be made, in place of a bank, there was\na wall.\n\nWithin the enclosure were a number of beehive-shaped cells, either of\nwattle or of stone and turf. Certainly the favourite style of building\nwas with wood; but of course all such wooden structures have perished,\nwhereas some of those of stone have been preserved. There were churches,\napparently small, and a refectory, bakehouses, and a brewery and\nstorehouses.\n\nOutside the defensive wall of enclosure lived the retainers of the\nabbey. Where an abbot or abbess was head of an ecclesiastical tribe, he\nor she was bound to find land for each household: nine furrows of arable\nland, nine of bog, nine of grass-land, and as much of forest. As the\npopulation increased, a secular or an ecclesiastical chief was obliged\nto obtain an extension of territory, or would be held to have forfeited\nhis claims as a chief. This led to incessant feud among the Celtic\nprinces; it forced the saints to be continually striving to obtain fresh\ngrants of land and make fresh settlements. When there was no more chance\nof obtaining land in Ireland, they sent swarms to Britain and to\nBrittany, to found colonies there, under the jurisdiction of the saint.\nThis explains the way in which the Celtic saints were incessantly moving\nabout. They were forced to do so to extend their lands so as to find\nfarms for their vassals.\n\nA very terrible story is told of the condition of affairs in Ireland in\n657. The population of the island had increased to such an extent that\nthe chiefs could not find land enough for the people. Dermot and\nBlaithmac, the kings, summoned an assembly of clergy and nobles to\ndiscuss the situation and consider a remedy. They concluded that the\n\u201celders\u201d should put up prayer to the Almighty to send a pestilence, \u201cto\nreduce the number of the lower class, that the rest might live in\ncomfort.\u201d S. Fechin of Fore, on being consulted, approved of this\nextraordinary petition. And the prayer was answered from heaven, but the\nvengeance of God fell mainly on the nobles and clergy, for the Yellow\nPlague which ensued, which swept away at least a third of the\npopulation, fell with special heaviness on the nobles and clergy, of\nwhom multitudes, including the two kings and S. Fechin of Fore, were\ncarried off.\n\nS. Itha does not seem to have coveted land, and she assumed a different\nposition from that taken by S. Bridget. She was not an independent\nchieftainess over a sacred tribe, but acted as prophetess to the secular\ntribe of the Hy Conaill. Just as among the Germans, the warriors had\ntheir wise women who attended the tribe, blessed the arms of the\nwarriors, and uttered oracles, so was it among the Celts; and we are\nassured that the entire sept, or clan, unanimously adopted S. Itha as\ntheir religious directress and, in fact, wise woman. In such cases, when\na prophecy came true, when a military undertaking blessed by the Saint\nproved successful, the usage was, that an award was made in perpetuity\nto him or to her, a tax imposed that must be paid regularly by the\ntribe.\n\nThus there were two ways by which a Celtic saint might subsist\u2014either as\nan independent chieftain over a sacred tribe, or as the patroness or\nprophetess of a tribe, not owning much land, but drawing a revenue from\nthe sept or clan.\n\nWe have a very curious illustration of this in the life of S. Findcua,\nwho was the great seer and prophet of Munster. He blessed the arms of\nthe king seven times in as many battles, and was rewarded for each; he\nreceived tribute in this wise: \u201cThe first calf, and the first lamb, and\nthe first pig,\u201d from every farm for ever. \u201cFor every homestead a sack of\nmalt, with a corresponding supply of food yearly.\u201d\n\nNow there is not a trace of S. Itha having allowed herself on any\noccasion to degrade herself to blessing and cursing, blessing the arms\nof the Leinster men and covering their foes with imprecations. She\nsucceeded in inspiring the whole of the people with such reverence, that\nthey were ready to receive what she declared as a message from God, and\nshe used this position for no other object than that of advancing God\u2019s\nkingdom, stirring up to good works, encouraging peace, and restraining\nviolence. She showed no eagerness for gifts. On one occasion a wealthy\nman, to whom she had rendered a service, insisted on forcing money on\nher. She at once withdrew her hand, absolutely refused it, and to show\nhim her determination, washed her hands that, she said, had been defiled\nby contact with his filthy lucre. God\u2019s gifts were not to be traded\nwith, and profit must not be made out of an office such as that filled\nby her.\n\nParents, desirous of having their children brought up to the\necclesiastical state, committed them to her; and thus she became the\nfoster-mother of S. Pulcherius or Mochoemoc, of S. Cumine, and S.\nBrendan. The latter was committed to her when one year old, and she kept\nhim with her till he was five. Throughout his life Brendan retained not\nmerely the tenderest love for Itha, but such a reverence that he\nconsulted her in all matters of importance.\n\nOne day Brendan asked her what three works were, in her opinion, most\nwell-pleasing to God. She replied, \u201cFaith out of a pure heart, sincerity\nof life, and tender charity.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what,\u201d further asked Brendan, \u201cwhat are most displeasing to God?\u201d\n\n\u201cA spiteful tongue, a love of what smacks of evil, and avarice,\u201d was her\nready reply.\n\nBrendan, as a little fellow, was the pet of the community, and all the\nsisters loved to have him and dance him in their arms. In the life of S.\nBrendan is inserted a snatch from an older Irish ballad concerning him:\n\n                \u201cAngels in shape of virgins white\n                   This little babe did tend.\n                 From hand to hand, fair forms of light,\n                   Sweet faces o\u2019er him bend.\u201d\n\nS. Erc, Bishop of Slane, seems to have been Itha\u2019s principal adviser and\nfriend; and when the five years of Brendan\u2019s fostering were over, Erc\ntook the little boy away to teach him the Psalms and the Gospels. S. Erc\nfound it rather hard to keep the boy supplied with milk, but a hind with\nher fawn, so says the legend, was caught, and gave her milk to Brendan.\n\nIt may be asked, What was the mode of life of the community of S. Itha?\n\nUnhappily we do not know so much of that of the religious women as we do\nof that of the monasteries of men, yet we cannot doubt that the rule of\nthe house for women much resembled that in the others. Here is an\naccount of the order as given in the life of S. Brioc, an Irishman by\nrace, though born in Cardigan.\n\n\u201cAt fixed hours they all assembled in the church to celebrate divine\nworship. After the office of vespers (6 p.m.) they refreshed their\nbodies by a common meal. Then, having said compline, they dispersed in\nsilence to their beds. At midnight they rose and assembled to sing\ndevoutly psalms and hymns to the glory of God. Then they returned to\ntheir beds. But at cockcrow, at the sound of the bell, they sprang from\ntheir couches to sing lauds. From the conclusion of this office to the\nsecond hour (8 a.m.) they were engaged in spiritual exercises and\nprayer. Then they cheerfully betook them to manual labour.\u201d\n\nHappily one of the monastic offices of the early Irish Church has been\ndeciphered from a nearly obliterated leaf of the Irish MS. _Book of\nMulling_: it consisted of the Magnificat. What preceded this is\nillegible: some verses of a hymn; the reading of the Beatitudes from the\nSermon on the Mount, a hymn of S. Secundinus, a commemoration of S.\nPatrick, a portion of a hymn by S. Hilary of Poitiers, the Apostles\u2019\nCreed, the Lord\u2019s prayer, and a collect.\n\nThe work of the day consisted in teaching the young girls their letters,\nin needlework, tending the cattle\u2014in which each, abbess included, took\nturn\u2014grinding corn in the handmill, and cultivating the garden.\n\nNumerous visitors arrived to consult S. Itha, and she most certainly had\nfixed hours in which to receive them.\n\nOne striking instance of the veneration in which she was held is that S.\nCoemgen of Glendalough, when dying, sent to entreat her to come to him;\nhe would have no one else minister to him in his last sickness, and he\nbegged her, when he expired to place her hand over his mouth and close\nit.\n\nOne Beoan was a famous artificer; he was a native of Connaught. He went\nto Itha and passed into her service; but was summoned by his military\nchief to attend him in one of his raids. He departed most reluctantly.\nItha was greatly distressed at losing him. As he did not return after a\nskirmish, she went to the scene of the encounter, and found him\ngrievously wounded, but still living. Under her fostering care he\nrecovered. According to late legend, his head had been cut off and\nthrown away. She found his body but not his head, so she called \u201cBeoan!\nBeoan!\u201d Whereupon the head came flying through the air to her, and she\nset it on again. So a very simple transaction was magnified into a\nridiculous fable.\n\nAfter leaving her, S. Brendan went about with Bishop Erc in his waggon,\nfrom which the bishop preached to the people. One day when Erc was\naddressing a crowd, Brendan was in the back of the waggon, looking over\nthe side, clearly not attending to the sermon. Then a small,\nfair-haired, rosy-faced girl came near, and seeing the little fellow\npeeping over the side, she tried to scramble up the waggon-wheel to get\nto Brendan and play with him. But he laid hold of the reins and lashed\nher with them, so that she was forced to desist, and fell back crying.\nErc was much annoyed at Brendan\u2019s conduct, and sent him into the\nblack-hole in punishment.\n\nSome years later, Itha required Brendan to come to her: she was in great\ntrouble, and needed his assistance. He went accordingly, and with many\ntears she told him that one of her pupils had run away some time before,\nand had fallen into very bad courses, which had led at last to her being\nreduced to be a slave-girl in Connaught. Would he go in search of her\nand bring her back, with assurance that everything would be forgiven and\nforgotten?\n\nBrendan readily undertook the task, and succeeded in redeeming the girl\nand restoring her to her spiritual mother.\n\nNow Brendan himself got into trouble. He had gone with a boat one day to\nan island, taking with him two lads, one quite young. He left one boy in\ncharge of the boat, and advanced up the land with the other. Then this\nlatter said to him, \u201cMaster, the tide will rise before we get back, and\nI am sure my little brother cannot manage the boat alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe silent,\u201d retorted Brendan. \u201cDo you suppose that I do not care for\nhim as much as you do yourself?\u201d\n\nAfter a while the young man returned to the matter. \u201cI am sure,\u201d said\nhe, \u201cit is not safe to leave the boy unassisted. The current runs very\nstrong.\u201d\n\n\u201cBad luck to you!\u201d said Brendan, flaming up,\u2014he was a peppery man,\u2014\u201cGo\nyourself, then;\u201d and the youth took him at his word and found the boy\nstruggling with the boat, tide and wind were driving from shore, and he\nwas unable to control the coracle. The elder ran into the water to\nassist his brother, and a great wave swept him off his feet and he was\ndrowned, but the little boy escaped.\n\nAfter this S. Brendan had no peace of mind. He thought himself\nresponsible for the loss of the youth. He had wished him \u201cBad luck,\u201d and\nbad luck indeed had fallen to him.\n\nHe went at once to his foster-mother, and consulted her.\n\nIt is quite possible that the relatives of the drowned youth had taken\nthe matter up, and pursued Brendan in blood-feud. So Itha, after mature\nconsideration, advised Brendan to leave Ireland for a while; and in\npunishment for his hastiness, and for having caused the death of the\nyouth, she bade him abstain from blood in everything.\n\nSo Brendan started. He went to Armorica, and determined to visit Gildas,\nthe historian, who was then at his abbey of Rhuys. Gildas was a sour,\nill-tempered man, very hard; and when Brendan arrived, it was just after\nsundown and the gates of the monastery were closed. He announced who he\nwas\u2014a traveller from Ireland\u2014but Gildas replied that rules must be kept,\nand it was against his rule to open after set of sun, so Brendan was\nconstrained to spend the night outside the gates.\n\nThence he went to Dol, but after a while, and a visit to S. David in\nWales, he returned to Ireland, and now Itha told him a marvellous story.\nThere was a rumour that far away to the west beyond the horizon was a\nwondrous land of beauty. He must not remain in Ireland: let him put to\nsea, sail after the sun as it set, and discover the mysterious land\nbeyond the Atlantic.\n\nThe imagination of Brendan was fired; he set to work to construct three\nlarge vessels of wickerwork, and he covered them with skins; each vessel\ncontained thirty men\u2014some were clergy, a good many laymen\u2014and he took a\nfool with him, because he begged hard to be admitted. Brendan was absent\nthree or five years, it is uncertain which\u2014for apparently the time of\nhis absence in Brittany is included in one of the computations.\n\nWonderful stories are told of what he saw and did, but no trust can be\nput in the narrative. On his return he went to Itha to report himself.\nShe received him with great pleasure, but objected that he had not\nliterally obeyed her, for his sails had been made of the skins of\nbeasts, so had been the covering of his boats, and cattle had been\nslaughtered for the purpose, so that he had not wholly abstained from\nblood.\n\nBut it is doubtful whether this is what she really said. It is probably\nthe legend writer\u2019s explanation for what follows. \u201cWhy,\u201d asked Itha,\n\u201cshould you risk these lengthy voyages in such frail vessels as coracles\nmade of basket-work covered with hides? Next time build boats of wood.\u201d\n\nThis was a new idea. The Irish, like the Welsh, had hitherto used large\ncoracles, and the only wooden boats they had employed were trunks of\ntrees hollowed out, and these only on lakes.\n\nBrendan at once seized on the suggestion, and constructed ships of wood,\nwhich were the first ever built in Ireland, and these were due to the\nidea of S. Itha.\n\nBrendan made a second voyage to the land beyond the ocean, and it is\npossible that he may have actually reached America; but, as already\nsaid, nothing trustworthy has come to us of the result of his attempts.\n\nItha had a brother, S. Finan, and she was related to S. Senan of\nAchadh-coel.\n\nItha in her old age was attacked by perhaps the most terrible and\npainful disease to which poor suffering mortality is subject, and it is\none to which women fall victims more often than men. She was attacked in\nher breast, but endured her pains night and day with the utmost patience\nand trust in God\u2019s mercy. Her nuns were affected to tears at her\nsufferings, but she had always a smile and cheerful words on her lips to\nbanish their discouragement.\n\nShe died at length on January 15th, in the year 569 or 570, and was laid\nin her church of Cluain Credhuil, which has since borne the name of\nKilleedy or the Church of Ida.\n\nShe must have been known beyond the island of Ireland, for in the\nSalisbury Martyrology she is entered in strange form as \u201cIn Ireland the\nfestival of S. Dorothea, also called Sith (S. Ith)\u201d on January 15th.\n\nIn Cornwall a lofty and bare hill, that commands the Atlantic and the\ncoast, is crowned by a great ruined camp. It had belonged to the\nBritish, but was wrested from them and became a stronghold of the\nSaxons, who held it so as to dominate the entire neighbourhood. This is\nHellborough, not far from Camelford. It continued to be a royal castle,\nthe property of the Crown, though it does not seem that any medi\u00e6val\ncastle was built upon it. Now, curiously enough, in the midst of this\ngreat camp is a mound of stone or cairn, and on this cairn is a little\nchapel, at present in ruins, dedicated to the saint whose life has just\nbeen given. And on the river Camel, that flows into the Padstow estuary,\nis a parish that bears the name, though corrupted into S. Issey. But\nnear Exeter is a parish church that has her as patroness with the name\nunmutilated, as S. Ide.\n\nHow came these dedications in Cornwall and Devon? Either because S.\nBrendan on his way home from Brittany founded the churches in memory of\nhis dear foster-mother, or else because here were colonies of holy women\nfrom the mother-house in Limerick.\n\nIn or about 656 Cuimin of Connor wrote the \u201cCharacteristics of the Irish\nSaints\u201d in metre, and this is what he says of Itha:\u2014\n\n              \u201cMy (dear) Itha, much beloved of fosterage,\n               Firmly rooted in humility, but never base,\n               Laid not her cheek to the ground,\n               Ever, ever full of the love of God.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. HILDA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  XII\n\n                               _S. HILDA_\n\n\nHilda was born in 614. She was the daughter of Hereric, nephew of Edwin,\nking of Northumbria.\n\nHer childhood was darkened by the civil wars that rent Northumbria, at\nthis time divided into two kingdoms, each engaged in fighting the other\nfor supremacy.\n\nIn 627, when aged thirteen, she received baptism, along with her uncle\nEdwin, at the hands of S. Paulinus. She lived thirty-three years in her\nfamily, \u201cvery nobly,\u201d says Bede, and then resolved to dedicate the rest\nof her life to God. Her intention was to go to Chelles, in France, for\nher training; and, for this purpose, she went into East Anglia to its\nqueen, her sister.\n\nShe spent a year in preparation for her final exile; but her purpose was\nfrustrated by a summons from S. Aidan, the Apostle of Northumbria, to\nreturn to her own country and settle there. She obeyed at once, and was\nplaced by Aidan as superior over a few sisters in a small monastic\nsettlement on the north bank of the Wear. But she was there for a year\nonly, when she was called to replace S. Heiu, the first Abbess of\nHartlepool. This was in 649.\n\nAt Hartlepool, the Saint\u2019s care was to introduce order and discipline,\nwhich had, apparently, been relaxed under Heiu. Hither came her mother,\nwho passed the rest of her days under the rule and care of her daughter,\nand there she died and was buried.\n\nIn some excavations carried on at Hartlepool on the site of the old\nabbey, between 1833 and 1843, among a number of Anglo-Saxon tombs that\nwere discovered, some bore the names of Berchtgitha, Hildigitha, and\nother members of the sisterhood.[5]\n\nSo great was Hilda\u2019s reputation for spiritual wisdom, that when King\nOswy, in fulfilment of his vow, consecrated his daughter, Elfleda, to\nAlmighty God, as a thank-offering for his victory over Penda, King of\nthe Mercians, it was to S. Hilda\u2019s care that he committed her.\n\nWhether now or later is uncertain, but she had a second convent at\nHackness, where some very remarkable relics of the ecclesiastical\nfoundations of Hilda still remain.\n\nIn 658, the peace and security of Northumbria had been secured by the\nfinal victory gained by Oswy over the Mercians, at Winwaed. Hilda at\nonce took advantage of the king\u2019s vow to give a certain number of farms\nto God, to secure Streaneshalch, now Whitby, for the establishment of a\nnew and larger monastery.\n\nM. de Montalembert, the historian of Western Monachism, says that: \u201cOf\nall sites chosen by monastic architects, after that of Monte Cassino, I\nknow none grander and more picturesque than that of Whitby. Nothing now\nremains of the Saxon monastery, but more than half the Abbey-church,\nrestored by the Percies in the time of the Normans, still stands, and\nenables the marvelling spectator to form for himself an idea of the\nsolemn grandeur of the great edifice.... The beautiful colour of the\nstone, half-eaten away by the sea-winds, adds to the charm of these\nruins. A more picturesque effect could not be imagined than that of the\ndistant horizon of azure sea, viewed through the gaunt, hollow eyes of\nthe ruinous arches.\u201d\n\nHere, for thirty years, the great Hilda ruled. She must have been a\nwoman of commanding character, and of no mean mental power, for she\nexercised a really marvellous influence over bishops, kings and nobles.\nThey came to consult her, and received her advice with respect. \u201cAll who\nknew her,\u201d says Bede, \u201ccalled her Mother, on account of her singular\npiety and grace. She was not merely an example of good life to those who\nlived in her monastery, but she afforded occasion of amendment and\nsalvation to many who lived at a distance, to whom was carried the fame\nof her industry and virtue.\u201d\n\nThe story went that before her birth her mother had dreamt that she had\nin her lap a jewel that sent forth streams of light; and it was proudly\nthought that this meant that she would nurse Hilda, precious as a gem,\nand diffusing the light of divine truth through dark Northumbria.\n\nUnder Hilda\u2019s charge at Whitby was the little Elfleda, daughter of Oswy,\nwho was to succeed her in the abbacy.\n\nThe monastery was a curious institution. It was double. There was a\ncommunity of women and another of men. There was, however, but one\nchurch in which they met for prayer. If we may judge by the Celtic\nmonasteries elsewhere, a wall separated the monks from the nuns, so that\nthey could hear but not see each other.\n\nThe monastery for men under Hilda became a nursery for bishops. Thence\nissued Bosa, who became Bishop of York,\u2014Hedda, Bishop of Dorchester, but\nafterwards translated to Winchester; Oftfor, Bishop of Worcester, and\nJohn of Hexham,\u2014all saints; also Wilfrid II., afterwards of York.\n\nHow these double monasteries were managed one would have been glad to\nlearn, but very few details concerning them remain.\n\nAt Whitby, where she had to govern both men and women, her powers of\norganisation and control were conspicuous. But she had others under her\nbeside monks and nuns: she ruled a large number of serfs with their\nfamilies, attached to the soil and tilling it.\n\nAmongst these was an old cowherd, named Caedmon. He was, as a serf, very\nignorant and uneducated, but he had rare natural gifts, long\nunsuspected. He attended the carouses so dear to the beer-drinking\nSaxons and Angles, but he was unable to take his part, whenever the harp\nwas handed to him and it was his turn to sing a ballad. On such\noccasions, mortified, he had been wont to rise from his place, and\nretire to his own reed-thatched cottage, where he slept beside the cows\nin their stall.\n\nBut one evening, when he had done this, as he was lying among the straw,\nand the oxen were beside him chewing the cud, and the air was sweet with\ntheir breath, he fancied, half-asleep and half-awake, that he heard a\nvoice say: \u201cSing me something.\u201d\n\nThen he replied: \u201cHow can I sing? I have left the feast because I am so\nignorant that I cannot.\u201d\n\n\u201cSing, nevertheless,\u201d he thought the vision said.\n\n\u201cBut\u2014what can I sing about?\u201d\n\n\u201cSing the story of the World\u2019s Birth.\u201d\n\nThen, somehow, an inspiration came on him, and in the night, among the\ncows, out of the straw, he raised his voice, and began to throw into\nrude verse the story of Creation. It was very rugged, but very fresh,\nand it welled up from his heart; in the morning he thought over the\nlines he had composed, and during the day talked of his newly-acquired\npowers.\n\nThe Abbess Hilda heard of it, and she sent for him, and he recited his\npoem before her.\n\nWhether at the time he twanged the harp we do not know; probably he drew\nhis fingers across the strings as he finished each line, so as to give\ntime for him to form or remember the next.\n\nNow, in this poetry there was no rhyme, as we understand it. The musical\neffect was produced by alliteration\u2014that is to say, by the repetition of\nsome ringing consonant or broad diphthong, usually at the _beginning_ of\na word. If we understood Anglo-Saxon music, we should understand the\ncharm to the ear of this alliteration.\n\nHilda at once recognised the genius of the old cow-herd; she took him\ninto her household, and bade him devote himself to the cultivation of\nhis talent. Thus it is due to her that Anglo-Saxon poetry took its\nrise\u2014or, at all events, was recognised as literature deserving of being\npreserved. Caedmon\u2019s poems are the earliest specimens we have.\n\nBut Hilda, with real genius, saw at once in the faculty of the old\npeasant a great means of conveying to the rude people the story of\nScripture and the lessons of the Gospel. They were quite incapable of\nreading. Priests were few, and widely scattered. The people loved\nballads; they would hearken for hours, sitting over the fire, to a\nsinger who twanged the strings and then sang a stave or a line. They\nloved a long story. It could not be too long for them, having no books,\nnothing wherewith to relieve the tedium of the long winter evenings.\n\nNow, thought Hilda, if we can run the Bible stories into ballad form,\nthese will be sung in every cottage and farm wherever a gleeman can go\ncertain of welcome; they will be eagerly listened to. So she gave to\nCaedmon clergy who translated the Scripture narrative from Latin into\nhomespun Saxon. He listened, took his harp, the fire came into his grey\neyes, and he sang it all in verse. Ninety-nine out of a hundred other\nwomen would have said, \u201cThis is very interesting, but the man must be\nsnubbed; he is only a keeper of cows, and he must be taught not to\npresume.\u201d Hilda, however, was above such pettiness: seeing a divine gift\nof song, though granted to quite a common poor man, she at once\nendeavoured to ripen it, and to turn it to a practical, good end. How to\nseize an occasion, an opportunity, and make use of it, is not given to\nall.\n\nAnother instance of Hilda\u2019s clear mind and sound sense was in the\nsettlement of the vexed question of Easter.\n\nAbout that I shall have more to say when we come to the story of S.\nElfleda.\n\nThe British-Irish Church did not observe Easter on the same day as the\nRoman Church; and as the Mercians and Northumbrians had received their\nChristianity from Iona, the metropolis of the Scottish Church, they kept\nthe festival at one time, when the men of Kent and Wessex kept it at\nanother. This produced discord at the very season when minds should be\nawed and calm; and it was a constant source of bickering and religious\nquarrels. The situation was intolerable, and, probably at the\ninstigation of Hilda, a parliament was convoked at Whitby in 664 to\nsettle the difficulty. This was the _Witenagemot_, composed of the\nprincipal nobles and ecclesiastics of the country, and presided over by\nthe king.\n\nHilda was now fifty years old, and one would have supposed at that age\nwould have adhered with the utmost tenacity to the rule in which she had\nbeen brought up, and which had been observed by her Father-in-God, S.\nAidan, and by S. Cuthbert, whom she revered as a saint and a prophet\ninspired by the Divine Spirit. But she was a woman too sensible and too\nforbearing to force her own likings on the Church, against what her\njudgment told her was right. Pope Honorius had written in 634 to the\nIrish, exhorting them \u201cnot to think their small number, lodged at the\nutmost fringe of the world, wiser than all the ancient and modern\nChurches throughout the earth.\u201d Even in Iona great searchings of heart\nhad begun. S. Cummian had written to the abbot there, explaining how the\nerror arose whereby the two Churches were separated, and he entreated\nthe Celtic clergy to give way. \u201cWhat,\u201d he asked, \u201ccan be worse thought\nconcerning the Church, our mother, than that we should say, Rome errs,\nJerusalem errs, Alexandria errs, Antioch errs, the whole world errs; the\nScots and Britons alone know what is right.\u201d\n\nHilda\u2019s leanings were entirely to the Scottish side, but Oswy strongly\nadopted the other, and the nobles and freemen, not caring much one way\nor the other, held up their hands to express their willingness to\nobserve Easter at such time as pleased the king.\n\nHilda seems at once to have submitted, and to have introduced the\nobservance of the Roman computation at Whitby, but the northern bishops\nwithdrew, unconvinced and discouraged. Hilda was almost certainly alive\nwhen Caedmon died, but she was not long in following him. For the last\nseven years of her life she suffered greatly; then, says Bede, \u201cthe\ndistemper turning inwards, she approached her last day, and about\ncock-crow, having received the Holy Communion, to further her on her\njourney, and having called together the servants of Christ that were in\nthe same monastery, she admonished them to preserve evangelical peace\namong themselves and with all others; and as she was speaking she saw\nDeath approaching, and\u2014passed from death to life.\u201d She died in 680.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. ELFLEDA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  XIII\n\n                              _S. ELFLEDA_\n\n\nWhen the terrible Penda had advanced into Northumbria, against Oswy,\ndestroying homesteads and harvests with fire, and butchering all who\nfell into his hands, then the Northumbrian king sent presents to him,\nand asked for peace. The fierce Mercian refused the presents offered:\nnothing would satisfy him but the absolute subjection of the Northern\nKingdom. Then, in despair, Oswy vowed to God that, as the old Pagan had\nrejected his gifts, he would dedicate his little one-year-old daughter\nto Him, together with twelve farms, if He would bless his arms in\nbattle.\n\nThe odds were against Oswy. The host opposed to him was thrice as\nnumerous as his own. Ethelhere, King of the East Angles, had come to the\naid of Penda; and Odilwald, son of S. Oswald, who had been given an\nunderlordship of part of Deira, and who thought he ought to have\nsucceeded his father in kingship, went over to Penda.\n\nThe battle was fought on the Winwaed, near Leeds; the Mercians and their\nallies in their confidence had incautiously put the river at their back.\nHeavy rains filled it to overflow; it became a deep and boiling torrent,\ncutting off retreat. The Mercians were defeated. A panic fell on them,\nand as they fled they were swept away by the swollen river. Of the\nthirty eorldormen who marched with Penda, hardly one survived. The King\nof the East Angles and the savage old Mercian were among those who were\nslain. Odilwald did not enter the battle. He was well aware that when\nBernicia had been eaten, Penda\u2019s next mouthful would be Deira. He bore a\nbitter grudge against Oswy, but for all that did not care to put the\nknife into the hand of the Mercian king wherewith to have his own throat\ncut.\n\nA battle song was composed on the occasion, of which a snatch has been\npreserved:\u2014\n\n        \u201cIn the river Winwaed is avenged the slaughter of Anna,\n         The slaughter of Sigbert and Ecgric as well,\n         The slaughter of Oswald and Edwin who fell.\u201d\n\nThe battle was fought in 655, consequently S. Elfleda was born in 654.\n\nOswy faithfully kept his vow. He set apart twelve estates to be\nthenceforth monastic property\u2014six in the north and six in the south of\nhis double kingdom. He then surrendered the little Elfleda to be brought\nup to the service of God.\n\nHer mother was Eanfleda, daughter of Edwin, the first Christian King of\nNorthumbria. It was, in fact, her birth, on Easter Day, 626, which was\nthe occasion of the subsequent conversion of her father, and of his\nsubjects; and Eanfleda was the firstfruits of her nation to receive\nbaptism on the Whit Sunday following.\n\nOswy, the father of Elfleda, was a dissolute and murderous ruffian, who\nin cold blood had murdered the gallant Oswin, King of Deira, the kinsman\nof his own wife.\n\nOswy gave his daughter to S. Hilda, at Hartlepool.\n\nIn the furious and fratricidal wars which were waged in England by the\nconquerors of the British, each kingdom was animated by a blind instinct\nthat the unity of the race should be effected somehow; but each\nunderstood this only as by bringing the rest under subjection.\n\nElfleda is described by Bede as a very pious princess. She had a sister,\nolder than herself, Alcfleda, who had been married to Peada, son of the\nravager Penda. But Alcfleda bore no love to her husband, and had him\nassassinated whilst he was celebrating Easter.\n\nTwo years after Elfleda had been placed at Hartlepool, S. Hilda obtained\na grant of land where now stands Whitby, but which was then called\nStreaneshalch. She moved thither, and there constituted her famous\nmonastery. This was in 658.\n\nWith Hilda remained Elfleda till the death of the great abbess in 680.\nOn the death of Oswy in 670, ten years before, her mother Eanfleda came\nthere; but when Hilda died, the young Elfleda, and not her mother, was\nelected to be the second abbess. As she was scarcely twenty-five, she\nwas guided and assisted by Trumwin, who had been Bishop of Witherne, but\nhad been obliged to leave his diocese by the unruly Picts, and he had\nwithdrawn to the monastery of Hilda to remain under her rule.\n\nLike all the Anglo-Saxon princesses of the period who retired into the\ncloister, Elfleda did not cease to take a passionate interest in the\naffairs of her race and her country, and to exercise a very remarkable\ninfluence over the princes and the people. When in 670 Oswy died he was\nsucceeded by his son Egfrid, as unprincipled a man as his father. In\n674, at Easter, S. Cuthbert was drawn from his island and cell and was\nordained Bishop, with his seat at Lindisfarne, to rule the Northumbrian\nChurch, in the presence of the king, at York. It was then that Cuthbert,\nknowing what was in the heart of the turbulent king, urged him to\nrefrain from attacking the Picts and Scots, who were not molesting the\nNorthumbrians. He would not, however, hearken. He had already despatched\nan army under Beorf to wantonly ravage Ireland. This had, as Bede said,\n\u201cmiserably wasted that harmless nation, which had always been friendly\nto the English; insomuch that in their hostile rage they spared neither\nchurches nor monasteries.\u201d The expedition against the Picts was\ndetermined on against the advice of all his friends, and of the Bishop\nof York, and of Cuthbert.\n\nElfleda was in great anxiety about her headstrong brother, and she went\nto see Cuthbert concerning him. He and the abbess met, having gone by\nsea to the place appointed for the interview. She threw herself at his\nfeet and entreated him to tell her what the issue would be\u2014would Egfrid\nhave a long reign?\n\n\u201cI am surprised,\u201d answered Cuthbert, \u201cthat a woman well versed, like\nyou, in the Scriptures, should speak to me of length of human life,\nwhich lasts no longer than a spider\u2019s web. How short, then, must life be\nfor a man who has but a year to live, and has death at his door!\u201d\n\nAt these words Elfleda\u2019s tears began to flow. She felt that the wise old\nhermit saw that the mad as well as wicked expedition of her brother must\nend fatally.\n\nPresently, drying her tears, she continued with feminine boldness to\ninquire who would be the king\u2019s successor, since he had neither sons nor\nbrothers.\n\n\u201cSay not so,\u201d replied Cuthbert. \u201cHe shall have a successor whom you will\nlove, as you as a sister love Egfrid.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d pursued Elfleda, \u201cwhere can this successor be?\u201d\n\nThen he turned his eyes to the islands dotting this coast, and said:\n\u201cHow many islands there be in this mighty ocean! Surely thence can God\nbring a man to reign over the English.\u201d\n\nElfleda then perceived that he spoke of a young man, Alcfrid, supposed\nto be the son of her father Oswy by an Irish mother, and who had been a\nfriend of Wilfrid, and was now in Iona, probably hiding from his\nbrother, whom he could not trust.\n\nThe venerable Cuthbert was not out in his conjecture. On May 20th, 684,\nEgfrid was drawn into a pass at Drumnechtan, in Forfar, was surrounded\nby the Scots and Picts, slain, and the great bulk of his men cut to\npieces.\n\n\u201cFrom that time,\u201d says Bede, \u201cthe hopes of the English crown began to\nwaver and retrograde; for the Picts recovered their own lands, which had\nbeen held by the English.\u201d\n\nAlcfrid at once left Iona, and was chosen king. He was a good and just\nprince, much under the influence of Wilfrid and inclined to adopt Roman\nfashions.\n\nIt becomes necessary now to speak of a controversy that rent the unity\nof the Church in England.\n\nAll Northumbria, Mercia and Essex had received the faith from Iona, the\nmonastic capital of the Scots, whereas Kent and Wessex had received it\nfrom Rome.\n\nIona had been founded in 563 by S. Columba, an Irishman; and it was from\nIona that S. Aidan, the Apostle of Northumbria, had been sent.\nLindisfarne, the seat of the Bishops of Northumbria, was a daughter of\nIona.\n\nNow, there were certain differences between this Celtic Church and that\nof Rome and Gaul.\n\nIn the first place, the Britons and Irish had been cut off from\ncommunication with the rest of Europe by the troubles that afflicted the\nEmpire as it fell into ruin under the blows of the Barbarians.\nConsequently they were unaware that a change had been agreed on in the\nobservance of Easter. It was discovered in 387 that the system of\ncalculating Easter was erroneous, and Pope Hilary employed one\nVictorinus to frame a new cycle, which was thenceforth followed in the\nLatin Church. But of this change the British and Irish Church knew\nnothing; and when Augustine and his followers arrived in Kent they found\nthat the ancient Church of the Britons observed Easter on a different\nday from themselves.\n\nThat was not all. The Celtic monks had a different tonsure or mode of\ncutting of the hair from the Latin monks. Instead of shaving the top of\nthe head, and leaving the hair as a crown, they shaved the front of the\nhead from ear to ear. Now, the reason of the use of the tonsure among\nthe Celts was this. The cutting of the hair signified adoption, and\nthere is some reason to believe that every tribe or clan clipped its\nhair in its own peculiar fashion. The Ecclesiastical tribe adopted the\nshaving of the front of the head; and every one so shaven belonged in\nthe ecclesiastical clan.\n\nWhen S. David settled in the valley where is now the Cathedral that\nbears his name, there was an Irish Pict invader living in a camp hard\nby. He had seized on that bit of Pembrokeshire. His name was Boia, and\nhe was a pagan. His wife was highly incensed at Christian monks settling\non their land and near at hand, and she tried to goad her husband to\nmurder them. But he was a good-natured man, and he absolutely refused to\ndo her will. Then she resolved to get her heathen gods to strike them\ndead, and in order to gain the favour of the gods she must offer them a\nsacrifice of one of her children. But she had none of her own; so she\ncalled to her a little girl, a daughter of her husband by a former wife,\nand told her she would cut her hair. She took the girl down into a sunny\nplace in a hazel grove on the slope of the hill, and there, with her\nshears, cut her hair. Now, as cutting the hair was esteemed to be\nadoption, by this act she had made the child her own; so she instantly\nwith the shears cut the girl\u2019s throat as an offering to the gods. Now\nthe British clergy, by their form of cutting the hair, regarded\nthemselves as adopted into the family of God, or the Ecclesiastical\ntribe.\n\nAugustine and the Latin clergy could not understand this. Instead of\narguing with the native Christians they denounced them. They called them\nJudaisers because they observed Easter at the wrong time, which was\nfalse; and they called the tonsure of the Celts that of Simon Magus,\nwhich was nonsense.\n\nThere were other peculiarities. The British Church used unleavened bread\nat the Eucharist, and the Latin Church at that time only such bread as\nwas leavened. Also, another high misdemeanour was that, instead of\nemploying a single collect before the Epistle and Gospel, there were\nmore than one said. In these two last particulars the Latin Church has\naltered now her practice; in the matter of the unleavened bread, the\nchange took place in the tenth century.\n\nNow, the matter of Easter was very vexing, for whilst those who followed\nthe Roman rule were singing Allelujah and were rejoicing, the Celtic and\nNorthumbrian and Mercian Christians were still keeping Lent. Precisely\nthe same thing occurs in Russia, where in English and Roman chaplaincies\nEaster is kept whilst the Russians are still fasting.\n\nThis became a burning question when the Northumbrian kings married\nprincesses from the South. These had their own chaplains and kept Easter\nat their time, whilst their husbands and the court and the people were\nin the midst of Passion solemnities.\n\nAs to the matter of the tonsure, on which the Roman clergy made a great\nnoise, it was like asking a clan to change its tartan,\u2014say the McDonalds\nto be forced to adopt that of the Campbells.\n\nOswy had found the condition of affairs intolerable, as his own queen\nfollowed the Roman rule, whilst he observed that of the Celtic Church.\n\nOswy had associated his son Alcfrid with him in the government of\nNorthumbria, and Alcfrid was much swayed by Wilfrid, a companion of his\nage then living at the Court of Oswy, who had been to Rome, seen its\nwonders and the splendours of the pontifical services in the old\nbasilica of S. Peter. He came back with his head full of what he had\nseen, and utterly scorning everything British, even the Christianity of\nhis Northumbrian brethren. In his idea nothing would avail but the\nconforming of the Church in Northumbria to Roman obedience and Roman\ncustoms.\n\nOswy was induced to summon a council at Whitby to decide matters of\ncontroversy. On the Scottish side were S. Colman, the Northumbrian\nbishop, with his clergy; S. Hilda, followed of course by Elfleda; S.\nCedd, bishop of the East Saxons. On the Roman side was Agilbert, bishop\nof the West Saxons, the Queen\u2019s chaplain, Wilfrid, then only a priest,\none other priest, and a deacon. The King favoured the Celtic use,\nAlcfrid the Latin.\n\nWilfrid was the chief speaker on the latter side, and he dexterously\nappealed to Oswy\u2019s fears. The Roman Church must be right, he said,\nbecause S. Peter, its founder, held the keys of heaven. At once Oswy\nquaked; he recollected his dastardly murder of Oswin. It would never do\nfor him not to make a friend of the doorkeeper of heaven. So he gave\nway, and the Celtic bishops, deprived of his support, but unyielding and\nunconvinced, withdrew.\n\nIt was now hoped that the Church would have peace, and the points of\ndifference would gradually disappear. S. Hilda, at Whitby, accepted the\nRoman computation. But it was not so easy to satisfy a clergy and people\nbrought up in another school.\n\nTo make matters worse, Wilfrid was appointed Bishop of York, a man of a\nviolent, headstrong character, who, to begin with, refused to accept\nconsecration from bishops in the North with Celtic orders; but went\ndeliberately to Gaul to be ordained there, so as to cast a slur on the\nChurch of the people to rule over whom he had been called.\n\nWilfrid had no idea of persuasion, had not a spark of Christian love in\nhis composition; he could insult, browbeat, but not persuade. In his\ndiocese he roused revolt and provoked brawls, and was expelled from it,\nnot once only, but whenever he returned.\n\nNow the new King Alcfrid had brought with him from Iona attachment to\nthe order of the Church of SS. Columba and Aidan. Elfleda inherited the\nsame reverence and love for these usages. But on the other side there\nwere strong political reasons which led men to think it would be well to\ncome to an arrangement with Canterbury and Rome. It was awkward to have\nthese differences, this cleavage, even in the royal palace. It was\nunadvisable that the Angles of the North and of the Midlands should have\nto apply to the Scots and Britons, their hereditary enemies, for their\nbishops. If the Angles and Saxons could but agree in ecclesiastical\nmatters, they would be a more compact body to oppose Britons and Scots;\nand, further still, it would be an element conducive to the much desired\nunity of the English people. This ecclesiastical unity would be the\nfirst step to the cessation of that internecine war between Northumbria,\nMercia, and Wessex, which tore the island in pieces and soaked its\nfertile soil with blood.\n\nHoping that Wilfrid, now an aged man, would be softened by adversity, he\nwas suffered to return. To the new king, as well as to his sister, S.\nElfleda, Abbess of Whitby, Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury wrote, to\nexhort them to receive Wilfrid with unreserved kindness. They consented,\nand in 687 he reappeared at York; but it was to excite new storms in his\ndiocese, and he was again exiled in 691.\n\nAlcfrid died in 705, and the Northumbrian crown passed to a prince named\nEadwulf. Wilfrid had taken advantage of the death of Alcfrid to return,\nbut was ordered to leave the country in six days. But Eadwulf was\ndethroned, and Osred, a son of Alcfrid, aged eight, became King of\nBernicia. By some unexplained means Wilfrid was now, all at once, master\nof the situation. Archbishop Berthwald of Canterbury had convoked a\nsynod that was to settle the disputes, and it met on the banks of the\nNidd. It was attended by the northern Bishops of York, Lindisfarne, and\nWitherne, by Elfleda also, the Abbess of Whitby, and by Berchtfrid, the\nregent of the kingdom during the minority of Osred. Archbishop Berthwald\nread the letters of the pope on the points in dispute. But the bishops\nwere very unwilling to make way for so turbulent a person as Wilfrid.\nThen it was that Elfleda stood forward, and in a voice which was\nlistened to as an utterance from heaven, she described the last illness\nof her half-brother Alcfrid, and his death, and assured all that he had\nthen resolved to accept the papal decrees, which hitherto, when his mind\nwas clear, he had so vigorously rejected. \u201cThis,\u201d said she, \u201cwas the\nlast will of Alcfrid the King. I attest the truth of it before Christ.\u201d\n\nNevertheless the three bishops would not yield; they retired from the\nassembly to confer among themselves, and with the Archbishop, and, above\nall, with the sagacious Elfleda. It was due to her that a compromise was\neffected. The monasteries of Ripon and Hexham were restored to Wilfrid\nand with that he was to be content.\n\nShortly before his death, S. Cuthbert went to see Elfleda in the\nneighbourhood of the great monastery of Whitby, to consecrate a church\nshe had built there. They dined together; and during the meal, seeing\nthe knife drop from the trembling hand of the old bishop, in the\nabstraction of his far-away thoughts, she asked him what he thought\nabout, and he told her that he had had a glimpse of the future. She\nurged him to eat more.\n\n\u201cI cannot be eating all day long,\u201d he replied. \u201cYou must allow me a\nlittle rest.\u201d\n\nOn the death of Oswy, as already related, Elfleda\u2019s mother had come to\nWhitby and placed herself under the rule of her own daughter, and\nElfleda closed her eyes. She herself died in 716, at the age of\nsixty-four. No account of her last illness has been transmitted to us.\n\nElfleda certainly played an important conciliatory part when minds were\nheated with controversy. She was right undoubtedly. It was a mistake for\nthe Church in North England to hold to a usage that was founded on a\nblunder. It was a mistake to persist in keeping Wilfrid, canonically\nbishop of York, for many years out of his see. It was a political\nnecessity that all Englishmen should be united, at all events, in their\nreligious observances. That paved the way to future political unity.\n\n\n              Pedigree of S. Hilda and S. Elfleda.\n\n                            Ella, ===\n                          king of  |\n                          Deira,   |\n                          559-588. |\n                                   |\n                        +---------------------------+\n                        |                           |\n                        | Edwin, === S. Ethelburga  Acca === Ethelred\n                  king, 616-633.  |    of Kent.           |  the\n                                  |                       |  king of\n                                  |                       |  Bernicia,\n                                  |                       |  592-617.\n                                +---+                  +----+\n                                  |                       |\nAn Irish                          |                       |\n   wife === Oswy,       === S. Eanfleda      Hereric  ===  Bregeswitha.\n         |  king of      |                    d. 617.  |\n         |  Bernicla,    |                             |\n         |  641-670.     |                             |\n         |               |                             |\n         |               +---+             +-----------+------+\n         |                   |             |                  |\n      Alcfrid,               |             |                  |\n    king, 685-704.           |             |                  |\n                             |             |                  |\n                        S. Elfleda,     Hereswitha,         S. Hilda\n                        b. 654;           ===               b. 614,\n                        Abbess Whitby   Ecgric,             d. 680.\n                        680-716.        king of East Angles.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. WERBURGA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  XIV\n\n                             _S. WERBURGA_\n\n\nThe words of Montalembert deserve to be transcribed and re-read, so true\nare they as well as graceful.\n\n\u201cNothing had more astonished the Romans than the austere chastity of the\nGerman women; the religious respect of the men for the partners of their\nlabours and dangers, in peace as well as in war; and the almost divine\nhonours with which they surrounded the priestesses or prophetesses, who\nsometimes presided at their religious rites, and sometimes led them to\ncombat against the violators of the national soil. When the Roman world,\nundermined by corruption and imperial despotism, fell to pieces like the\narch of a _cloaca_, there is no better indication of the difference\nbetween the debased subjects of the empire and their conquerors, than\nthat sanctity of conjugal and domestic ties, that energetic family\nfeeling, that worship of pure blood, which are founded upon the dignity\nof woman, and respect for her modesty, no less than upon the proud\nindependence of man and the consciousness of personal dignity. It is by\nthis special quality that the barbarians showed themselves worthy of\ninstilling a new life into the West, and becoming the forerunners of the\nnew Christian nations to which we all owe our birth.\n\n\u201cWho does not recall those Cimbri whom Marius had so much trouble in\nconquering, and whose women rivalled the men in boldness and heroism?\nThose women, who had followed their husbands to the war, gave the Romans\na lesson in modesty and greatness of soul of which the future tools of\nthe tyrants and the C\u00e6sars were not worthy. They would surrender only on\nthe promise of the consul that their honour should be protected, and\nthat they should be given as slaves to the Vestals, thus putting\nthemselves under the protection of those whom they regarded as virgins\nand priestesses. The great beginner of democratic dictatorship refused:\nupon which they killed themselves and their children, generously\npreferring death to shame.\n\n\u201cThe Anglo-Saxons came from the same districts, bathed by the waters of\nthe Northern Sea, which had been inhabited by the Cimbri, and showed\nthemselves worthy of descent from them, as much by the irresistible\nonslaught of the warriors as by the indisputable power of their armies.\nNo trace of the old Roman spirit which put a wife _in manu_, in the hand\nof her husband\u2014that is to say, under his feet\u2014is to be found among them.\nWoman is a person, and not a thing. She lives, she speaks, she acts for\nherself, guaranteed against the least outrage by severe penalties, and\nprotected by universal respect. She inherits, she disposes of her\npossessions\u2014sometimes even she deliberates, she fights, she governs,\nlike the most proud and powerful of men. The influence of women has been\nnowhere more effectual, more fully recognised, or more enduring than\namong the Anglo-Saxons, and nowhere was it more legitimate or more\nhappy.\u201d[6]\n\nBritain had been invaded, and subdued. From the wall of Antonine that\nconnected the Firth of Forth with the Clyde, to what was now to be\ncalled the English Channel, all the east coast and centre of the island\nwas occupied by the conquerors from Germany. The Britons had been rolled\nback into the kingdoms of Strathclyde, Rheged, Wales, and Cornwall and\nDevon.\n\nThe conquerors had coalesced into three great kingdoms\u2014Northumbria,\nMercia, and Wessex.\n\nFrom the island of Iona, missionaries of the Irish Church had effected\nthe conversion of the Northumbrians. Augustine with his handful from\nRome had introduced Christianity into the little subject Kingdom of\nKent. From Northumbria the disciples of Iona penetrated Essex and made\nconverts also there. But in Mercia Mid-England paganism was supreme, and\nthe terrible Penda made himself paramount from the Thames and Wash to\nthe Severn. The West Saxons were cowed.\n\nBut S. Oswald, the Northumbrian king, restored the older domination of\nNorthumbria, only to fall again. For thirty years Penda flung himself\nwith fury against the Northern kingdom, and devastated it with fire and\nsword. Towards the end of his long reign he entrusted the government of\nthe Mid-Angles to his son Peada, who married Alcfleda, daughter of the\nNorthumbrian king, and at the same time received baptism from the hands\nof the Celtic bishop Finan.\n\nThus Christianity began to infiltrate into Mid-England also from the\nNorth and from the Celtic Church; and missionaries from Lindisfarne\nfollowed him into his principality.\n\nThe savage old pagan Penda acquiesced\u2014perhaps he thought it inevitable\nthat England should become Christian. The Britons to a man believed. All\nNorthumbria had submitted to the Cross; the conversion of the East\nSaxons and of Wessex was in full progress. Penda raised no opposition,\nbut poured forth the vials of his scorn upon such as had been baptised,\nand who did not live up to their baptismal promises. \u201cThose who\ndespise,\u201d said he, \u201cthe laws of the God in whom they believe, are\ndespicable wretches.\u201d\n\nBut, notwithstanding the union by marriage between the families, the\nrivalry between Mercia and Northumbria could not be allayed; it must be\ndecided on the battlefield. It was only when driven to desperation by\nthe encroachments and insults of Penda, that Oswy resolved to engage in\na final conflict with the man who had defeated and slain his two\npredecessors, Edwin and Oswald. During the thirteen years that had\nelapsed since the overthrow of Oswald, Penda had periodically subjected\nNorthumbria to frightful devastations. Oswy, knowing his weakness, when\nthe eighty-year-old pagan had got as far north as Bamborough, entreated\nfor peace, and sent him a present of all the jewels and treasures of\nwhich he could dispose. Penda set them aside roughly, resolved, so it\nwas believed, to root out and destroy the whole Northumbrian people.\nThen, in his despair, Oswy vowed\u2014should God strengthen his hand and lead\nhim to victory\u2014that he would give his infant daughter to God and endow\ntwelve monasteries. \u201cSince the pagan will not take our gifts,\u201d he said,\n\u201clet us offer them to One who will.\u201d\n\nThe battle of Winwaed resulted in the complete rout of the Mercians and\ntheir wholesale destruction, and Penda himself fell.\n\nFor the moment the ruin of Mercia seemed complete, and Oswy extended his\nsupremacy over the whole of it. For three years the Mercians endured\nthis foreign rule; but in 659 they surged up in revolt, drove the\nNorthumbrian thanes from the land, and raised Wulfhere, a younger son of\nPenda, to the throne.\n\nUnder the able arm of this new king Mercia rose once more into a power\neven greater than that under Penda. Oswy died in 670, and thenceforth no\nNorthumbrian king made any attempt to obtain the dominion over the Mid\nor Southern English.\n\nDuring the three years after the death of Penda, Oswy had poured\nmissionaries into Mercia. Peada had already brought the Irish monk Diuma\nwith him, and he became bishop in Mercia. He was followed by another\nIrishman, Ceolach, a disciple of S. Columba. The third bishop was\nTrumhere, a Northumbrian abbot, consecrated at Lindisfarne. His\nsuccessors, Jaruman and Ceadda, had also been ordained by the Scots.\n\nIn 658 Wulfhere had married Ermenilda, daughter of Ercombert, King of\nKent, and of his wife S. Sexburga. This was just before the revolt which\nraised him to the throne. He does not seem to have been a Christian like\nhis brother Peada, but to have felt much like old Penda, his father.\n\nBy her he had four children\u2014Werburga, Ceonred, Rufinus, and Wulfhad.\n\nUnder a pious mother, Werburga grew up in the nurture and admonition of\nthe Lord; and from an early age her great desire was to embrace the\nreligious life, and spend her days in the peace of the cloister. It was\na lawless and godless time. Men were coarse and cruel, the palace was a\nscene of drunkenness and riot, from which her gentle spirit shrank. She\nis described as being very lovely and sweet in manner. She daily\nassisted with her mother at Divine Service, and spent much of her time\nin reading and in prayer.\n\nWhen she came of age to be married, her hand was sought by one Werebod,\na thane about the court, but she refused him.\n\nNow we come to a story about which some difficulties exist. In the\ntwelfth century one Robert of Swaffham wrote an account of the death of\nRufinus and Wulfhad, sons of Wulfhere and brothers of S. Werburga. The\nauthority is late, too late to be trusted, as we do not know whence the\nwriter drew his narrative.\n\nAccording to this story, when Rufinus and Wulfhad heard of Werebod\u2019s\nproposal, they scouted it, and told him to his face that he was not\nworthy to have her. Werebod dissembled his mortification, and waited an\nopportunity for revenge. The princes were then at Stone, in\nStaffordshire, where Wulfhere had a palace.\n\nOne day Wulfhad was out hunting, when the stag he was pursuing brought\nhim to the cell of S. Ceadda or Chad, who exhorted him to receive the\nfaith of Christ and be baptised. Wulfhad answered that he would do so if\nthe stag he had been pursuing would come of its own accord, with a rope\nround its neck, and present itself before him. S. Chad prayed, and the\nstag bounded through the bushes to the spot, with the rope as Wulfhad\ndesired. S. Chad baptised the prince, and next morning communicated him.\nRufinus was led by his brother to receive holy baptism, and when Werebod\nlearned this, he told the king of it, and Wulfhere, in a fit of fury,\npursued his sons to the cell of S. Chad, and killed them with his own\nhands.\n\nThe story as it stands is impossible. There is no early notice of it, so\nthat it reposes on a late tradition. Nevertheless, that there is a basis\nof truth is most probable, if not certain. The Church of Kinver is\ndedicated to SS. Rufinus and Wulfhad, and it stands under the Kefnvaur,\nthe great red sandstone ridge on which are earthworks where Wulfhere had\none of his strongholds. This is probably the site of the murder. That\nthe two princes in their youthful pride scouted the suit of Werebod and\ninsulted him is likely enough. That they had received lively impressions\nof reverence for Christianity from their mother is also very probable.\nThat they had placed themselves under instruction by S. Chad, and had\nbeen baptised by him, is also very likely. But that their father should\nhave killed them on that account is inadmissible. Werebod may have\npoisoned his mind against his sons, and represented them as plotting\nagainst him with the Northumbrian king and using Chad as an\nintermediary, and he may have goaded Wulfhere into ordering their death\non that account; or there may have been a violent scene between them\nwhich ended in the king killing them; or, more likely still, Werebod may\nhimself have waylaid and assassinated them whilst out hunting. It took\nvery little among the Anglo-Saxons to transform any one who died a\nviolent death into a martyr; and when two royal princes had been killed,\nsome excuse for regarding them as witnesses to the faith was sought and\ninvented.\n\nThe bodies of the princes were conveyed to Stone, so called because of a\nmemorial set up over them by Wulfhere, an inscribed pillar-stone; but,\nmoved by compunction, he founded there a religious house for women.\nWulfhere himself was baptised, and gave his consent to his daughter\nretiring from the world. He also founded the great monastery of\nMedehamstead, afterwards Peterborough, as some expiation for his crime.\n\nBefore this, Wulfhere had been constantly engaged in extending the power\nof Mercia. He detached from Northumbria all the district south of the\nMersey, and with it got hold of Chester, of which place in later times\nhis daughter was to be regarded as patroness. He gained a hold on the\nwhole of the Severn valley and the Wye, our Herefordshire, over which he\nset his brother Merewald as under-king. Then he fought the West Saxons\nunder Cenwalch in 661, and defeated them in a signal battle, and\nextended his ravages into the heart of Wessex as far as Ashdown. Then he\nturned his arms east along the Thames valley, and brought the East\nSaxons and London under his sway. Still unsatisfied, he crossed the\nriver into Surrey, subdued it, and invaded Sussex and forced the King\nEthelwalch to submit, and to receive baptism. Werburga resolved to\nretire to Ely where her great-aunt Etheldreda was abbess. Wulfhere and\nhis court conducted her thither, in great state.\n\nWe cannot now see Ely in anything like its ancient condition. Then the\nentire district from Cambridge to the Wash was one broken sheet of water\ndotted with islets. In places there were shallows where reeds grew\ndense, the islands were fringed with rushes and willows. The vast mere\nwas a haunt of innumerable wild birds, and the water teemed with fishes.\nThe vast plain of the fens\u2014which is now in summer one sea of golden\ncorn, in winter a black dreary fallow cut up like a chess-board into\nsquares by dykes\u2014was then a tangle of meres, rank growth of waterweeds\nand copses of alders and grey poplars. The rivers Cam and Nen lost\nthemselves in the waste of waters. Trees torn up, fallen into the water,\nfloated about, formed natural rafts, lodged, and diverted what little\ncurrent there was in the streams.\n\nHere and there poles had been driven into the stiff clay that formed the\nbottom of the swamp, cross-pieces had been tied to them, then platforms\nerected six, ten feet above the surface of the water, and on these\nplatforms huts had been constructed of poles and rushes, in which lived\nfamilies, their only means of communication with each other and with the\nfirm land being by boat. On the water and by the water they lived,\ntilling little bits of land left dry in summer but submerged in winter.\n\nThe islets were outcrops of fertile land, natural parks, covered by the\nrichest grass and stateliest trees, swarming with deer and roe, goat and\nboar, as the water around swarmed with otter and beaver, and with fowl\nof every feather and fish of every scale.\n\nOf all these islets none could compare with Ely, not, as has been\nsupposed, named from the eels that were found about it, but from the\nelves who were supposed to have chosen it for their own and to dance in\nthe moonlight on its greensward.\n\nBetter, purer beings than elves, had taken possession of this enchanted\nisle\u2014S. Etheldreda and her nuns; and it was through them that the wild\nfen-dwellers, those who lived on platforms above the water, received the\nrudiments of the faith, and were ministered to in their agues and\nrheumatic paralysis.\n\nEtheldreda did not found her monastery here till 673. As Wulfhere died\nin 675, he can have accompanied his daughter there only very shortly\nafter Etheldreda\u2019s settlement in the place. There is no stone anywhere\nnear, every block that has been employed on the glorious cathedral has\nbeen brought from a distance, mostly from Barwell, in Northamptonshire.\n\nEtheldreda constructed her monastery and church entirely of wood. Great\ntrunks had been split and these split logs formed the sides of her\nchurch, and it was thatched with reeds from the marshes. The king came\nby boat; the oars flashed in the sun, and the water rippled as the\nvessels were driven through it to the landing stage. Werburga, eager,\nstood looking forward to the lovely island that seemed to float on the\nwater; if, as is probable, she was born some time before Wulfhere became\nking, she would then be between twenty-eight and thirty. At the\nlanding-stage was her great-aunt with her nuns, in black habits with\nwhite veils; and no sooner had Werburga descended from the boat than\nthey struck up the _Te Deum_, and advanced, leading the way, singing, to\ntheir wooden church.\n\nNow followed the usual trials: Werburga was first stripped of her costly\napparel, her coronet was exchanged for a linen veil, purple and silks\nwere replaced by a coarse woollen habit, and she resigned herself into\nthe hands of her superior, her great-aunt, S. Etheldreda.\n\nWe know the form of the ceremonial, and the prayers used on such an\noccasion, but we do not know who the bishop was who consecrated\nWerburga.[7] She was led to the foot of the altar, after the reading of\nthe Gospel, and was then asked for two public engagements which were\nindispensable to the validity of the act: in the first place, the\nconsent of her parents, and in the next her own promise of obedience to\nhimself and his successors. When this had been done he laid his hands\nupon her to bless her and consecrate her to God. After prayers he placed\nthe veil on her head, saying, \u201cMaiden, receive this veil, and mayest\nthou bear it stainless to the tribunal of Christ before whom bends every\nknee in heaven and on earth.\u201d\n\nBy the rules of the Anglo-Saxon Church the taking of the irrevocable\nvows was not suffered till the postulant had reached her twenty-sixth\nyear, but we cannot be sure that this rule prevailed so early. The\nCeltic Church allowed it at the age of twelve.\n\nWhen Wulfhere died, then Werburga\u2019s mother came also to Ely, and on the\ndeath of S. Etheldreda, in 679, her grandmother Sexburga, widow of\nErcombert, king of Kent, became abbess, and ruled till 699, when she\ndied, whereupon Werburga\u2019s mother succeeded. At one time three\ngenerations of princesses of the blood of Hengest and Odin were seen\ntogether in the peaceful isle of Ely, wearing the same monastic habit,\nand bowing in prayer in the same wooden church. Werburga lived long and\nhappily as a simple nun under her grandmother\u2019s and mother\u2019s kindly rule\nand direction, till, on her mother\u2019s death, she was summoned to take the\nplace of abbess.\n\nIt is very important for us to understand what was the moving principle\nat this period which led to the foundation of so many religious\nsettlements. The Saxons and Angles had been a people living in war,\nloving war, and regarding the cutting of throats and the destruction by\nfire of every house and city as the highest vocation of a man. But when\nthey had occupied the greatest portion of Britain, and further, when\nthey had embraced Christianity, a change took place in their opinions.\nThey came to see that there was some charm in peace, and dignity in the\ncultivation of the soil. But it was only after a struggle that they\ncould stoop to take hold of the plough and lay aside the spear. They\ncould be brought to this only by example, and it was this which the\nmonks and nuns issuing from their own princely, royal families showed\nthem.\n\n\u201cIn the monastic movement of this time,\u201d says Mr. Green, \u201ctwo strangely\ncontrasted impulses worked together to change the very aspect of the new\nEngland and the new English society. The one was the passion for\nsolitude, the first outcome of the religious impulse given by the\nconversion; a passion for communing apart with themselves and with God\nwhich drove men into waste and woodland and desolate fen. The other was\nthe equally new passion for social life on the part of the nation at\nlarge, the outcome of its settlement and well-doing on the conquered\nsoil, and yet more of the influence of the new religion, coming as it\ndid from the social civilisation of the older world, and insensibly\ndrawing men together by the very form of its worship and its belief. The\nsanctity of the monastic settlements served in these early days of the\nnew religion to ensure for them peace and safety in the midst of\nwhatever war or social trouble might be disturbing the country about\nthem; and the longing for a life of quiet industry, which we see telling\nfrom this moment upon the older English longing for war, drew men in\ncrowds to these so-called monasteries.\u201d[8]\n\nWulfhere was succeeded in 675 by his brother Ethelred, a quiet,\nunambitious king, who devoted his energies to the foundation of\nmonasteries, dotting them about Mercia with the object of softening and\ncivilising a people that had the instincts of the beasts of prey. He\nentrusted his niece Werburga with a sort of general supremacy over all\nthe nunneries in his kingdom. She visited them, regulated them, and\nbrought them into order, before her mother\u2019s death and her own\nappointment to the abbacy of Ely. Thus she resided for a while at the\nhead of the communities of Weedon, Trentham, and Hanbury.\n\nOne incident of her story may be quoted.\n\nIt happened that a shepherd at Weedon was being brutally maltreated by\nthe steward. The daughter of a king flew to the spot, threw herself\nbetween the overseer and the poor wretch he was beating and kicking, and\narrested his arm and thrust him back, and held him from his victim, till\nhis passion subsided, and he retired shamefaced.\n\nWerburga died at a ripe age at Trentham, on February 3rd, 699.\n\nTwo centuries later, in order to save her remains from the Danes, they\nwere conveyed to Chester, where there was a collegiate church that had\nbeen founded by her father at her request. Her body was, however, laid\nin what is now the Cathedral.\n\n\n\n\n                                   XV\n\n                             _A PROPHETESS_\n\n\nAmong the most remarkable people of the twelfth century, one who stood\nforth on the stage of history and exercised there a part of no little\nimportance, Hildegarde, is not to be passed over. Yet, when one comes to\nstudy her, she is a person who strikes the student with perplexity. She\nwas, indeed, a woman possible at all times, but only possible as one of\nsignificance in the century in which she lived.\n\nShe was one of those marvellous women who, indeed, occupied a somewhat\nanalogous place among the ancient pagan Germans\u2014a seeress, a prophetess,\neven a priestess, like Velleda or Ganna. She took up the same position\nin the Christian Middle Ages, directed, ruled, foretold, threatened, and\nwas listened to in all seriousness. Popes, prelates, kings consulted\nher, and all quailed at her threats and denunciations. She saw visions\nand dreamed dreams; she endeavoured to throw rays of light to illumine\nthe past as well as the future. She thought with her inspired eye to\nunveil the mysteries of creation. Uneducated, she dictated in Latin;\nuninstructed, she wrote on natural history; unordained, she preached\nsermons even to popes.\n\nAll kinds of people wrote to her on all kinds of subjects, and she\nsolved their difficulties, advised them in their perplexities, illumined\ntheir ignorance.\n\nShe has had imitators in all after ages\u2014Antoinette Bourgignon, Joanna\nSouthcott, Kr\u00fcdner, and Madame Blavatski\u2014but none achieved such success,\nexercised so wide an influence, was treated with so much submission.\n\nThe Emperor, the princes, the nobility, the clergy, the people all\nbelieved in her prophetic power, and accepted her commands without a\nmurmur. Her warnings and promises were received as divine revelations,\nalthough she spared no one in her denunciations.\n\nThe cause for this unbounded respect has been a matter of dispute, but\nis still inexplicable. That she was a coarse deceiver, who imposed\nherself on the people as inspired, by a long-continued course of\ndeception, cannot for a moment be allowed by such as without prejudice\nexamine her writings and her conduct. She was made a tool of, and a\nwilling tool, by S. Bernard, to further the crusade he had at heart. But\nwhen, in spite of prophecy and promise, that crusade ended in hideous\ndisaster and in dishonour as well, her influence with the people was not\nin the least shaken.\n\nAt the court of Count Meginhard of Spanheim lived the knight Hildebert\nof B\u00f6ckelheim, his kinsman. Hildebert\u2019s wife Mathilda bore him in 1098 a\ndaughter, who was named Hildegarde, on their estate a little above\nKreuznach on the Rhine. She was the tenth child, and her parents were no\nlittle concerned how to provide for such a fry. The simple expedient in\nthose days was to send some of the family into monasteries and convents.\nFrom an early date Hildegarde was destined to be a nun. She, together\nwith her kinswoman Chiltrude, the daughter of the count, were sent to be\nreared by Jutta, the abbess of S. Disibod, a sister of Count Meginhard.\nJutta was an uneducated woman; learning was of no account in her\nconvent, and Hildegarde was brought up in ignorance of nearly everything\nthat a young woman of good family ought to have acquired even in the\ntwelfth century.\n\nThat Hildegarde was hysterical cannot be doubted, but hysteria is\nprecisely the most mysterious of all ailments. The phenomena connected\nwith it are the perplexity of physicians even at this day. Many and\nponderous works have been written upon it in England, France especially,\nand Germany, but it remains still an unsolved puzzle.\n\nFrom a very early age she saw visions, and when she spoke of them to her\nplayfellows, and they stared at her and did not appear to comprehend\nwhat she said, she shrank into herself and refrained from communicating\nto others the things that she saw and heard, or fancied she saw and\nheard. Even at the age of five, this singular gift was noticed by her\nparents, who could not understand it. Jutta made the girl learn the\nPsalms in Latin, and she obtained some glimmer of an idea what the words\nmeant, but she did not even acquire a knowledge of the alphabet, nor\nthat of reading music.\n\nHildegarde was constantly unwell, but her aches and pains were\napparently due to hysteria and nothing else, and the suppressed desire\nto be doing something, making her personality felt, which was impossible\nas she was situated. When, finally, she was bidden write down her\nvisions, at once all her maladies left her.\n\n\u201cWhen, on one occasion, I was very much exhausted by my sickness,\u201d says\nshe in her own biography of herself, \u201cI asked the nurse who attended me\nwhether she saw things in any other way than with her eyes; she made me\nno answer. Then I was frightened, and I dared say no more about it to\nany one. But sometimes, inadvertently, when I was talking, I let slip\nprophetic sentences. And when I was, so to say, full of this inner\nvision, then I spoke much which was quite unintelligible to those about\nme. And when the force of the ecstasy grew, and I spoke something about\nit, more after the manner of a child than of a girl of my years, then I\nblushed and cried, and wished heartily that I had held my tongue. But\nout of dread of what would be said, I never dared to speak out openly as\nto what I saw. However (Jutta) the noble lady with whom I was had\ncognisance of this and consulted a monk of her acquaintance.\u201d\n\nTo one in this condition, plenty of exercise, wholesome food, and hard\nwork, and her head under the pump if she gave way to her fancies, would\nhave been proper treatment. But in the twelfth century no one had any\nconception that hysteria was a physical disorder.\n\nJutta died in 1136, and by unanimous vote of the sisters Hildegarde was\nelected to be superior of the convent, when aged eight-and-thirty. She\nhad now full opportunity to give way to her desire to take that\nprominent place to which she felt she was called. Two years, however,\nelapsed before she had made up her mind to write her visions and\nprophecies. There were difficulties in her way: she could not write, she\nknew nothing of grammar, and she was perhaps dubious how the world would\naccept revelations which were in shockingly bad grammar and spelling,\nand displayed profound ignorance of the real meaning of Scripture.\nHowever, she consulted one of the monks of the monastery of S. Disibod,\nand he put the matter before the rest.\n\nNow, as she was evidently sincere, and there could be no suspicion that\nHildegarde was deceiving them, they had to decide whether these visions\nwere from heaven or from hell. That there was a third alternative never\nfor an instant occurred to them: it could not, in the nature of things,\nin the then condition of medical science, or rather ignorance.\nManifestly there was nothing bad in these revelations, consequently the\npoor amiable monks were compelled to decide that they came from God.\n\nThe difficulty now arose how they were to be published. It was obviously\nimpossible to issue to the world the farrago of grammatic blunders, and\nthe confused nonsense of much that poured from her lips, and so she was\ngiven secretaries to write down in decent Latin what they supposed she\nmeant to say. The Archbishop Henry of Mayence was called in before the\ndecisive step was taken. He was an amiable, peace-loving, but feeble\nman, who was made archbishop in 1142. He gave his verdict in favour of\nthe revelations.\n\nHildegarde says of herself: \u201cIn 1141, when I was forty-two years old and\nseven months, there came on me a dazzling light from heaven, and flashed\nthrough my brains and heart and bosom. It was like a flame that does not\nburn, but warms, just like a sunbeam. From thenceforth I had the gift of\nthe interpretation of the Scriptures, the Psalms, the Gospels, and the\nbooks of the Old and New Testament. I had, however, no understanding of\nthe several words of the text, as to their syllables and cases and\ntenses. When I have my visions\u2014and I have had them from childhood\u2014I am\nnot asleep, nor feverish, nor am I necessarily in retirement, nor do I\nsee with my bodily eyes, but with those of my soul.\u201d Later she wrote: \u201cI\nam always in a fear and tremble, as I have no certainty within me. But I\nlift up my hands to heaven, and allow myself to be blown about just like\na feather in the wind.\u201d\n\nHer first book was called by her _Scivias_; which was her contraction\nfor _Disce vias Domini_, \u201cknow the ways of the Lord.\u201d Probably only the\nfirst part of it was sent to the Archbishop of Mayence, who gravely\ncalled his clergy into consultation over it. Then, when Pope Eugenius\nIII. came to Treves on his way to the Council of Rheims, he was shown it\nby the archbishop; he gave it to the Bishop of Verdun and other\ntheologians to be examined. Afterwards, on their report, at the Council\nin 1148, he read it himself to the bishops there assembled, and it was\nreceived with applause.\n\nS. Bernard was present, and he at once saw how much assistance he could\nget in promoting his darling object, a new crusade, if he could enlist\nHildegarde in the cause; and he urged the pope to sanction and bless the\nprophetess. This Eugenius did in a letter, in which he accorded her his\nfull permission to publish whatever was revealed to her. He could hardly\ndo other. These writings were well intended, purported to do good, and\nthat these visions and prophecies were the mere hallucinations of a\ndiseased mind never could have been supposed at the time.\n\nHildegarde now shifted her quarters. Troops of women had come to place\nthemselves under her direction, drawn by her fame. She settled on S.\nRuprechtsberg, near Bingen, where a suitable convent was erected for\nher.\n\nBut the good monks of S. Disibod asked a favour of her which she could\nnot refuse. They knew next to nothing about their founder, except that\nhe was one of the many Irish who had left their native isle in the fifth\ncentury and had spread over Germany and Gaul. Would she through her\nprophetic power, which looked backwards as well as forwards, write them\n\u201cby revelation\u201d a life of their founder?\n\nThis she accordingly did, and the life she wrote was, she insists, given\nher \u201cby revelation.\u201d It is a long and tedious work, a gush of weak and\nwatery verbiage. When reduced to its elementary constituents, it is\nfound to consist of absolutely nothing more than what was already\nknown\u2014that Disibod came from Ireland, settled on the mount that bore his\nname afterwards, and died there. But this was distended into a tract of\n6,250 words.\n\nHildegarde\u2019s \u201cNatural History\u201d is a very funny book. She did not pretend\nto derive her knowledge of the property of things from inspiration, but\nthere can be little doubt that, at the time when it was issued, those\nwho regarded her prophecies as infallible, looked also on her\nenunciation of the properties of natural objects as inspired.\n\nShe begins the book by likening the world to a human body: the earth is\nthe flesh, the rocks are the bones, the moisture of the stones is the\nmarrow, the slate rocks are the toe and finger nails, the plants are the\nhair, and the dew is the perspiration. All plants are either hot or\ncold; so also are all animals. This is the radical division between\nthem. The recipes given are profoundly silly. For a boil, house-flies\nare to be taken, their heads cut off, and they are to be arranged like\nherrings in a barrel round the swelling. A poultice is to cover all\u2014but\nit is the flies that bring the gathering to a head. Here is one of the\nshortest of her botanical accounts\u2014that of the meadow convolvulus. \u201cThe\nherb is cold, it has not great powers nor is it of much use. But if a\nman\u2019s nails get scaly and crack, then let him grind up the convolvulus,\nmix with it a little quicksilver and lay it on his nails, tie a bit of\nrag round, and his nails will be lovely.\u201d\n\nHildegarde wrote a commentary on the Rule of S. Benedict, another on the\nAthanasian Creed. She propounded difficult questions in Scripture, and\nsolved them by her inner light, only making the difficulties greater,\nand always missing the simple meaning of a passage.\n\nS. Hildegarde had her troubles. She did not get on very well with the\nArchbishops of Mayence. At the instigation of S. Bernard she inflamed\nthe minds of the people with a fever of zeal against the Saracens, and\nexhorted to a crusade. This resulted in a frightful massacre of Jews at\nMayence, instigated by a monk named Badulf. The Archbishop Henry, a\nmild, amiable man, did what he could to protect the unfortunate\nIsraelites, and opened to them his palace. But a papal legate appeared\non the scene, and the Chapter induced him to depose the archbishop. He\nappealed to Rome, but the cardinals were bribed to declare against him.\nHe had chosen his confidential friend, Arnold of Selnhofen, to take what\nmoney he could scrape together to Rome and plead his cause. Arnold made\nthe most solemn assurances of fidelity, and betrayed his trust. He used\nthe money entrusted to him to purchase the deposition of his friend and\nhis own advancement.\n\nThe people of Mayence were greatly incensed against Arnold, who was\nthrust on them by the pope himself, without election by the Chapter, and\nwas invested by the pope the same day on which the friend was degraded\nwhom he had betrayed. On reaching Mayence Arnold did nothing to appease\nthe popular resentment; his court was magnificent, his servants were\nsplendidly liveried, and his table was noted for its luxury. Knowing\nwhat a power Hildegarde was in the diocese, he wrote a hypocritical,\ncanting letter to her, beseeching her prayers. She replied with a sharp\nadmonition: \u201cThe living Light saith unto thee, Thou hast a form of zeal\nonly, which I hate. Cleanse restlessness from thy soul, and cease from\ndoing injustice to thy people. Rise up and turn to the Lord, for the\ntime cometh speedily.\u201d\n\nSeeing the ferment of men\u2019s minds increase, Arnold resolved on leaving\nBingen, where he then was, to go into his cathedral city and put down\nall resistance with a high hand. He purposed lodging the first night in\nthe monastery of S. James, outside the walls. Hildegarde warned him of\nhis danger, but he would not listen. A friend, the abbot of Erbach, also\ncautioned him. \u201cBah!\u201d scoffed the archbishop, \u201cthese Mainzers are dogs;\nthey bark, but do not bite.\u201d When Hildegarde heard this, she said, \u201cThe\ndogs have had their chains broken, and they will tear you to pieces.\u201d\n\nHe scorned these warnings, and in June 1160 went to the monastery in\nwhich he had purposed to lodge. But he had rushed, unwittingly, into the\njaws of the lion, for the abbot of S. James was his most deadly enemy.\nThe abbot at once sent tidings to the city that the archbishop was\nthere. A mob poured out of the city gates. The archbishop, hearing the\nroar of their voices and the tramp of their feet, was paralysed with\nfear; the rioters entered the abbey, rushed upon him, and a butcher\nsplit his head with an axe. The dead body was dragged forth and cast\ninto a ditch, where the peasant women, coming to market, pelted it with\nrotten eggs and bad cheese.\n\nIn 1150 Christian was archbishop, but he was in Italy. He was a man of\narms, who loved fighting, and had no relish for the duties of his\nposition. During his absence Hildegarde got into difficulties with the\nadministrator of the see. A certain young man had been buried in the\ncemetery attached to her monastery who had incurred excommunication. An\norder was sent her to dig the body up and throw it out of consecrated\nground. This she refused to do. She insisted that the young fellow had\nbeen absolved and had received the last sacraments, and she furnished a\nvision in which she had been forbidden to exhume the body. But the\nadministrator did not repose such confidence in her visions as to\nsubmit. An interdict was laid on her convent, so that the sisters were\nforbidden to recite their offices and to have the sacraments\nadministered there.\n\nNo priest in the diocese dared disobey, and the whole convent was struck\nwith paralysis. Hildegarde wrote, but could obtain no concession. Then\nshe appealed to the military bishop, who was in Italy. The administrator\nsent his account of the affair, and the interdict was renewed. So time\npassed. Hildegarde still obstinately, and rightly, refused to have the\nbody dug up and cast to the dogs. She wrote again to the archbishop, and\nfinally obtained a removal of the interdict. As she complained, there\nhad been no investigation into the facts\u2014it had been a party move of\nspite against herself.\n\nAlthough in 1170 Hildegarde was aged seventy-two, her literary energy\ndid not fail. She still composed treatises, and continued to write\nletters in answer to those she received, or to thunder against those\npersons whose conduct deserved reprobation. Her correspondence extended\nfrom Bremen and the Netherlands, to Rome, and even to Jerusalem. Her\ndenunciations of abuses, corruptions in the Church, were outspoken, and\nshe even prophesied the fall of the empire and a reformation in\nreligion; but the condition of affairs both in the state and in\nChristendom were so bad, that it required but little foresight to tell\nthat such could not possibly last without a convulsion.\n\nHer style is not without a certain amount of rude eloquence, but is\ninvolved. Those who took down her words were clearly not always able to\nmake out the drift of what she said; but, indeed, she herself probably\ncould not wholly explain them. The words poured forth in a stream,\nrolling her ideas about in confusion, and she was impatient of her\nsecretaries meddling over-much with her revelations and prophecies, lest\nthey should make sense indeed, but at the expense of their genuine\ncharacter.\n\nShe had one of those eager, restless minds, which at the present day\nwould have made of her a platform oratress, a vehement writer in\nmagazines, and a reformer on school and hospital boards: always vehement\nwith purpose. Her activity, as already said, took several\ndirections\u2014that of exhortation to repentance and good works, that of\ndeep theological research, and of Scriptural interpretation, that also\nof the study of Natural History. But she did more than that: she wrote\nhymns and composed melodies. She had never been taught musical science\nas then understood. That was no loss to her. Her airs are as rambling\nand incoherent as her prophecies.\n\nShe also pretended to speak in an unknown tongue, and to be able to\ninterpret this language. The study of this pretended new language is\nsuggestive and amusing. It has been taken in hand by Grimm, Pitra and\nRoth. It presents an amusing jumble of words German, Latin, and\nmisunderstood Hebrew.\n\nHildegarde died at the age of eighty-two, in 1179. She has not been\nformally canonised; she is, however, inserted as a saint in the Roman\nkalendar on September 17th, the day of her death.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. CLARA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  XVI\n\n                               _S. CLARA_\n\n\nIt has been often remarked how that a saint who initiates a reform, or\ndoes some great work, has a faithful woman to assist, or carry on his\nwork, and complete it. What he designed for all alike, he was competent\nonly to apply to men, and she carried out his ideas among women. Thus S.\nBridget supplemented the achievements of S. Patrick, and S. Hilda those\nof S. Aidan. Benedict\u2019s twin sister Scholastica worked side by side with\nher brother; and, as we shall now see, S. Clara was the spiritual sister\nand helpmate of S. Francis. The moon, according to David, is an ever\nfaithful witness in heaven; and yet the moon wanes and for a time\ndisappears. The moon much resembles the Church.\n\n                \u201cThe moon above, the Church below,\n                    A wondrous race they run;\n                 And all their radiance, all their glow,\n                    Each borrows from its sun.\u201d\n\nAs the moon wanes, so there are periods when the Church proves dull,\ndark, and without much token of spiritual life; but this is for a time\nonly, and precedes a restoration of illumination. The period when S.\nFrancis appeared was one of those of darkness in the Church. The\nenthusiastic faith of the barbarian kings and nobles, bred of the\nself-devotion and earnestness of the first missionaries among them, had\nled to their endowing the Church largely. This was done to enable her to\ncarry on the great work of evangelisation without care for the material\nconcerns of life. But it led to an unfortunate result. As the bishoprics\nwere wealthy, and seats of power, ambitious and greedy men of the noble\nclass rushed into Holy Orders for the sake of these material advantages,\nand in entire disregard of the religious responsibilities attached to\nsuch offices. And as with the prelates, so with the clergy. They seemed\nto think that the things of Jesus Christ were best served by making\nthemselves comfortable; they were ignorant, careless, and worldly. The\ngreat ecclesiastics made a display of their wealth, and exercised their\npower tyrannically. \u201cThe Church might still seem to preach to all,\u201d says\nDean Milman; \u201cbut it preached in a tone of lofty condescension, it\ndictated rather than persuaded; but, in general, actual preaching had\nfallen into disuse; it was in theory the special privilege of the\nbishops, and the bishops were but few who had either the gift, the\ninclination, or the leisure from their secular, judicial, or warlike\noccupations to preach even in their cathedral cities; in the rest of\ntheir dioceses their presence was but occasional\u2014a progress or\nvisitation of pomp and form, rather than of popular instruction. The\nonly general teaching of the people was the ritual.\n\n\u201cBut the splendid ritual, admirably as it was constituted to impress by\nits words or symbolic forms the leading truths of Christianity upon the\nmore intelligent, or in a vague way upon the more rude and uneducated,\ncould be administered, and was administered, by a priesthood almost\nentirely ignorant, but which had learned mechanically, not without\ndecency, perhaps not without devotion, to go through the stated\nobservances. Everywhere the bell summoned to the frequent service, the\nservice was performed, and the obedient flock gathered to the chapel or\nthe church, knelt, and either performed their orisons or heard the\ncustomary chant and prayer. This, the only instruction which the mass of\nthe priesthood could convey, might for a time be sufficient to maintain\nin the minds of the people a quiescent and submissive faith,\nnevertheless, in itself, could not but awaken in some a desire of\nknowledge, which it could not satisfy.... And just at this time the\npopular mind throughout Christendom seemed to demand instruction. There\nwas a wide and vague awakening and yearning of the human intellect. Here\nthat which was heresy stepped in and seized upon the vacant mind.\nPreaching in public and in private was the strength of all the\nheresiarchs, of all the sects. Eloquence, popular eloquence, became a\nnew power which the Church had comparatively neglected or disdained,\nsince the time of the Crusades. The Patropassians, the Henricians, the\nfollowers of Peter Waldo, and the wilder teachers at least, tinged with\nthe old Manich\u00e6an tenets of the East, met on this common ground. They\nwere poor and popular; they felt with the people, whether the lower\nburghers of the cities, the lower vassals, or even the peasants and\nserfs; they spoke the language of the people, they were of the people.\nAll these sects were bound together by their common aversion to the\nclergy\u2014not only the wealthy, worldly, immoral, tyrannical, but the\ndecent yet inert priesthood, who left the uninstructed souls of men to\nperish.\u201d[9]\n\nIt was when, apparently, the bulk of the population was hesitating\nwhether to break away from the Church, and when certain ardent spirits\nbegan to question whether the Church could be the Kingdom of God,\nwherein appeared so much of evil, that almost simultaneously two men\nstood forth to arrest the evil. The story was told afterwards that the\npope in a dream had seen the Church under the form of a building\ntottering to its fall, but that two men rushed forward and sustained it.\nThese men were Dominic and Francis. The former founded an order of\npreachers, by which Christendom in the West was overspread with a host\nof zealous, active, and devoted men, whose function was popular\ninstruction.\n\nFrancis, seeing the universal greed after lands and money, took the vow\nof poverty, made that a capital point in his institution. The grasping\nafter possessions should never curse his society, and he donned, and\nmade his disciples don, the poor, coarse dress of the common labourer,\nto show that they were to be ever of the people, and for the people,\neven for the lowest. And he aimed first of all to encourage piety\u2014the\nstriving of the soul after God\u2014and to show that within the Church that\nflame could burn brightest and give out most heat. But he taught as\nwell. It was due to his great desire to bring home to the people the\ntruth of the Incarnation, that he devised the _cr\u00e8che_ of Christmas, and\ncomposed the first Christmas carols. And he was a preacher\u2014fervent,\ninspired, convincing. His heart so overflowed with love, that even birds\nand beasts were attracted to him, and his love extended to them\u2014\u201chis\nsisters and brothers,\u201d as he termed them.\n\nThe story of the conversion of S. Francis, the wealthy merchant\u2019s son,\nis well known. He was a young man, just at the age when the deepest\nfeelings of man\u2019s nature begin to make themselves articulate. One\nevening he was revelling with his companions of the same age with\nhimself. When supper was over, the merry party dashed out of the hot,\nlighted room into the open air. The dark indigo-blue vault of heaven\noverhead was besprent with myriads of stars, and Francis suddenly\nhalted, looked up, and remained silent in contemplation of this wondrous\ncanopy.\n\n\u201cWhat ails you, Francis?\u201d asked one of the revellers.\n\n\u201cHe is star-gazing for a wife,\u201d joked another.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Francis gravely, \u201cfor a wife past all that your imagination\ncan conceive.\u201d\n\nHis soul with inarticulate cravings strained after something higher than\na merchant\u2019s life behind a counter, a nobler life than revelling and\ndrunkenness. Then probably he first conceived the idea of embracing\npoverty, and of devoting his whole life to his poor brothers.\n\nThe first great gathering of the Order he founded was in 1212, and that\nsame year saw the establishment of a sisterhood in connection with the\nSociety. It came about thus:\u2014\n\nFavorino Scefi was a man of noble family in Assisi, given to the\nprofession of arms, and a good swordsman; his wife, Hortulana, had\npresented him with three daughters, Clara, Agnes, and Beatrix, but no\nson.\n\nOne day\u2014it was Palm Sunday\u2014in the before-mentioned year, when Clara was\naged eighteen, she and her mother were present when Francis preached.\nThe effect of his sermon on her young heart was overwhelming and\nineradicable. From this moment she resolved to leave the world and its\nsplendours, and the prospect of marriage, and to devote her whole life\nto God and to the advancement of His kingdom.\n\nWhat she was to do, what God\u2019s designs were, all was dark before her;\nonly in her was the intense longing to place herself in His hands, that\nHe might use her as He saw fit. And it appeared to her that her desire\nhad been known and her self-offering accepted. As already said, it was\nPalm Sunday, and the custom was for the bishop to bless the palms that\nwere presented him by the deacon, and to distribute them among those who\ncame up in single file to the altar steps. Clara, shy and retiring, hung\nback. The bishop\u2019s eye rested on her. All at once he stepped down into\nthe nave, the acolytes bearing their tapers before him, and carrying a\npalm branch, he placed it in the hands of the shrinking maiden.\n\nTo her it was as a consecration.\n\nIn the evening she ran to the chapel of the Portiuncula, where Francis\nand his disciples were installed; she fell on her knees and implored to\nbe received, and given work to do. In a paroxysm of devotion she plucked\noff her little ornaments, and tore away her rich dress.\n\nFrancis, unable as he was unwilling to refuse her offer of herself, cast\nover her a coarse habit, and she was enrolled in the ranks of the\nChampions of Poverty.\n\nBut where was the young girl to be put? He had no other female\nadherents. He accordingly took her to the Benedictine nunnery of S.\nPaolo, where she was to remain till he had considered what to do with\nher.\n\nThe parents of Clara were indignant and annoyed when they learned what\nshe had done, and they endeavoured by every means to induce her to\nreturn to them. They even employed violence. She escaped from them to\nthe altar, and laid hold of the cloth that covered it. They tried to\ndrag her away, but she clung with such tenacity as to tear the very\ncloth to which she clung.\n\nClara now removed to another convent of Benedictins, S. Angelo di Panso,\nwhere she spent a fortnight in prayer and silence, considering the step\nshe had taken.\n\nAt the end of that time her sister Agnes, two years younger than\nherself, came and entreated to be allowed to remain with her. The father\nwas very angry, and called the members of the family together to consult\non the matter. Nothing, however, could be done; the two girls were\nresolute.\n\nIn the meantime S. Francis was busy preparing a dwelling for them near a\nlittle church of S. Damian that he had restored. When this was complete\nhe removed them to it. Many girls and even women now joined the sisters,\nand constituted a little community. Francis was appealed to for a rule\nby which they might form their lives, but this he was unwilling to give.\nLet them, said he, take Clara herself as their example.\n\nPresently, little Beatrix arrived. She could not bear to be alone in the\nnow desolate home, she yearned to be with her sisters. She also was\naccepted. After the death of her husband Hortulana also joined them, so\nthat mother and daughters were united again.\n\nAs the fundamental rule of Francis was absolute poverty, his brothers\nwere obliged to beg their bread. They went round the town and country\nwith sacks, asking for scraps of food; and as it would not be seemly for\nthe sisters of the house at S. Damian to do the same, the friars were\nconstrained to divide their crusts with them.\n\nGregory IX. very sensibly objected to the friars going in and out of the\nconvent, and he forbade it. \u201cVery well,\u201d said Clara; \u201cif holy brothers\nmay not minister to us the Bread of Life, they shall not provide us with\nthe bread that perishes,\u201d and she refused the crusts and broken meat\nthey had collected on their rounds. What was to be done? The whole\nconvent would starve. In a few days the Poor Clares would be dead. An\nexpress was sent to the Pope. Gregory could defy an emperor, and that\nsuch an one as Frederick Barbarossa; but he was no match for an\nobstinate woman. He gave way.\n\nThe rule imposed on the sisterhood by S. Clara was one of dreary\npenance. Their services in church were to be without music, even on the\nhigh festivals. She would not allow those who were ignorant to learn to\nread, so that to such these services were unintelligible.\n\nIn fact, extravagance marked all she did. She did not suffer the sisters\never to interchange a word with each other without permission, and they\nwere all shut up in their convent, which they might not leave. It is\ntrue that S. Francis did slightly modify some of this severity. But his\nown rule of absolute poverty was a mistake. He intended it as a protest\nagainst the money and land grabbing which prevailed, not among laymen\nonly, but among ecclesiastics, and also among the monks; but he went too\nfar. He turned his friars into mere beggars. If he had insisted that\nthey should be poor and work for their livelihood, that would have been\nwell; but to employ them as tramps, begging from door to door, and\nsponging on the honest, hard-working people, was a fatal mistake, and\nled to very bad results.\n\nSo also Clara, in the hope of keeping her sisters devoted only to the\nservice of God, dissuaded, nay, forbade, reading. In place of\ncultivating the intellect\u2014a splendid gift of God\u2014she made those under\nher direction bury their talents.\n\nInsensibly, the Manich\u00e6an heresy had penetrated all minds, and made men\nand women think that the body was evil and must be tortured and bullied,\nand all that was human trampled underfoot, that the soul alone should be\ncared for. The result was the production of hysterical, ecstatic beings,\nwho were helpless to do anything for themselves, and were, so far as\ntheir minds went, idiots.\n\nS. Clara\u2019s work would have been worse than useless, positively\nmischievous, had it not been for one thing. S. Francis, in order to\nextend religion among the people, had instituted a third branch of his\ninstitution, of which the second was that of the Poor Clares. This third\norder comprised men and women living in the world\u2014in fact, a great guild\nof pious people, observing very simple rules, which bound all together\nin the service of God, His Church, and the poor and sick. This spread\nlike wildfire: everywhere men and women, husbands and wives, young men\nand girls, rich and poor, nobles and merchants, day-labourers and\nneedlewomen, joined this community, encouraged each other in good works,\nand learned, by knowing each other, to lose class exclusiveness.\n\nInevitably the charge of the female members of the third order devolved\non the Poor Clares. Then other duties sprang up. There were plenty of\nlittle orphan girls adrift; these had to be cared for, and the Clares\ntook charge of them. The devout desired to have their daughters taught\nby them, and they were constrained to open schools,\u2014and thus to\ncultivate their own minds, and abandon the rule of silence, or at least\nto modify it. Consequently the order of Poor Clares did a great deal of\ngood, but not in the way in which S. Clara desired.\n\nThe time was one of furious intestinal war in Italy between the factions\nof Guelph and Ghibelline, and there were far more women than men, as the\nlatter had fallen. Children were left without fathers, wives lost their\nhusbands, girls were deprived of their natural protectors, and the\nconvent served as an asylum for these unfortunates, who otherwise would\nhave succumbed.\n\nIn 1220 occurred a scene bearing some resemblance to that of the last\nmeeting of S. Benedict and his sister. S. Clara felt a great desire to\nbe with S. Francis and to eat with him; but he constantly refused. At\nlength his companions, seeing how this troubled her, said to him,\n\u201cFather, it seems to us that this sternness is not in accordance with\nChristian charity. Pay attention to Clara, and consent to her request.\nIt is but a small thing that she desires of you\u2014just to eat with her.\nRemember how that, at your preaching, she forsook all that the world\noffers.\u201d\n\nS. Francis answered, \u201cAs it is so in your eyes, so let it be. Let the\nfeast be held at the Church of the Portiuncula, for it was in that that\nshe took the vows.\u201d\n\nWhen the appointed day arrived, S. Clara went forth from her convent\nwith one companion, and came to the place appointed, and waited till\nFrancis should arrive. After awhile he appeared, and he caused their\ncommon meal to be prepared on the grass. He seated himself beside Clara,\nand one of his friars beside the nun who had attended S. Clara. Then all\nthe rest of the company gathered about them.\n\nDuring the first course S. Francis spoke of God so sweetly, so tenderly,\nthat all were rapt in ecstasy, and forgetting their food, remained\nwondering and thinking only of God.\n\nWhen the repast was ended, Clara returned to San Damiani greatly\ncomforted. This was her only meeting, for other purposes than those of\nghostly counsel, with her friend and father.\n\nS. Francis died in 1226, six years after the meeting; but Clara lived on\nfor more than a quarter of a century after his decease.\n\nConcerning the austerities practised by S. Clara it is unnecessary to\nwrite: a knowledge of them would provoke disgust; but they have probably\nbeen vastly exaggerated, for had they been what is represented, she\ncould not have lived forty-two years of self-torture. As she died she\nwas heard murmuring that she saw our Lord surrounded with virgins\ncrowned with flowers, and that one, whose wreath was \u201clike a windowed\ncenser,\u201d bowed over her and kissed her.\n\nShe died in 1257.\n\nWe cannot say of S. Clara that she originated a great work of utility.\nShe supplemented the undertaking of S. Francis, and carried his\nextravagances to a further extreme. But she was sincere, she held to her\npurpose; and although her foundation was one void of common-sense and\nright principles, yet, because well intended, it worked itself into one\nof utility, and continues to the present day in the Latin Communion\ndoing good service.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: S. THERESA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                  XVII\n\n                              _S. THERESA_\n\n\nThe most beautiful and pathetic female figure that stands out in the age\nof the great convulsion which rent Europe into two religious camps, is\nthat of Theresa of Avila: beautiful, because of her exquisitely pure and\nsincere character and strength of purpose; pathetic, because all her\nsaintliness, all her energies, were directed in a false channel, and to\nbuild up what crumbled to pieces almost as soon as the breath left her\nbody.\n\nS. Theresa was born at Avila, in Spain, in the province of the same name\nand the kingdom of Castile, 1515. Her parents belonged to the class of\ngentry, and were well connected, but not wealthy.\n\n\u201cTo know Avila,\u201d says Miss G. C. Graham, in her book _Santa Teresa_, \u201cto\nwander through its streets, to watch the sun rise and set over the\nsombre moorlands beyond the city walls\u2014is greatly to know Teresa. In one\nof its fortress-houses, where on the shield over the gateway the\nbucklers of the Davilas were quartered with the rampant lion of the\nCepedas, she was born and passed her childhood. In the cathedral which\nlooms over the city walls, half church, half fortress, she worshipped\nand gazed with ardent eyes, and with a thrill of wonder and terror, into\nthe dim mysteries of its roof. In the quiet cloisters of the Encarnacion\nshe passed the greater part of her life of peace and contemplation.\nThese time-stained stones, these silent cloisters\u2014all that remains in\noutward bodily form of that strangely complex age, which produced her\nand the gentle San Juan de la Cruz, so different from her in character\nand tendencies, together with Philip II., the gloomy and conscientious\nbigot who championed both\u2014shaped and moulded her existence, shut in and\ncontrolled her life. Most meet background for her whose whole life was\nto be one long battle, this city of warriors and knights\u2014their very\nmemory all shadowy.\u201d\n\nHer father was twice married, and Theresa was the eldest daughter by the\nsecond wife, who bore him seven sons and two daughters. By his first\nwife he had two sons and a daughter. She says of this family, \u201cThey were\nall bound to one another by a tender love, and all resembled their\nparents in virtue except myself.\u201d\n\nThe young men for the most part went to the \u201cIndies\u201d to carve out\nfortunes for themselves, but always looked back wistfully and with love\nto the old home and the dear sisters and parents there. There was much\nthat was grand and full of promise in ancient Spanish life\u2014great\ndomestic attachment, simplicity, integrity, and self-respect, together\nwith a dauntless spirit and a love of adventure. But a fatal darkness\ncame over it. The liberal and democratic institutions of the country\nwere destroyed by the King\u2019s ambition of obtaining absolute power; and,\nworst of all, the Inquisition was suffered to scotch and kill all free\nintellectual life.\n\nTheresa from an early age was full of vital, intellectual and spiritual\nenergies, but none of these was allowed an outlet. With her\nextraordinary powers, and with her indomitable will, had her energies\nbeen directed to expand in practical good works, she might have\ntransformed the position of her countrywomen.\n\nIt was, perhaps, impossible for Theresa to revolutionise the position of\nwomen in Spain; the thought of attempting such a thing did not occur to\nher. So she did the only thing that seemed possible\u2014immure them; that\nthey might not gossip, nor fritter their lives in visiting and\nentertaining.\n\nTo return to her biography.\n\nHer favourite brother, Rodrigo, four years older than herself, was her\ncompanion in play. Along with him she pored over an old book of the\nLives of the Saints and Martyrs. \u201cWhen I saw the martyrdom which they\nhad suffered for God,\u201d she wrote in after years, \u201cit seemed to me that\nthey had bought the enjoyment of God very cheaply, and I longed to die\nlike them. Together with my brother I discoursed how it would be\npossible to accomplish this. We agreed to go to the land of the Moors,\nbegging our way for the love of God, there to be beheaded; and it seems\nto me that the Lord gave us courage even at so tender an age, if we\ncould have discovered a means of accomplishing what we desired. But our\nparents seemed to us the great obstacle.\u201d It is said that the two\nchildren actually started, carrying with them provisions for the\njourney. She was then only six or seven. They got out of the town and on\nto the bridge, where their uncle, who was jogging into Avila on\nhorseback, saw them, stopped and asked what they were about, and whither\ngoing. He at once took them home again.\n\nAfter her mother\u2019s death her father took her to the convent of the\nEncarnacion. Her elder sister had been married in 1531, and there was no\none to look after her at home. In the peaceful retreat of the convent\nshe remained for a year and a half, till, falling ill, she was sent\nhome. A visit she paid during her convalescence to her sister Maria, the\nwife of a Castilian gentleman who had a country house two days\u2019 journey\nfrom Avila, determined her vocation. Half-way lived her uncle, Pedro de\nCepeda, in an old manor-house. He was a grave, formal gentleman, without\nwife and children, who attended to his estate, and read only religious\nbooks. The young girl stayed the night in his house, and the old man\nasked her to read aloud to him one of his favourite books of devotion.\nOut of courtesy she concealed her distaste, and read to him in the\nevening. She remained there more than one night, probably because not\nstrong enough to proceed upon her journey, and every evening continued\nthe reading. She says: \u201cAlthough the days I stayed with him were few,\nsuch was the effect the words of God I read and heard had on my heart,\nand the good companionship, that I began to understand the truth\u2014that\nall was nothing, and that the world was vanity, and that everything\nended speedily.\u201d She prosecuted her journey after this rest, but her\nmind was working out the solution of her own destiny. She saw life under\na new aspect.\n\nShe made up her mind to become a nun, though without any very sincere\nvocation. Her father gave his consent, and she entered the convent of\nthe Encarnacion as a novice.\n\nThe sisterhood was easy-going and numerous. So many men at this period\nwent to the New World, that women abounded, and having nowhere else to\ngo, settled into convents for their convenience, and not for the sake of\ndevotion. \u201cThe discipline,\u201d says Miss Graham, \u201cwas not severe; in its\natmosphere of relaxation and secularism, worldly rank was as potent as\nin this century: no strict, demure sisterhood that of the Encarnacion,\nwhere nearly a hundred merry, noisy, squabbling, sometimes hungry and\nchattering, women made the best of a life forced on them.\u201d\n\nIt was a convenient, harmless sort of pension for middle-aged ladies who\nwere single; but, of course, not quite suited to young girls without a\nvocation. The sisters went about, paid visits, received friends, just as\nin an hotel. All would have been well enough had they been given\ndefinite work\u2014the education of poor girls, Sunday-schools, nursing the\nsick, the care of orphans\u2014but they had nothing to occupy their time or\ntheir minds except the choir offices in Latin, which they did not\nunderstand.\n\nFor a while Theresa fell in with this sort of life, frivolity and\nreligion mixed in equal proportions\u2014frivolity bred of idleness. But it\ndid not satisfy her; it was not what she wanted. She was full of impulse\nand had a soul desirous of better things. Not for a moment did the\nthought dawn on her that these good women might be made useful in their\ngeneration. A woman is hardly ever an innovator, and the notion of\ninnovation never entered the mind of Theresa. The only course that she\ncould take was to make the enclosure of the nuns strict, and to impose\nsilence on their flow of silly talk. Consequently she brooded on the\nidea of a reform, and a reform in this direction.\n\nTheresa returned to the Encarnacion after a serious catalyptic attack,\non Palm Sunday, 1537. She was then about twenty-two; and twenty-five\nyears of her life were spent within its walls in spiritual and physical\ntroubles, all produced by the same cause\u2014having nothing worthy of her\npowers to occupy her.\n\nThrough all these years this grand woman, full of practical commonsense,\nwith fervent devotion to God in her heart, fired with desire to do\nsomething for Him, with a really wonderful tact and charm of manner that\nwas irresistible, had been chafing at her impotence.\n\nTalking with a friend one day, she heard that certain nuns of the\nCarmelite Order, to which the Encarnacion belonged, had gone back to\nobservance of the primitive rule. What that primitive rule was she did\nnot know; but the friend, a widow lady, said: \u201cHow should you like to\njoin me, and become barefooted nuns, and help me to found a convent of\nthis sort?\u201d The idea fired the brain of Theresa, and she went to the\nSuperior to ask permission to start a convent of the strict rule. The\nSuperior and Provincial gave their consent after great hesitation, and\narranged that the new house should contain thirteen nuns, and enjoy a\nfixed revenue. But here S. Theresa interposed; she positively refused to\nhave a revenue. The house must be founded in absolute poverty.\n\n\u201cAs soon as our intention began to get wind in the town, there arose\nsuch a storm of persecution as is quite indescribable. The scoffs, the\njeers, the laughter, the outcries that this was a ridiculous, fantastic\nundertaking, were more than I can speak of.\u201d\n\nThe Provincial, thinking it would not do to run counter to popular\nopinion, changed his mind, and refused to permit the foundation.\n\n\u201cIn the meantime I was in very bad odour in the house where I was,\nbecause I wished to draw the enclosure more tight. The sisters said that\nI insulted them, and that God was served well in their convent, and that\nit would be far better for me to devote my energies to procuring money\nfor that house already existing than to found a new one. Some even\nwanted to put me in prison, and there were but few who took my part.\u201d\n\nAfter about six months she persuaded her sister with great secrecy to\nbuy her a house in Avila. Then, delighted to have a mystery to play\nwith, she set to work to prepare for turning this house into a convent\nof barefooted Carmelites. Happily for her she obtained the favour of the\nbishop, and also a papal brief; and then very secretly, on S.\nBartholomew\u2019s Day, 1562, she and a few intimates moved into this house.\nAll went on smoothly till after dinner. Theresa had lain down for her\n_siesta_, when the house was disturbed by the arrival of a messenger\nfrom the convent of the Encarnacion with peremptory orders for her\nreturn as well as that of two of the nuns she had persuaded to follow\nher. The convent was in wild excitement. She was obliged to return, but\nshe was able to hold her own; she had the papal brief to display.\n\nWhat follows is comical. The town council and the cathedral chapter were\nconvulsed at the news. The mayor sent messages about to convoke a grand\nassembly of the city council to decide what was to be done, and orders\nto Theresa to leave the house. But she was resolute. Then, when the town\ncouncil was baffled, the mayor endeavoured to effect a compromise, being\nmuch put out at a woman having defied all the city magnates. But she\nflourished in his face the brief and an authorisation from the bishop,\nand he returned defeated. The city magnates in high dudgeon appealed to\nthe sovereign, Philip II., and Theresa was obliged also to send a\ndelegate to court to plead her case. The opposition dragged on for a\nyear, but in the end Theresa carried her point. It was not worth the\nstorm in a teacup raised.\n\nThis was the beginning. Even in Spain it was felt that a change in\nmonastic life was necessary.\n\nBut reform assumed the direction of recurrence to severe asceticism, a\nphase as out of date as could well be conceived, and which accordingly\nflickered for a while, and then expired.\n\nTheresa was delighted to enlist some earnest friars in the cause, and\nthey reformed the Carmelite monasteries on the same lines as those she\nhad pursued with the convents.\n\nIn her own account of how she founded her various establishments, she\nsays:\u2014\n\n\u201cI lived five years in the convent of S. Joseph at Avila, after I had\nfounded it; and I think that they were the most quiet years of my life.\nI there enjoyed the tranquillity and calmness which my soul has often\nsince longed for.... The number in the house was thirteen, a number\nwhich I was resolved not to exceed. I was much delighted at living among\nsuch pure and holy souls, for all their care was to serve and praise our\nLord. His Divine Majesty sent us everything necessary without our\nasking; and whenever we were in want\u2014and that was seldom\u2014their joy was\nall the greater. I praised the Lord for giving them such heroic virtue,\nand especially for endowing them with indifference to what concerned\ntheir bodies. I, who was their Superior, never remember to have been\ntroubled with any thought in this matter, because I firmly believed that\nour Lord would not be wanting to those who had no other wish than how to\nplease Him. With regard to the virtue of obedience, I could mention many\nthings which I here saw in them. One at present recurs to me. One day a\nfew cucumbers were given to us, and we were eating them at our meal. The\ncucumber that fell to my share was rotten inside. I called one of the\nsisters, and to prove her obedience, bade her plant it in the garden.\nShe asked if she should plant it upright or sideways; I said \u2018sideways,\u2019\nand she immediately did so, without the thought occurring to her that it\nmust decay. Her esteem for obedience was so superior to her natural\nreason, that she acted as if believing that what I ordered was proper.\u201d\n\nIn course of time, the eager, active mind of Theresa formed a new\nscheme. She had now a convent of discalced nuns; she was resolved to\nhave also a monastery of discalced friars. The General of her Order came\nto Avila from Rome; she explained to him the reform she had effected,\nand her desire to extend the reform to monasteries of men. He\nacquiesced, and gave her permission to form such a society if she could.\n\u201cI was now,\u201d says she, \u201cmuch consoled at having his licence, but much\ntroubled at having no friars ready to begin the work, nor any secular\nready to start the house. Here was I, a poor barefooted nun, without the\nsupport of any one but our Lord, furnished with plenty of letters and\ngood wishes, but without the possibility of putting my wishes into\nexecution.\u201d\n\nHowever, she wrote to the General of the Jesuits at Medina, and he and\nthe rest of the fathers of that Society took the matter up very warmly,\nand did not desist till they had obtained from the bishop and\nmagistrates licence for the foundation of such a monastery as S. Theresa\ndesired.\n\n\u201cNow, though I had a licence, I had no house, nor a farthing wherewith\nto buy one; and how could a poor stranger like me procure credit, had\nnot the Lord assisted us? He so ordered that a virtuous lady, for whom\nthere had been no room for admission into S. Joseph\u2019s convent, hearing\nthat another house was about to be started, asked to be admitted into\nit. She had some money, but not enough to buy the house with\u2014only\nsufficient for the hire of one, and to pay our travelling expenses. And\nso we hired one; and without any other assistance we left Avila, two\nnuns from S. Joseph\u2019s and myself, with four from the relaxed convent of\nthe Incarnation, and our chaplain Julian d\u2019Avila.\u201d\n\nThey reached Medina del Campo on the eve of the Assumption, 1567, at\nmidnight, and stole on foot with great secrecy to the hired house. \u201cIt\nwas a great mercy of God that at such an hour we met no one, though then\nwas the time when the bulls were about to be shut up which were to fight\nnext day. I have no recollection of anything, I was in such a scare and\nanxiety. Having come to the house, we entered a court, the walls of\nwhich were much decayed. The good father who had hired the house was\nshort-sighted, and had not noticed how unfit the place was to be made an\nabode for the Blessed Sacrament. When I saw the hall I perceived that\nmuch rubbish would have to be removed, and the walls to be plastered.\nThe night was far advanced, and we had brought only a few hangings\nthere, I think, which was nothing for the whole length of the hall. I\nknew not what was to be done, for I saw that this was not a fit place\nfor an altar to be erected in it. However, our Lord was willing that\nthis should be done immediately, for the steward of the lady had in the\nhouse several pieces of tapestry and a piece of blue damask, and we were\nallowed the use of them. When I saw such good furniture, I praised our\nLord. But we knew not what to do for nails, and that was not the time\nwhen they could be bought. We began to search for some on the walls, and\nat length procured enough. Then some of the men put up the tapestry\nwhilst we swept the floor; and we made such haste, that when it was\ndaylight the altar was ready, a bell was put up, and immediately mass\nwas said. This was sufficient for taking possession, but we did not rest\ntill the Blessed Sacrament was placed in the tabernacle, and through the\nchinks of the door opposite the altar we heard mass, having no other\nplace.\u201d\n\nWhen daylight came S. Theresa was aghast to see how ruinous the house\nwas: the hall, which she had hastily converted into a chapel, was so\nfull of cracks that the Blessed Sacrament was exposed to the sight of\nthose who passed in the streets, and she saw that the repairs of the\ndilapidated mansion would cost money and take time. She was much\ndispirited, for she began to fear that she had undertaken what she had\nnot the power to carry out\u2014her intention being to make this a convent of\nnuns, and then to found, if possible, in the same town, a monastery for\nreformed Carmelite friars.\n\n\u201cIn this trouble I passed a great part of the evening, till the Rector\nof the Society (of Jesus) sent a father to visit me, and he consoled me\ngreatly. I did not tell him all my troubles, but only that which I felt\nat seeing ourselves in the street. I spoke to him of the necessity of\nhaving another house for us, cost what it might, wherein we might dwell\ntill this one was repaired. I recovered courage also at seeing so many\npeople come to us and none of them accuse me of folly, which was a mercy\nof God, for they would have done quite right to take away from us the\nBlessed Sacrament. In spite of all the efforts made to obtain another\nhouse, none could be found to be let in the old town, and this gave me\ngreat anxiety night and day; for though I had appointed men to watch and\nguard the Blessed Sacrament, yet I was fearful lest they should fall\nasleep, and so I got up in the night myself to guard it at a window, and\nby the clear light of the moon I could see it very plainly.\n\n\u201cAbout eight days after, a merchant, seeing our necessity, and living\nhimself in a very good house, told us we might have the upper part of\nit, where we might live as in a private house of our own. He also had a\nlarge hall with a gilt ceiling, and this he gave us for a church.\u201d\n\nOthers came forward and assisted, and the upper story of the merchant\u2019s\nhouse was fitted up for their reception.\n\nShortly after she began to see her way towards obtaining friars for her\nreformed Order. There was in Medina an excellent priest, named Antonio\nde Heredia, who had assisted her greatly. He told her that he desired to\nenter the Carthusian Order. This did not please Theresa; she entreated\nhim to delay a year the execution of his design, and she then confided\nto him her plan. He was pleased with it, and to her great delight\noffered to be the first friar of her reformed society. Shortly after,\nshe met S. John of the Cross, who was also at the time thinking of\njoining the Carthusians. She intercepted him, and persuaded him to\nbecome a discalced Carmelite. \u201cHe promised me he would do so if the\nbusiness did not prove too tedious. When I now saw I had two religious\nto commence the work with, it seemed to me that the matter was\naccomplished, although I was not entirely satisfied with the Prior; and\nthus some delay was caused, as well as by our not having any place for\ncommencing our monastery.\u201d\n\nIn 1568, the Lady de la Cerda, sister of the Duke of Medina Sidonia,\nwrote to S. Theresa, offering to found a house of discalced Carmelite\nnuns in her own town, Malagon. This lady knew Theresa well; it was with\nher when left a widow that the saint had spent six months. Theresa at\nonce went to Malagon with some of her nuns, and took possession of the\nhouse provided for them.\n\nFour or five months after, whilst S. Theresa was talking to a young\ngentleman of quality, he most unexpectedly offered her a house he\npossessed in Valladolid, with a vineyard attached to it. She at once\naccepted the offer. But when she arrived at Valladolid, she found that\nthe place was unhealthy, and altogether unsuitable. Indeed, all the nuns\nfell ill in it, and they were obliged to move to another house given\nthem by the sister of the Bishop of Avila.\n\nShortly after this, a young gentleman of Avila hearing that S. Theresa\nwished to found a monastery of discalced friars, offered her a house he\npossessed in the little village of Durvello. She accepted it, and then\nstarted to see it, with a nun and her chaplain, Father Julian d\u2019Avila.\n\n\u201cThough we set off at daybreak, yet as the place was not much known, no\none could direct us; and thus we walked all that day in great trouble,\nfor the sun was very hot, and when we thought we were near the place, we\nfound that we had still a long way to go. I shall never forget the\nfatigue and wanderings of that day. We arrived at the place just before\nnightfall, and when we went into the house, we found it was in such a\nstate that we could not possibly spend the night in it, partly because\nit was filthy, and partly because there were many people about. It had a\ntolerable hall, two chambers with a garret, and a little kitchen: this\nwas the building we were to use as our friary. I thought that the hall\nmight be turned into a chapel, the garret into a choir for the friars,\nand the two chambers into a dormitory. My companion could not endure the\nthought of making a monastery of the place, and said, \u2018Mother, no soul\ncan possibly endure such a place as this, however great the sanctity.\nSpeak no more about it.\u2019 Father Julian did not oppose me when I\nexpressed my intentions, though he was of the same opinion as my\ncompanion. We spent the night in the church, though, so great was our\nfatigue, we stood more in need of sleep than of vigil. Having arrived at\nMedina, I spoke with Father Antonio, and told him everything. He\nanswered: \u2018I am ready to live not only in such a house as that which you\ndescribe, but even in a pigsty.\u2019 Father John of the Cross was of the\nsame mind.\u201d\n\nThe consent of the bishop and of the provincial of the Order having been\nobtained, the two fathers went off to the wretched house, and took\npossession of it on the first or second Sunday in Advent, in 1568.\n\n\u201cThe following Lent, as I was going to Toledo, I passed that way, and\ncame on Father Antonio sweeping the door of the church, with his usual\ncheerful countenance. \u2018What is this, father?\u2019 said I; \u2018what has become\nof your dignity?\u2019 \u2018The time in which I received honour was time ill\nspent,\u2019 he answered.\n\n\u201cWhen I went into the church along with two merchants, friends of mine,\nwho had come with me from Medina, I was astonished to see how the spirit\nof the Lord reigned there. So many crosses and skulls were there that\nthe merchants could do nothing but weep. Never shall I forget one little\ncross placed over the holy water stoup, on which was fixed a paper\ncrucifix, and which produced more devotion than one elaborately carved.\nThe garret formed the choir. It was high in the middle, so that they\ncould stand up there to say the Hours; but to enter it they were obliged\nto stoop low. They had made two little hermitages on each side of the\nchurch, so low that they could only sit or lie down in them, filled\ninside with hay because it was cold. Their heads almost touched the\nroof. Two little windows commanded the altar, and two stones served them\nas pillows. Here was also a store of crosses and skulls.\n\n\u201cThey went about preaching among the ignorant people of the\nneighbourhood, and soon gained such a reputation that I was greatly\nconsoled. They went to preach six or eight miles off, through snow and\nfrost, barefoot, for they wore no sandals then; afterwards they were\nordered to wear them. When they had done preaching and confessing they\nreturned late to their meal, but with such joy that all their sufferings\nwere not accounted by them. As for food, they had sufficient, for the\npeople of the neighbouring villages provided them with more than they\nwanted.\u201d\n\nWe need not follow the Saint through the course of many years,\ntravelling from place to place, never quiet anywhere, always on the\nmove, with a scheme in her head, which she obstinately determined on\ncarrying out in spite of obstacle and opposition.\n\nWhen the boys were throwing stones at the frogs in a pond, according to\nthe fable, one old toad raised its head above the water and said to the\nurchins, \u201cWhat is fun to you is death to us.\u201d The unfortunate women whom\nS. Theresa immured, the unhappy men whom she persuaded to reduce\nthemselves to poverty and imbecility, might have addressed her in the\nsame words. She, herself, was always engaged on carrying her projects\ninto effect;\u2014absolutely useless though they were, nay, worse than\nuseless, for they were positively mischievous. But those confined in her\nconvents were afforded no work to do, no reading to occupy their minds;\nthey were reduced to a condition of stupidity. The brain is given to man\nand woman to be exercised, the will to be directed; neither to be\neffaced.\n\nWhat was the reform to which Theresa devoted all her energies? To induce\ncertain men and women to kick off their shoes. She aimed at restoring\nthe Carmelite Order to the old severity of its rule at a time when\neverywhere practical, energetic, active men and women were needed to do\ngood work for God and their fellow-men, instead of moping in cells,\nlooking at blank walls, and shivering with cold in compulsory idleness.\nShe deliberately engaged many hundreds of the Lord\u2019s servants in the\nwork of burying their talents.\n\nWe cannot but admire her enthusiasm and her singleness of purpose,\nwhilst we regret that neither were aright directed. The bishops and\nmagistrates had sense to see that her undertakings were foolish and\nunprofitable, but she was able to override their opposition, by her\nstrength of purpose and appeal to higher authorities who thought fit to\nhumour her. She was engaged on making one of her many foundations at\nBurgos in 1582; but was vigorously opposed by the archbishop, who\nrefused to give his licence.\n\nSick and disgusted, she left Burgos at the end of July 1582, with Anne\nof S. Bartholomew and Theresa of Jesus, her niece, and went to Palencia,\nMedina del Campo, and Alba, which latter place she visited at the\nrequest of Maria Henriquez, Duchess of Alba, who was anxious to meet\nwith her. There she died. The account of her death we have from the pen\nof her companion at the time, the Venerable Anne of S. Bartholomew.\n\n\u201cHaving arrived on our way at a little village, she found herself, at\nnight, much exhausted, and she said to me, \u2018My daughter, I feel very\nweak; you would do me a pleasure if you could procure me something to\neat.\u2019 I had only some dry figs with me; I gave four reals to a person\nwherewith to buy eggs at any price, but none were to be procured. Seeing\nher half dead, and being in this distress, I could not contain my tears.\nShe said to me, with angelic patience, \u2018Do not afflict yourself, my\ndaughter; God wills it, and I am content. The fig you have given me\nsuffices.\u2019 On the morrow we arrived at Alba; our holy mother was so ill\nthat the doctors despaired of her recovery. I was dreadfully troubled to\nlose her, and especially at her dying at Alba. I was also grieved to\nthink that I must survive her, for I was very fond of her, and she was\nvery tender towards me; her presence was my great consolation.... I was\nwith her for five days at Alba, in the greatest affliction. Two days\nbefore her death, when I was alone with her in her cell, she said to me,\n\u2018At last, my daughter, the time of my death is come.\u2019 These words\ntouched me to the quick; I did not leave her for a moment, but had\neverything that was needed brought to me.\n\n\u201cFather Antony of Jesus, one of the first Discalced Carmelites, seeing\nhow tired I was, said to me on the morning of her death, \u2018Go and take a\nlittle something or other.\u2019 But when I left the room she seemed uneasy,\nand looked from side to side. The father asked her if she wished me to\nbe recalled. She could not speak, but she made a sign of assent. I\ntherefore returned, and on my re-entering the room, she smiled, and\ncaressed me, drawing me towards her, and placed herself in my arms. I\nheld her thus for fourteen hours, all which time she was in the most\nexalted meditation, and so full of love for her Saviour, that she seemed\nas though she could not die soon enough, so greatly did she sigh for His\npresence. As for me, I felt the most lively pain till I saw the good\nLord at the foot of the bed of the saint, in inexpressible majesty\naccompanied by some saints, ready to conduct her happy soul to heaven.\nThis glorious vision lasted the space of a credo, and entirely resigned\nme to the will of the Lord. I said, from the bottom of my heart, \u2018O my\nGod, even though I should wish to retain her on earth, I would resign\nher at once to Thee!\u2019 I had scarcely said these words when she expired.\u201d\n\nRibera gives the following account of her death:\u2014\u201cAt nine o\u2019clock on the\nsame evening she received, with great reverence and devotion, the\nsacrament of Extreme Unction, joining with the nuns in the penitential\npsalms and litany. Father Antony asked her, a little after, if she\nwished her body, after her death, to be taken to Avila, or to remain at\nAlba. She seemed displeased at the question, and only answered, \u2018Am I to\nhave a will in anything? Will they deny me here a little earth for my\nbody?\u2019 All that night she suffered excessive pain. Next day, at seven in\nthe morning, she turned herself on one side, just in the posture in\nwhich the blessed Magdalen is commonly drawn by painters. Thus she\nremained for fourteen hours, holding a crucifix firmly in her hands, so\nthat the nuns could not remove it till after her death. She continued in\nan ecstasy, with an inflamed countenance, and great composure, like one\nwholly taken up with internal contemplation. When she was now drawing\nnear her end, one of the nuns, viewing her more attentively, thought she\nobserved in her certain signs that the Saviour was talking to her, and\nshowing her wonderful things. Thus she remained till nine in the\nevening, when she surrendered her pure soul into the hands of her\nCreator. She died in the arms of Sister Anne of S. Bartholomew, on\nOctober 4th, 1582; but the next day, on account of the reformation of\nthe calendar, was the fifteenth of that month, the day now appointed for\nthe festival. The saint was sixty-seven years old, forty-seven of which\nshe had passed in religion\u2014twenty-seven in the monastery of the\nIncarnation, and twenty in that of S. Joseph.\u201d\n\nSuch was the end of this remarkable woman, whose life was so full of\nenergy directed to no better purpose than that of a squirrel in a\nrevolving cage.\n\nThat was not her fault; it was due to the age in which she lived and to\nthe paralysing influence of the Inquisition in the land, which allowed\nno independence of thought or of action.\n\nWe have seen the utter helplessness of Spain exhibited in the War with\nthe United States of America. Not a token of ability, not a sign of\nfresh vigour appeared\u2014only feebleness, degeneracy, helplessness. It is\nto this that the Inquisition has reduced Spain. It has destroyed the\nrecuperative, vital energy out of the character of the people.\n\nThe Latin races seem doomed by God to go down, and His hand is\nmanifestly extended to bless and lead on the great Anglo-Saxon race. But\nthis can only be so long as that race fulfils its high mission, as the\ncivilising force in the world, and it maintains the eternal principles\nof Freedom, Justice, and Integrity.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: SISTER DORA.]\n\n\n\n\n                                 XVIII\n\n                             _SISTER DORA._\n\n\nIn S. Hildegarde and S. Theresa we have had instances of two women of\nwonderful energy and talent, yet who achieved nothing of moment, because\ntheir powers were not directed into a channel where they might have been\nof use. S. Hildegarde, indeed, by her letters, threatening, warning,\nreproving, did a certain amount of good\u2014not much; those misdoers who\nreceived her epistles winced and went on in their old courses.\nNevertheless, she was a testimony to a worldly age of the higher life\nset before it in the Gospel than that world cared to follow.\n\nS. Theresa, with a heart on fire with love to God, and inexhaustible\nenergy, spent herself in founding little nunneries, in which the sisters\nwere, as a reform, to wear sandals instead of shoes, and in which their\nnatural gifts were to be reduced to a general level of incapacity, by\ngiving them nothing practical to do, and by forbidding them the\ncultivation of their intellects.\n\nSister Dora, whose life I purpose sketching, strikes me as having been a\ndouble of S. Theresa, in the same persistency, determined will,\nfascination of manner, and cheerfulness. Neither could be happy until\nafforded scope for the exercise of her powers\u2014but how different were the\nends set before each!\n\nA very charming biography of Sister Dora has been written by Miss\nLonsdale, which, whilst admirably portraying her character, has given\nsome umbrage by painting the people among whom she laboured in darker\ncolours than they conceive is justified, and by a little heightening of\nthe dramatic situations. She fell, moreover, into certain inaccuracies\nin matters of detail, and some of her statements have been contradicted\nby persons who were qualified to know particulars. What mistakes were\nmade in that book have in part been corrected in later editions. But I\ncannot find that there was any accusation made of the authoress unduly\nidealising the character of Sister Dora. On the contrary, some think\nthat Miss Lonsdale, in her desire not to appear a panegyrist, has given\nSister Dora a tincture of unworthy qualities that were really absent\nfrom her character.[10]\n\nIn compiling this little notice I have taken pains to obtain information\nfrom those who knew Sister Dora intimately, and have had Miss Lonsdale\u2019s\nbook subjected to revision by such as live in Walsall or knew Walsall\nwhen she was there; and I trust that it is free from inaccuracies and\nexaggerations.\n\nIn addition to Miss Lonsdale\u2019s Memoir two others appeared, one in Miss\nJ. Chappell\u2019s _Four Noble Women and their Work_, and another by Miss\nMorton, which has been characterised in the _Walsall Observer_ as a\n\u201ccaricature.\u201d Neither of these afford any additional matter of value.\n\nIn addition again, but of very different value, is a notice by Mr. S.\nWelsh, Secretary to the Hospital at Walsall, in which she worked, and\nwho was introduced to her the day after she arrived there, and was on\nterms of intimacy with her till her death. His notice is in the _General\nBaptist Magazine_ for 1889. This is the more valuable as being the\ntestimony of one belonging to a different religious communion, and is,\ntherefore, sure to be impartial. Another corrective to mistakes is\ncontained in _Sister Dora: a Review_, published at Walsall in 1880. I\nenter into all these particulars at some length because Miss Lonsdale\u2019s\nbook was qualified by the Rev. Mark Pattison, Sister Dora\u2019s brother, as\n\u201ca romance,\u201d and because some people have considered it to be so,\nmisdoubting the main facts because of the inaccuracies in detail\nfastened on at the time. Mr. Mark Pattison was unqualified spiritually\nfor entering into and appreciating his sister\u2019s character; and of her\nlife in Walsall he personally knew absolutely nothing. A cold and soured\nman, wrapped up in himself, he could not appreciate the overflowing\ncharity and devotion of his sister.\n\nDorothy Wyndlow Pattison was born on the 15th January, 1832. She was the\nyoungest daughter, and the youngest child but one, of the Rev. Mark\nPattison, who was for many years Rector of Hauxwell, near Richmond, in\nYorkshire. She inherited from her father, who was of a Devonshire\nfamily, that finely proportioned and graceful figure which she always\nmaintained; and from her mother, who was the daughter of a banker in\nRichmond, those lovely features which drew forth the admiration of every\none who had the pleasure of knowing her.\n\nHer father was a good and sincere man of the Low Church School. He was\nthoroughly upright and strict. It is not a little painful to see how Mr.\nMark Pattison, his son, late Rector of Lincoln College, Oxford, in his\n_Memoirs_ can hardly mention his father without some acrimonious remark.\nBut in that sour effusion there is little of generous recognition of any\none. Even his sister, the subject of this memoir, comes in for\nill-natured comment.\n\nDora and her sisters, like a thousand other country parsons\u2019 daughters,\nwere of the utmost use in their father\u2019s Yorkshire parish. A French\ngentleman who had lived a while in England and in the country, said to\nme one day: \u201cYour young ladies astound me. They are angels of mercy.\nThey wear no distinguishing habit; one does not see their wings, yet\nthey fly everywhere, and everywhere bring grace and love and peace,\u2014in\nmy country such a thing would be impossible.\u201d\n\nThese Pattison girls were for ever saving their pocket-money to give it\naway, and they made it a rule to mend and remake their old frocks, so as\nnot to have to buy new ones out of their allowance for clothes, so as to\nhave more to give. Even their dinners they would reserve for poor\npeople, and content themselves with bread and cheese.\n\n\u201cGiving to others, instead of spending on themselves, seems to have been\nthe rule and delight of their lives,\u201d says Miss Lonsdale.\n\nA pretty story is told of her at this time. A schoolboy in the village,\nwho was specially attached to her, fell ill of rheumatic fever. The\nboy\u2019s one longing was to see \u201cMiss Dora\u201d again, but she was abroad on\nthe Continent. As he grew worse and worse, he constantly prayed that he\nmight live long enough to see her. On the day on which she was expected,\nhe sat up on his pillows intently listening, and at last, long before\nany one else could hear a sound of wheels, he exclaimed, \u201cThere she is!\u201d\nand sank back. She went to him at once, and nursed him till he died.\n\nHer beauty was very great: large brilliant brown eyes, full red lips, a\nfirm chin, and a finely cut profile. Her hair dark, and slightly\ncurling, waved all over her head; and the remarkable beauty and delicacy\nof her colouring and complexion, added to the liveliness of her\nexpression, made her a fascinating creature to behold. Her father always\ncalled her \u201cLittle Sunshine.\u201d\n\nBut the most remarkable feature about her was to be found in her inner\nbeing. An indomitable will, which no earthly power could subdue, enabled\nher to accomplish an almost superhuman work; yet at times it was to her\na faculty that brought her into difficulties. She was twenty-nine before\nshe was able to find real scope for her energies, and then she took a\nbold step\u2014answered an advertisement from a clergyman at Little Woolston,\nin Buckinghamshire, for a lady to take the village school. Her mother\nhad died in 1861, and she considered herself free from duties that bound\nher to her home. Her father did not relish the step she took, but\nacquiesced. She went to Woolston, and remained there three years, during\nwhich time she won the hearts, not of the children only, but of their\nparents as well. She had to live alone in a cottage, and do everything\nfor herself; but the people never for a moment doubted she was a real\nlady, and always treated her with great respect. Not thinking a little\nvillage school sufficient field for her energies, she resolved to join a\nnursing sisterhood at Redcar, in Yorkshire. It was a foundation made by\na clergyman of private means, the Rev. J. Postlethwaite, and there were\nin it no vows made except one, limited in period, of obedience to the\nSuperior. The life was not quite suited to her with her strong will, but\nit did her good. She learned there how to make beds and to cook. \u201cAt\nfirst she literally sat down and cried when the beds that she had just\nput in order were all pulled to pieces again by some superior authority,\nwho did not approve of the method in which they were made.\u201d But it was a\nuseful lesson for her after-life in a hospital. She was there till the\nearly part of 1865, and then was sent to Walsall to help at a small\ncottage hospital, which had already been established there for more than\na year.[11]\n\nWalsall, though not in the \u201cBlack Country,\u201d is in a busy manufacturing\ndistrict, chiefly of iron. At the time when Sister Dora went there it\ncontained a population of 35,000 inhabitants. It is now connected with\nBirmingham, by almost continuous houses and pits and furnaces, with\nWednesbury as a link.\n\nAs fresh coal and iron pits were being opened in the district round\nWalsall, accidents became more frequent, and it was found impracticable\nto send those injured to Birmingham, which was seven miles distant;\naccordingly, in 1863, the Town Council invited the Redcar Society to\nstart a hospital there. When the Sister who had begun the work fell ill,\nSister Dora was sent in her place, and almost directly caught small-pox\nfrom the out-patients. She was very ill, and even in her delirium showed\nthe bent of her mind by ripping her sheets into strips to serve as\nbandages. She was placed in one small room, with a window looking into\nthe street, of which the blinds were drawn. The most absurd rumours got\nabout that this was the Sisters\u2019 oratory, where they had set up an image\nof the Virgin Mary; and stones and mud were thrown at the panes of\nglass, and the Sisters were shouted after in the streets. The committee\nof the hospital were interrogated, and denied that any religious\nservices were conducted in an oratory. Indeed, no formal oratory would\nhave been allowed; but no doubt the committee were unable to prevent the\npoor Sisters from saying their prayers together in a room if they agreed\nto do so, and in community life common prayer is a requisite.\n\nA boy who had received an injury was taken to the hospital. One night,\nwhen he was recovering, Sister Dora found him crying. She asked him what\nwas the matter. At last it came out: \u201cSister, I shouted after you in the\nstreet, \u2018Sister of _Misery_!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI knew you when you came in,\u201d she said; \u201cI remembered your face.\u201d\n\nThis is the true version of a story Miss Lonsdale gives.\n\nMr. Welsh says: \u201cWhen the cottage hospital\u2014which was the second of its\nkind in England\u2014was opened, the system of voluntary nursing was unknown;\nthe only voluntary nurses heard of then being those who had gone out to\nthe Crimea with Miss Florence Nightingale; consequently the dress of the\nSisters was uncommon, and the name of Sister strange. Therefore, a good\ndeal of misunderstanding was the result; but in course of time people\nbegan to judge the institution by its results. Still, when Sister Dora\ncame to the hospital, there lingered doubts and suspicions that the\nnurses were Romanists in disguise, come to entrap and ruin souls rather\nthan cure bodies. But Sister Dora, by her frank, open manner, disarmed\nsuspicion, while the sublime eloquence of noble deeds silenced\nslanderous tongues, put all opposition to shame, and won for the\nhospital the confidence of the public, and for herself the admiration\nand affection of the people.\u201d\n\nIn 1866 she had a serious illness, brought on by exposure to wet and\ncold. She would come home from dressing wounds in the cottages, wet\nthrough and hot with hurrying along the streets, to find a crowd of\nout-patients awaiting her return at the hospital, and she would attend\nto them in total disregard of herself, and allow her wet clothes to dry\non her.\n\nThis neglect occurred once too often; a chill settled on her, and for\nthree weeks she was dangerously ill. Then it was that the people of\nWalsall began to realise what she was, and the door of the hospital was\nbesieged by poor people come to inquire how their \u201cSister Dora\u201d was.\n\nAt some time previous to her going to Walsall, her faith had been\nsomewhat disturbed by one who ought not to have endeavoured to subvert\nher trust in Christianity. This gave her inexpressible uneasiness and\nunhappiness. There seems to have been always in her a keen sense of\nGod\u2019s presence, and confidence in the efficacy of prayer. She now went\nthrough this terrible inner trial. An unbelieving artisan who was once\nnursed by her, and had observed her critically and suspiciously, said,\nwhen he left, \u201cShe is a noble woman; but she would have been that\nwithout her Christianity.\u201d There he was mistaken. It was precisely her\nfast hold, which she regained, of Christianity that made her what she\nwas.\n\nHappily she had one now of great assistance to her as a guide\u2014a very\nremarkable man, the Rev. Richard Twigg, of St. James\u2019s, Wednesbury.\nEvery Sunday morning, when able, she walked over to St. James\u2019s to Early\nCommunion. She found in Mr. Twigg a man of deep spiritual insight, and\nwith a heart overflowing with the love of God, and consumed with a\ndesire to win souls to Christ. He was a man with the spirit, and some of\nthe power, of an Apostle\u2014a man who left his stamp on Wednesbury, that\nwill not soon be obliterated.\n\nThe struggle through which she had passed, the sense of _need_ in her\nown soul for all that the Christian Church supplies in teaching and in\nSacraments had a great strengthening and confirming effect that never\nleft her; and the love of Jesus Christ became an absorbing personal\ndevotion that nothing could shake. It was this\u2014the love of God\u2014that made\nher what she was, and endure what she did.\n\nSome time after this she became deeply attached to a gentleman who was\nconnected with the hospital, and he was devotedly fond of her, and\nproposed to her. But he was an unbeliever. Again she had to pass through\nan agonising struggle. She felt, as Mr. Twigg pointed out, that to unite\nher destinies with him was to jeopardise her recovered faith, and she\nwas convinced that to be true to her profession, above all true to her\nMaster, she must refuse the offer. She did so, and probably felt in the\nend that peace of mind which must ensue whenever a great sacrifice has\nbeen made for duty.\n\nMiss Lonsdale represented Sister Dora as somewhat domineering over the\nmanaging committee of the hospital. But this is incorrect. A\nNonconformist minister says: \u201cThe noble object (_i.e._ the hospital) had\nmoved men of every shade of politics, and every form of religious\nbelief, to the work, and there have been passages in its history not\npleasant to remember, but not one of these in the remotest degree\ninvolved Sister Dora. On the contrary, her presence and counsel always\nbrought light and peace, and lifted every question into a higher sphere.\n\u2018Ask Sister Dora,\u2019 it used to be said. \u2018Had we not better send for\nSister Dora?\u2019 some member would exclaim out of the fog of contention.\nThereupon she would appear; and many well remember how calmly\nself-possessed, and clear-sighted, she would stand\u2014never sit down.\nIndeed, there were those who worked with her fifteen years who never saw\nher seated; she would stand, usually with her hand on the back of the\nchair which had been placed for her, every eye directed to her; nor was\nit ever many moments before she had grasped the whole question, and\ngiven her opinion just as clearly and simply and straight to the purpose\nas any opinion given to the sufferers in the wards. Nor was she ever\nwrong; nor did she ever fail of her purpose with the committee. No\ncommittee-men ever questioned or differed from Sister Dora, yet in her\nwas the charm of unconsciousness of power or superiority, and the\nimpression left was, of there being no feeling of pleasure in her, other\nthan the triumph of the right.\u201d[12]\n\nIn 1867 the cottage hospital had to be abandoned, as erysipelas broke\nout and would not be expelled. The wards were evidently impregnated with\nmalignant germs, to such an extent that the committee resolved to build\na new hospital in a better situation.\n\n\u201cSister Dora\u2019s work became more engrossing when this larger field was\nopened for it; the men\u2019s beds were constantly full, and even the women\u2019s\nward was hardly ever entirely empty.\u201d\n\nJust at this period an epidemic of small-pox broke out in Walsall, and\nall the energies of Sister Dora were called into play. She visited the\ncottages where the patients lay, and nursed them or saw to their being\nsupplied with what they needed; whilst at the same time carrying on her\nusual work at the hospital.\n\n\u201cOne night she was sent for by a poor man who was dying of what she\ncalled \u2018black-pox,\u2019 a violent form of small-pox. She went at once, and\nfound him in the last extremity. All his relations had fled, and a\nneighbour alone was with him. When Sister Dora found that only one small\npiece of candle was left in the house, she gave the woman some money,\nbegging her to go and buy some means of light whilst she stayed with the\nman. She sat on by his bed, but the woman, who had probably spent the\nmoney at the public-house, never returned; and after some little while\nthe dying man raised himself up in bed with a last effort, saying,\n\u2018Sister, kiss me before I die.\u2019 She took him, all covered as he was with\nthe loathsome disease, into her arms and kissed him, the candle going\nout almost as she did so, leaving them in total darkness. He implored\nher not to leave him while he lived, although he might have known she\nwould never do that.\u201d So she sat through the night, till the early dawn\nbreaking in revealed that the man was dead.\n\nWhen the bell at the head of her bed rang at night she rose at once,\nsaying to herself, \u201cThe Master is come, and calleth for thee!\u201d Indeed,\nshe loved to think that she was ministering to her Blessed Lord in the\nperson of His poor and sick. Miss Lonsdale prints a letter from a former\npatient in the hospital, from which only a short extract can be made: \u201cI\nhad not been there above a week when Sister Dora found me a little bell,\nas there was not one to my bed, and she said, \u2018Enoch, you must ring this\nbell when you want Sister.\u2019 This little bell did not have much rest, for\nwhenever I heard her step or the tinkle of her keys in the hall I used\nto ring my bell, and she would call out, \u2018I\u2019m coming, Enoch,\u2019 which she\ndid, and would say, \u2018What do you want?\u2019 I often used to say, \u2018I don\u2019t\nknow, Sister,\u2019 not really knowing what I did want. She\u2019d say, \u2018Do you\nwant your pillows shaking up, or do you want moving a little?\u2019 which\nshe\u2019d do, whatever it was, and say, \u2018Do you feel quite cosy now?\u2019 \u2018Yes,\nSister.\u2019 Then she would start to go into the other ward, but very often\nbefore she could get through the door I\u2019d call her back and say my\npillow wasn\u2019t quite right, or that my leg wanted moving a little. She\nwould come and do it, whatever it was, and say, \u2018Will that do?\u2019 \u2018Yes,\nSister.\u2019 Then she\u2019d go about her work, but at the very next sound of her\nstep my bell would ring, and as often as my bell rang Sister would come;\nand some of the other patients would often remark that I should wear\nthat little bell out or Sister, and she\u2019d say, \u2018Never mind, for I like\nto hear it, and it\u2019s never too often.\u2019 And it rang so often that I\u2019ve\nheard Sister say that she often dreamt she heard my little bell and\nstarted up in a hurry to find it was a dream.\u201d\n\nSister Dora said once to a friend, who was engaging a servant for the\nhospital, \u201cTell her this is not an ordinary house, or even a hospital. I\nwant her to understand that all who serve here, in whatever capacity,\nought to have one rule, _love for God_, and then, I need not say, love\nfor their work.\u201d\n\nShe spoke often, and with intense earnestness, on the duty, the\nnecessity, of prayer. It was literally true that she never touched a\nwound without raising her heart to God and entreating Him to bless the\nmeans employed. As years glided away, she became able almost to fulfil\nthe Apostle\u2019s command: \u201cPray without ceasing.\u201d And her prayers were\nanimated by the most intense faith\u2014an absolutely unshaken conviction of\ntheir efficacy. It may truly be said that those who pray become\nincreasingly more sure of the value of prayer. They find that, whatever\nmen may say about the reign of law and the order of Nature, earnest\nprayer does bring an answer, often in a marvellous manner. The praying\nman or woman is never shaken in his or her trust in the efficacy of\nprayer. \u201cShe firmly held to the supernatural power, put into the hands\nof men by means of the weapon of prayer; and the practical faithlessness\nin this respect of the world at large was an ever-increasing source of\nsurprise and distress to her.\u201d\n\nSince her death, in commemoration of her labours at Walsall, a very\nbeautiful statue has been there erected to her, and on the pedestal are\nbas-reliefs representing incidents in her life there. One of these\nillustrates a terrible explosion that took place in the Birchett\u2019s Iron\nWorks, on Friday, October 15th, 1875, whereby eleven men were so\nseverely burnt that only two survived. All the others died after their\nadmission into the hospital. It came about thus. The men were at work\nwhen water escaped from the \u201ctwyer\u201d and fell upon the molten iron in the\nfurnace and was at once resolved into steam that blew out the front of\nthe furnace, and also the molten iron, which fell upon the men. Some\nsuffered frightful agonies, but the shock to the nervous system of\nothers had stupefied them. The sight and the smell were terrible. Ladies\nwho volunteered their help could not endure it, and were forced to\nwithdraw, some not getting beyond the door of the ward. But Sister Dora\nwas with the patients incessantly till they died, giving them water,\nbandaging their wounds, or cutting away the sodden clothes that adhered\nto the burnt flesh. Some lingered on for ten days, but in all this time\nshe never deserted the fetid atmosphere of the ward, never went to bed.\n\nShe had so much to do with burns that she became specially skilful in\ntreating them. Children terribly burnt or scalded were constantly\nbrought to the hospital; often men came scalded from a boiler, or by\nmolten metal. She dressed their wounds herself, but, if possible, always\nsent the patients to be tended at home, where she would visit them and\nregularly dress their wounds, rather than have the wards tainted by the\neffluvium from the burns. Her treatment of burnt children merits\nquotation.\n\n\u201cIf a large surface of the body was burnt, or if the child seemed beside\nitself with terror, she did not touch the wounds themselves, but only\ncarefully excluded the air from them by means of cotton wool and\nblankets wrapped round the body. She put hot bottles and flannel to the\nfeet, and, if necessary, ice to the head. Then she gave her attention to\nsoothing and consoling the shocked nerves\u2014a state which she considered\nto be often a more immediate source of danger to the life of the child\nthan the actual injuries. She fed it with milk and brandy, unless it\nviolently refused food, when she would let it alone until it came round,\nsaying that force, or anything which involved even a slight further\nshock to the system, was worse than useless. Sometimes, of course, the\nfatal sleep of exhaustion, from which there was no awakening, would\nfollow; but more often than not food was successfully administered, and\nafter a few hours, Sister Dora, having gained the child\u2019s confidence,\ncould dress the wounds without fear of exciting the frantic terror which\nwould have been the result of touching them at first.\u201d\n\nChildren Sister Dora dearly loved; her heart went out to them with\ninfinite tenderness, and she was even known to sleep with a burnt baby\non each arm. What that means only those know who have had experience of\nthe sickening smell arising from burns.\n\nOnce a little girl of nine was brought into the hospital so badly burnt\nthat it was obvious she had not many hours to live. Sister Dora sat by\nher bed talking to her of Jesus Christ and His love for little children,\nand of the blessed home into which He would receive them. The child died\npeacefully, and her last words were: \u201cSister, when you come to heaven,\nI\u2019ll meet you at the gates with a bunch of flowers.\u201d\n\nOne of the most heroic of her many heroic acts was taking charge of the\nsmall-pox hospital when a second epidemic broke out.\n\nMr. S. Welsh says:\u2014\u201cIn the spring of 1875 there was a second visitation\nof the disease, and fears were entertained that the results would be as\nbad as during the former visitation. One morning Sister Dora came to me\nand said, \u2018Do you know, I have an idea that if some one could be got to\ngo to the epidemic hospital in whom the people have confidence, they\nwould send their friends to be nursed, the patients would be isolated,\nand the disease stamped out?\u2019\u201d This was because a prejudice was\nentertained against the new small-pox hospital, and those who had sick\nconcealed the fact rather than send them to it. \u201cI said,\u201d continues Mr.\nWelsh, \u201c\u2018I have long been of the opinion you have just expressed; but\nwhere are we to get a lady, in whom the people would have confidence, to\nundertake the duty?\u2019 Her prompt reply was, \u2018I will go.\u2019 I confess the\nsudden announcement of her determination rather took me by surprise, for\nI had no expectation of it, and not the most remote idea that she\nintended to go. \u2018But,\u2019 I said, \u2018who will take charge of the hospital if\nyou go there?\u2019 \u2018Oh,\u2019 she replied, \u2018I can get plenty of ladies to come\nthere, but none will go to the epidemic. And,\u2019 she added, by way of\nreconciling me to her view, \u2018it will only be for a short time.\u2019 \u2018But\nwhat if you were to take the disease and die?\u2019 I inquired. \u2018Then,\u2019 she\nadded, in her cheery way, \u2018I shall have died in the path of duty, and,\nyou know, I could not die better.\u2019 I knew it was no use pointing out at\nlength the risk she ran, for where it was a case of saving others,\n_self_ with her was no consideration. I tried to dissuade her on other\ngrounds.... A few days later, I was in company with the doctor of our\nhospital, who was also medical officer of health, and who, as such, had\ncharge of the epidemic hospital, near to which we were at the time. He\nsaid, \u2018Do you know where Sister Dora is?\u2019 \u2018At the hospital, I suppose,\u2019\nwas my reply. \u2018No,\u2019 he rejoined, \u2018she is over there!\u2019\u2014pointing to the\nepidemic hospital.... The people, as soon as they knew Sister Dora was\nin charge, had no misgiving about sending their relatives to be nursed,\nand the result was as she had predicted; the cases were brought in as\nsoon as it was discovered that patients had the disease, and the\nepidemic was speedily stamped out.\u201d\n\nShe had, however, a hard time of it there, as she lacked assistants. Two\nwomen were sent from the workhouse, but they proved of little use. The\nporter, an old soldier, was attentive and kind in his way, but he always\nwent out \u201con a spree\u201d on Saturday nights, and did not return till late\non Sunday evening. When the workhouse women failed her, she was\nsometimes alone with her patients, and these occasionally in the\ndelirium of small-pox.\n\nIt was not till the middle of August, 1875, that the last small-pox\npatient departed from the hospital, and she was able to return to her\noriginal work.\n\nOne of the bas-reliefs on her monument represents Sister Dora consoling\nthe afflicted and the scene depicted refers to a dreadful colliery\naccident that occurred on March 14th, 1872, at Pelsall, a village rather\nover three miles from Walsall, by which twenty-two men were entombed,\nand all perished. For several days hopes were entertained that some of\nthe men would be got out alive; and blankets in which to wrap them, and\nrestoratives, were provided, and Sister Dora was sent for to attend the\nmen when brought to \u201cbank.\u201d The following extract, from an article by a\nspecial correspondent in a newspaper, dated December 10th, 1872, will\ngive some idea of Sister Dora\u2019s connection with the event:\u2014\n\n\u201cOut of doors the scene is weird and awful, and impresses the mind with\na peculiar gloom; for the intensity of the darkness is heightened by the\nshades created by the artificial lights. Every object, the most minute,\nstands out in bold relief against the inky darkness which surrounds the\nlandscape. On the crest of the mound or pit-bank, the policemen, like\nsentinels, are walking their rounds. The wind is howling and whistling\nthrough the trees which form a background to the pit-bank, and the rain\nis coming hissing down in sheets. In a hovel close to the pit-shaft sit\nthe bereaved and disconsolate mourners, hoping against hope, and\nwatching for those who will never return. There, too, are the swarthy\nsons of toil who have just returned from their fruitless search in the\nmine for the dear missing ones, and are resting while their saturated\nclothes are drying. But another form glides softly from that hovel; and\namid the pelting rain, and over the rough pit-bank, and through miry\nclay\u2014now ankle deep\u2014takes her course to the dwellings of the mourners,\nfor some, spent with watching, have been induced to return to their\nhomes. As she plods her way amid pieces of timber, upturned waggons, and\nfragments of broken machinery, which are scattered about in great\nconfusion, a \u2018wee, wee bairn\u2019 creeps gently to her side, and grasping\nher hand, and looking wistfully into her face, which is radiant with\nkindness and affection, says, \u2018Oh, Sister, do see to my father when they\nbring him up the pit.\u2019 Poor child! Never again would he know a father\u2019s\nlove, or share a father\u2019s care. She smiled, and that smile seemed to\nlighten the child\u2019s load of grief, and her promise to see to his father\nappeared to impart consolation to his heavy, despairing heart.\n\n\u201cOn she glides, with a kind word or a sympathetic expression to all. One\nwoman, after listening to her comforting words, burst into tears\u2014the\nfountains of sorrow so long pent up seemed to have found vent. \u2018Let her\nweep,\u2019 said a relative of the unfortunate woman; \u2018it is the first tear\nshe has shed since the accident has occurred, and it will do her good to\ncry.\u2019 But who is the good Samaritan? She is the sister who for seven\nyears has had the management of the nursing department in the cottage\nhospital at Walsall.\u201d\n\nThis is written in too much of the \u201cspecial correspondent\u201d style to be\npleasant; nevertheless it describes what actually took place.\n\nMr. Samuel Welsh says: \u201cI remember one evening I was in the hospital\nwhen a poor man who had been dreadfully crushed in a pit was brought in.\nOne of his legs was so fearfully injured that it was thought it would be\nnecessary to amputate it. After examining the patient, the doctor came\nto me in the committee-room\u2014one door of which opened into the passage\nleading to the wards, and another into the hall in the domestic portion\nof the building. After telling me about the patient who had just been\nbrought in, he said, \u2018Do you know Sister Dora is very ill? So ill,\u2019 he\ncontinued, \u2018that I question if she will pull through this time.\u2019 I\nnaturally inquired what she was suffering from, and in reply the doctor\nsaid, \u2018She will not take care of herself, and is suffering from\nblood-poison.\u2019 He left me, and I was just trying to solve the problem\u2014\u2014\n\u2018What shall be done? or how shall her place be supplied if she be taken\nfrom us by death?\u2019 when I saw a spectral-like figure gliding gently and\nalmost noiselessly through the room from the domestic entrance to the\ndoor leading to the wards. The figure was rather indistinct, for it was\nnearly dark; and as I gazed at the receding form, I said, \u2018Sister, is it\nyou?\u2019 \u2018Whist!\u2019 she said, and glided through the doorway into the wards.\nIn a short time she returned, and I said to her, \u2018Sister, the doctor has\njust been telling me how ill you are\u2014how is it you are here?\u2019 \u2018Ah!\u2019\nreplied she, \u2018it is true I am very ill; but I heard the surgeons talking\nabout amputating that poor fellow\u2019s limb, and I wanted to see whether or\nno there was a possibility of saving it, and I believe there is; and,\nknowing that, I shall rest better.\u2019 So saying, she glided as noiselessly\nout of the room as when she entered.\n\n\u201cOn her recovery\u2014which was retarded by her neglecting herself to attend\nto others\u2014she called me to the hall-door of the hospital, and asked me\nif I thought it was going to rain. I told her I did not think it would\nrain for some hours. She then told me to go and order a cab to be ready\nat the hospital in half an hour. I tried to persuade her not to venture\nout so soon; but it was no use\u2014she went; and many a time I wondered\nwhere she went to.\n\n\u201cAbout six months afterwards I happened to be at a railway station, and\nsaw a pointsman who had been in our hospital with an injured foot, but\nwho, as his friends wished to have him at home, had left before his foot\nwas cured. I inquired how his foot was. He replied that had it not been\nfor Sister Dora he would have lost his foot, if not his life. I said,\n\u2018How did she save your foot when you were not in the hospital, and she\nwas ill at the time you left the hospital?\u2019 \u2018Well,\u2019 he replied, \u2018you\nknow my foot was far from well when I left the hospital; there was no\none at our house who could see to it properly, and it took bad ways, and\none evening I was in awful pain. Oh, how I did wish for Sister Dora to\ncome and dress it! I felt sure she could give me relief, but I had been\ntold she was very ill, so I had no hope that my earnest desire would be\nrealised; but while I was thinking and wishing, the bedroom door was\ngently opened, and a figure just like Sister Dora glided so softly into\nthe room that I could not hear her, but oh! she was so pale that I began\nto think it must be her spirit; but when she folded the bedclothes from\noff my foot, I knew it was she. She dressed my foot, and from that hour\nit began to improve.\u2019\n\n\u201cA few days after this interview with the pointsman I was talking to\nSister Dora and said, \u2018By the bye, Sister, I have found out where you\nwent with the cab that day.\u2019 She replied with a merry twinkle in her\neye, \u2018What a long time you have been finding it out!\u2019\u201d\n\nHer old patients ever remembered her with gratitude. A man called Chell,\nan engine-stoker, was twice in the hospital under her care, first with a\ndislocated ankle, severely cut; the second time, with a leg crushed to\npieces in a railway accident. It was amputated. According to his own\naccount he remembered nothing of the operation, except that Sister Dora\nwas there, and that, \u201cWhen I come to after the chloroform, she was on\nher knees by my side with her arm supporting my head, and she was\nrepeating:\u2014\n\n               \u201c\u2018They climbed the steep ascent of heaven,\n                    Through peril, toil, and pain:\n                 O God, to us may grace be given\n                    To follow in their train.\u2019\n\nAnd all through the pain and trouble that I had afterwards, I never\nforgot Sister\u2019s voice saying those words.\u201d When she was in the small-pox\nhospital, avoided by most, this man never failed to stump away to it to\nsee her and inquire how she was getting on.\n\nThere were, as she herself recognised, faults in the character of Sister\nDora; and yet, without these faults, problematical as it may seem, it is\ndoubtful whether she could have achieved all she did.\n\nOne who knew her long and intimately writes to me: \u201cA majestic\ncharacter, brimming over with sympathy, but, for lack of\nself-discipline, this sympathy was impulsive and gushing. Her character\nwould have been best formed in marrying a man\u2014either statesman,\nphilanthropist or author\u2014whose character would have dominated hers, and\nshe would have shone subdued. Her glorious nature, physical and mental,\nwas marred by undisciplined impulse. Her nature found its congenial\noutlet in devoted works of mercy and love to her fellow-creatures. How\nfar she would have done the same under authority, I fear is a little\ndoubtful.\u201d\n\nI doubt it wholly. \u201cThe wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest\nthe sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it\ngoeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit\u201d (John iii 8). The\ntruth and depth of these words are not sufficiently appreciated. They\nteach that in those governed by the Spirit of God there is an apparent\ncapriciousness and impulsiveness which does not commend itself to\nworldly wisdom or vulgar common-sense. Unquestionably, in community\nlife, this masterfulness in the character of Sister Dora might have been\nsubdued, but\u2014would she have then done the same magnificent work? It\nseems to me\u2014but I may be mistaken\u2014that we should suffer these strong\ncharacters to take their course, and not endeavour to crush them into an\nordinary mould. It is precisely those who soar above the routine-bound\nsouls that, among men, make history\u2014as C\u00e6sar, Napoleon, Bismarck\u2014and let\nme add Lord Kitchener. And in the Church it is the same.\n\nMiss Twigg, who knew her well, writes me: \u201cShe was a lovable woman, so\nbright and winsome. She used to come into our rather dull and sad home\n(our mother died when we were quite children) after evening service. She\nwould nurse one of us, big as we were then, and the others would gather\nround her, while she would tell us stories of her hospital life.... She\nwas a _real_ woman, though with a woman\u2019s failings.\u201d\n\nThere is one point in Sister Dora\u2019s life to which sufficient attention\nhas not been paid by her biographers. It is one which the busy workers\nof the present day think of too little\u2014namely, the writing of bright,\nhelpful letters to any friend who is sick, or in trouble. Somehow or\nother she always found time for that, wrote one who knew her well,[13]\nand who contributes the following, written to a young girl who was at\nthe time in a spinal hospital, and who was almost a stranger to her:\u2014\n\n\n\u201cMY DEAR MISS J.,\u2014I was so glad to hear from you, though I fear it must\nbe a trouble for you to write. I _do_ hope that you will really have\nbenefited by the treatment and rest. I am so glad that the doctor is\ngood to his \u2018children.\u2019 Such little attentions when you are sick help to\nalleviate wonderfully. I wish I could come and take a peep at you. Did\nMrs. N. tell you that she had sent us _\u00a35_ for our seaside expedition?\nWas it not good of her? Oh! we shall have such a jolly time. To see all\nthose poor creatures drink in the sea-breezes! We have had a very busy\nweek of accidents and operations. It has been a regular storm.[14] My\ndear, it is in such times as you are now having that the voice of Jesus\nChrist can be best heard, \u2018Come into a desert place awhile.\u2019 Know you\nsurely that it is God\u2019s visitation. Take home that thought, realise\nit:\u2014God _visiting you_. Elizabeth was astonished that the Mother of her\nLord should visit her. We can have our Emmanuel. I can look back on my\nsicknesses as the best times of my life. Don\u2019t fret about the future. He\ncarrieth our sicknesses and healeth our infirmities. You know infirmity\nmeans weakness after sickness. Think of the cheering lines of our hymn:\n\u2018His touch has still its ancient power.\u2019 When I arose up from my\nsick-bed they told me I should never be able to enter a hospital or do\nwork again. I was fretting over this when a good friend came to me, and\ntold me only to take a day\u2019s burden and not look forward, and it was\nsuch a help. I got up every day feeling sure I should have strength and\ngrace for the day\u2019s trial. May it be said of you, dear, \u2018They took\nknowledge of her that she had been with Jesus.\u2019 May He reveal Himself in\nall His beauty is the prayer of\n\n                         \u201cYour sincere friend,\n                                  \u201cSISTER DORA.\u201d\n\n\nIt does not truly represent Sister Dora to dwell on her outer life, and\nnot look as well into that which is within, as it was the very\nmainspring of all her actions, as it, in fact, made her what she was.\n\nThe same writer to the _Guardian_ gives some sentences from other\nletters:\u2014\n\n\u201cTake your cross day by day, dearie, and with Jesus Christ bearing the\nother end it will not be _too_ heavy.\u201d \u201cIf we would find Jesus, it must\nbe on the mountain, not in the plains or smooth places. \u2018He went up into\na mountain and taught them, saying,\u2019 etc. It is only on a mountain-side\nthat we shall see the Cross. It was only after Zacch\u00e6us had _climbed_\nthe tree he could see Jesus. I have been thinking much of this lately.\nIt is not in the smooth places we shall see Jesus, it is in the rough,\nin the storm, or by the sick-couch.\u201d \u201cA Christian is one whose object is\nChrist.\u201d \u201cI am rejoiced that you are enjoying Faber\u2019s hymns; they always\n_warm_ me up. Oh! my dear, is it not sad that we prefer to live in the\nshade when we might have the glorious sunshine?\u201d\n\nIt was during the winter of 1876-7 that Sister Dora felt the first\napproach of the terrible disease that was to cause her death, and then\nit was rather by diminution of strength than by actual pain. She\nconsulted a doctor in Birmingham, in whom she placed confidence, and he\ntold her the plain truth, that her days in this world were numbered. She\nexacted from him a pledge of secrecy, and then went on with her work as\nhitherto.\n\n\u201cShe was suddenly brought,\u201d says Miss Lonsdale, \u201cas it were, face to\nface with death\u2014distant, perhaps, but inevitable: she, who was full of\nsuch exuberant life and spirits, that the very word \u2018death\u2019 seemed a\ncontradiction when applied to her. Even her doctor, as he looked at her\nblooming appearance, and measured with his eye her finely made form, was\nalmost inclined to believe the evidence of his outward senses against\nhis sober judgment.... She could not endure pity. She, to whom everybody\nhad learnt instinctively to turn for help and consolation, on whom\nothers leant for support, must she now come down to ask of them sympathy\nand comfort? The pride of life was still surging up in her, that pride\nwhich had made her glory in her physical strength for its own sake, as\nwell as for its manifold uses in the service of her Master. True, she\nhad been long living two lives inseparably blended: the outward life,\none of hard, unceasing toil; the inner, a constant communion with the\nunseen world, the existence of which she realised to an extent which not\neven those who saw the most of her could appreciate. To all the poor\nignorant beings whose souls she tried to reach by means of their maimed\nbodies, she was, indeed, the personification of all that they could\nconceive as lovable, holy and merciful in the Saviour. At the same time\nshe judged her own self with strict impartiality. She knew her own\nfaults, her unbending will\u2014her pride and glory in her work seemed to her\neven a fault; and, in place of looking on herself as perfect, she was\nbowed down with a sense of her own shortcomings. At the same time\u2014with\ndeath before her, she hungered for more work for her Master. His words\nwere continually on her lips: \u2018I must work the works of Him that sent Me\nwhile it is day; the night cometh when no man can work.\u2019\u201d\n\nAt last, in the month of August, 1878, typhoid fever having broken out\nin the temporary hospital, it was found necessary to close it, and\nhasten on the work of the construction of another. This gave her an\nopportunity for a holiday and a complete change. She went to the Isle of\nMan, to London, and to Paris.\n\nBut the disorder was making rapid strides, and was causing her intense\nsuffering, and she craved to be back at Walsall. She got as far as\nBirmingham, and was then in such a critical state, that it was feared\nshe would die. But her earnest entreaty was to be taken to Walsall: \u201cLet\nme die,\u201d she pleaded, \u201camong my own people.\u201d\n\nMr. Welsh says:\u2014\u201cOn calling at the Queen\u2019s Hotel, Birmingham [where she\nwas lying ill], I was told the doctor of the hospital (Dr. Maclachlan)\nwas with her, and thinking they were probably arranging matters\nconnected with the hospital, I did not go to her room, but proceeded to\nthe train. I had scarcely got seated when the doctor called me out, and\nwe entered a compartment where we were alone. He asked me when it was\nintended to open the hospital. I replied, \u2018On the 4th November.\u2019 \u2018Then,\u2019\nhe said, \u2018that will just be about the time Sister Dora will die.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe announcement was to me a shock of no ordinary kind, for I had not\nheard of her being ill, and no one could have imagined, from the\ncheerful tone of a letter I had received from her a week or so before,\nthat there was anything the matter with her. Not being able to fully\nrealise the true state of affairs, I asked him if he were jesting. He\nreplied he was not, and that he thought it best to let me know at once,\nso that arrangements might be made for getting some one to take her\nplace when the hospital was opened. I said, \u2018I suppose she is going to\nYorkshire?\u2019 \u2018No,\u2019 he replied, \u2018and that is another thing I wish to speak\nto you about. She wishes to die in Walsall, and she must be removed\nimmediately.\u2019\n\n\u201cOn Sunday [the day following] I saw the chairman and vice-chairman of\nthe hospital. On Sunday evening I returned with Dr. Maclachlan to the\nQueen\u2019s Hotel, where he found his patient very weak. On Monday morning,\na house was taken, and the furniture she had in her rooms at the\nhospital removed to it. Her old servant, who had gone to The Potteries,\nwas telegraphed for, and arrived in a few hours, and by midday the house\nwas ready for her reception. My daughter, knowing Sister Dora\u2019s fondness\nfor flowers, had procured and placed on the table in the parlour a very\nchoice bouquet; and when all was ready, Dr. Maclachlan drove over to\nBirmingham, and brought her to Walsall in his private carriage.\n\n\u201cThe disease was now making steady progress, and it was evident that\nevery day she was becoming weaker; but she never lost her cheerfulness,\nand any one to have seen her might have thought she was only suffering\nfrom some slight ailment, instead of an incurable and painful disease.\u201d\n\n\u201cA few hours before her death,\u201d writes Mr. S. Welsh, \u201cshe called me to\nher bedside and said, \u2018I want you to promise that you will not, when I\nam gone, write anything about me; _quietly I came among you, and quietly\nI wish to go away._\u2019\u201d And this desire of hers would have been faithfully\ncomplied with had not misrepresentations fired the gentleman to whom the\nrequest was made to take up his pen, not in defence of her, but in the\ncorrection of statements that affected certain persons who were alive. I\nmust refer the reader for the detailed account of her last hours to Miss\nLonsdale\u2019s book. One remarkable fact must not be omitted.\n\nAmong the members of the Basilian Order in the Eastern Church, it is the\nrule, as soon as one of the brothers or sisters is dying, that all\nshould leave the room. The last office performed is to screw an ikon or\nrepresentation of the Saviour to the foot of the bed, that the dying may\nin the supreme moment not think of any earthly tie, any earthly comfort,\nbut look only to the Rock of his Salvation. Of this, Sister Dora knew\nnothing. In her last sickness she had a large crucifix hung where she\ncould constantly gaze at it, and when she found her end approaching, she\ninsisted on every one leaving the room,\u2014it was her wish to die alone.\nAnd as she persisted, so was it, only one nurse standing by the door\nheld ajar, and watching till she knew by the change of attitude, and a\ncertain fixed look in the countenance, that Sister Dora had entered into\nher rest.[15]\n\nMr. Welsh says: \u201cIt was Christmas Eve when she passed away, and a dense\nfog, like a funeral pall, hung over the town and obscured every object a\nfew feet from the ground. Under this strange canopy the market was being\nheld, and people were busy buying and selling, and making preparations\nfor the great Christmas Festival on the following day; but when the deep\nboom of the passing bell announced the melancholy intelligence that\nSister Dora had entered into her rest, a thrill of horror ran through\nthe people, who, with blanched cheeks and bated breath, whispered, \u2018Can\nit be true?\u2019 Although for eleven weeks the process of dissolution had\nbeen going on before their eyes, they could not realise the fact that\nshe whom they loved and revered was no more.\u201d\n\nThe funeral took place on Saturday, the 28th of December. \u201cThe day was\ndark and dismal, the streets, covered with slush and sludge caused by\nthe melted snow, were thronged with spectators.... There was general\nmourning in the town; and although it was market day nearly every shop\nwas closed during the time of the funeral, and all the blinds along the\nroute of the procession were drawn.... On reaching the cemetery it was\nfound that four other funerals had arrived from the workhouse; and as\nthese coffins had been taken into the chapel there was no room for\nSister Dora\u2019s, which had consequently to be placed in the porch. This\nwas as Sister Dora would have wished had she had the ordering of the\narrangements; for she always gave preference to the poor, to whom she\nwas attached in life, and from whom she would not have desired to be\nseparated in death.\u201d\n\nTrue to her thought of others, in the midst of her last sufferings she\nhad made arrangements for a Christmas dinner to be given to a number of\nher old patients, in accordance with a custom of hers in previous years;\nbut on this occasion the festive proceedings were shorn of their\ngladness. All thought of her who in her pain and on her deathbed had\nthought of them. Every one tried, but ineffectually, to cheer and\ncomfort the other, but the task was hopeless. One young lady, after the\nmeal, and while the Christmas tree was being lighted, commenced singing\nthat pretty little piece, \u201cFar Away,\u201d\u2014but when she came to the words,\n\n                   \u201cSome are gone from us for ever,\n                    Longer here they could not stay,\u201d\n\nshe burst into tears; and the women present sobbed, and tears were seen\nstealing down the cheeks of bearded men.\n\nThe Walsall writer of _A Review_ concludes his paper thus:\u2014\n\n\u201cShe is no idol to us, but we worship her memory as the most saintly\nthing that was ever given to us. Her name is immortalized, both by her\nown surpassing goodness, and by the love of a whole people for her\u2014a\nlove that will survive through generations, and give a magic and a music\nto those simple words, \u2018Sister Dora,\u2019 long after we shall have passed\naway. There was little we could ever do\u2014there was nothing she would let\nus do\u2014to relieve the self-imposed rigours of her life; but we love her\nin all sincerity, and now in our helplessness we find a serene joy in\nthe knowledge that to her, as surely as to any human soul, will be\nspoken the Divine words: \u2018Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of\nthese My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.\u2019\u201d\n\nIn Sister Dora, surely we have the highest type of the Christian life,\nthe inner and hidden life of the soul, the life that is hid with Christ\nin God, combined with that outer life devoted to the doing of good to\nsuffering and needy humanity. In the cloistered nun we see only the\nfirst, and that tends to become self-centred and morbid; it is redeemed\nfrom this vice by an active life of self-sacrifice.\n\nI cannot do better than, in conclusion, quote from the last letter ever\npenned by Sister Dora:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is 2.30 a.m., and I cannot sleep, so I am going to write to you. I\nwas anything but \u2018forbearing,\u2019 dear; I was overbearing, and I am truly\nsorry for it now. I look back on my life, and see \u2018nothing but leaves.\u2019\nOh, my darling, let me speak to you from my deathbed, and say, Watch in\nall you do that you have a single aim\u2014_God\u2019s_ honour and glory. \u2018I came\nnot to work My own work, but the works of Him that sent Me.\u2019 Look upon\nworking as a privilege. Do not look upon nursing in the way they do so\nmuch now-a-days, as an art or science, but as work done for Christ. As\nyou touch each patient, think it is Christ Himself, and then virtue will\ncome out of the touch to yourself. I have felt that myself, when I have\nhad a particularly loathsome patient. Be full of the Glad Tidings, and\nyou will tell others. You cannot give what you have not got.\u201d\n\n\n                                -------\n\n    _Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._\n\n\n\n\n                               FOOTNOTES\n\n\nFootnote 1:\n\n  Rom. Sott. ii. 125.\n\nFootnote 2:\n\n  \u201cLectures on the Eastern Church,\u201d 1869, p. 218.\n\nFootnote 3:\n\n  Montalembert: _Monks of the West_, Book iv. c. 1.\n\nFootnote 4:\n\n  Adams, \u201cChronicles of Cornish Saints,\u201d in the _Journal of the Royal\n  Institution of Cornwall_, 1873.\n\nFootnote 5:\n\n  _Notes on the History of S. Bega and S. Hild._ (Hartlepool, 1844.) By\n  D. H. Haigh.\n\nFootnote 6:\n\n  _Monks of the West_, 1868, vol. v., pp. 219-21.\n\nFootnote 7:\n\n  Probably Seaxwulf, the Mercian bishop.\n\nFootnote 8:\n\n  Green, _The Making of England_; _ed._ 1897, ii. p. 111.\n\nFootnote 9:\n\n  _Latin Christianity_, 1867, vol. vi., pp. 1 seq.\n\nFootnote 10:\n\n  The Rev. E. M. Fitzgerald, who was Vicar of Walsall at the time when\n  Sister Dora was there, writes: \u201cNo Walsall friend of Sister Dora ever\n  thought that the book exaggerated her virtues or her achievements. We\n  found fault because it did her injustice in attributing to her some\n  mean faults of which she was incapable.\u201d\n\nFootnote 11:\n\n  Miss Lonsdale says that when her father was dangerously ill Sister\n  Dora asked leave to go to him, and was refused and sent down into\n  Devonshire. This has been denied, and I think there has been a\n  misapprehension somewhere. Mr. Welsh says: \u201cThe story about Sister\n  Dora not being allowed to visit her father on his death-bed is very\n  sensational, but\u2014is fiction.\u201d\n\nFootnote 12:\n\n  _Sister Dora: a Review_, p. 14 (Walsall, 1880).\n\nFootnote 13:\n\n  H. M. J., in a letter to the Guardian, May 12th, 1880.\n\nFootnote 14:\n\n  A Yorkshire expression for heavy work.\n\nFootnote 15:\n\n  This has been denied. Her old and devoted servant said: \u201cDo you think\n  I would let my darling die alone?\u201d But it appears to me that Sister\n  Dora\u2019s desire was one to be expected in such a spiritual nature; and\n  in the statement above given it is not said that she was actually left\n  in solitude.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                           TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE\n\n\nFootnotes have been renumbered and moved to the back of the main text.\n\nPunctuation has been normalized. Variations in hyphenation have been\nretained as they were in the original publication. The following changes\nhave been made:\n\n    and made peparations \u2014> preparations {page 123}\n    he could insult, browbreat, \u2014> browbeat {page 247}\n    to to the Bishop of Verdun \u2014> to the Bishop of Verdun {page 285}\n    two religous to commence the work \u2014> religious {page 336}\n    a choir for the frairs \u2014> friars {page 337}\n    distin-tinguishing habit \u2014> distinguishing {page 356}\n    the commitee were unable \u2014> committee {page 360}\n    againt the inky darkness \u2014> against {page 377}\n\nItalicized phrases are presented by surrounding the text with\n_underscores_.\n\nBold phrases are presented by surrounding the text with =equal signs=.","title":"Virgin Saints and Martyrs","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":65815}