OMNIUM SANCTORUM HIBERNIAE

Tag: Irish saints in Europe

  • A Ninth-Century Antiphon and its Composer

    Although he is not actually an Irish saint, I cannot resist marking the feastday of the blessed Notker Balbulus of the Irish abbey of Saint Gall, which falls on April 6. Below is an extract from an 1884 paper on his life and authorship of the beautiful antiphon Media Vita, even though modern scholarship seems to question this.

    Media vita in morte sumus ; quem quaerimus adjutorem, nisi te Domine, qui pro peccatis nostris juste irasceris? Sancte Deus, sancte fortis, sancte et misericors Salvator, amarae morti ne tradas nos.

    In the midst of life we are in death: of whom may we seek for succor, but of thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased? Yet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and most merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death.

    St. Gall, an Irish monk and disciple of St. Columbanus of Bangor, who had declined to follow his apostolic countryman into Italy, founded near Lake Constance, in Switzerland, the celebrated monastery which bore his name. A few humble huts, constructed on the confines of vast forests haunted by bears and wolves, at first sheltered the little community from the inclemency of the seasons, but in time they disappeared, and in their stead arose the walls of that magnificent monastic school, destined to live in history among the great abbeys of the middle ages, with Bobbio and Fulda, with Monte Cassino and Cluni, which conferred such incomparable benefits on literature and civilization..

    Mediaeval history has preserved the fame and grandeur of its early name, around which are gathered associations, traditions, and legends whose diverse and complex interests are full of fascination for the antiquary and of affection and awe for the hagiologist. Before the death of its saintly founder, in the early part of the seventh century, St. Gall had become a centre of Christian life and thought in the Germanic world. No less than five monks named Notker are numbered among its illustrious scholars. Some writers have so confounded one or other of these with the author of Media Vita, who was canonized by Pope Innocent III., that it is important to give a list of the four who also bear the name of Notker, in order to guard against the mistakes which others have made. They are Notker, surnamed Physicus, who was both painter and musician, and for a time physician at the court of Otho I.; another, of whom little is known, is said to have been abbot of St. Gall; a third, Notker Provost, or Notger, who flourished about the year A.D. 1000, was bishop of Liege and author of a Life of St. Remains; a fourth, called Notker Labeo, or Teutonius, who died about A.D. 1002, was the most celebrated of all these, save the author of Media Vita. He excelled in many branches of learning- and enjoyed great repute as painter, poet, astronomer, and mathematician. Possessing the diligence and industry of the cloister, he made many translations of the sacred and profane writers. The manuscript of his translation of the Psalms into High German is still extant, and is regarded by bibliographers as one of the most valuable monuments of the oldest German prose….

    St. Notker, author of the antiphon Media Vita, one of the most interesting characters in the history of the old abbey of St. Gall, whose figure is seen high among the lights which shone above the intellectual horizon towards the sunset of the ninth century. .. The exact date of his birth is uncertain, but the majority of writers whose opinions on mediaeval subjects are worthy of consideration represent him as the senior in age by some months of his friend and patron, Charles le Gros, the last emperor of the Carlovingian dynasty. They agree in dating his birth about the year A.D. 830. His native village was situated in the old province of Thurgovia, in Helvetia, which, at the disruption of the vast empire founded and held intact by the splendid genius of Charlemagne, was divided, and the present canton of Thurgau became a part of the dominion of Louis of Bavaria, So St. Notker was, in the parlance of our day, a German Switzer. His lineage was both ancient and noble. Following the custom of his age and country, St. Notker was trained from youth in a monastic school. Dedicated to the service of God from childhood, the neighboring monastery of St. Gall, but a short distance from his ancestral estate, was his home from the period at which he left the paternal roof until called, at the advanced age of eighty-two, to sleep in everlasting rest with the soft tranquillity of an innocent child. Divers were the out door occupations which filled up the hours of recreation among the monks of St. Gall. Fruit-trees were to be planted or pruned, gardens to be seeded or worked, and nets to be woven or tended when spread for fish or birds. In these various pursuits the monastic disciples assisted their masters, who combined, as in our industrial and agricultural schools, both mental and manual labor. ..Gray-headed monks too old for work, who crept with infirm step about the cloisters of St. Gall, noticed the demure little boy of quiet manners and studious ways, whom they surnamed Balbulus the stammerer from an impediment in his speech. Some, of larger insight into human character than their aged brothers whose faculties were dimmed by weight of years, discovered in the sensitive boy a poetic fervor, supplemented by a humility of spirit almost preternatural in one so young. Under the direction of Ison and Marcellus, his instructors, and in communion with pure souls bound to each other by that most enduring and ennobling of all ties, the profession of a higher theory of life than that which prevailed in the world, St. Notker advanced in the sphere of human knowledge and in the wisdom of the saints. Among his fellow-disciples, who always held him in tender affection, was Salomon, afterwards bishop of Constance. When the period had arrived for the fulfilment of the special purposes of his monastic training he made his religious vows, and from that time forward we find him pursuing with ardor and devotion the every-day duties in the life of a monk of the ninth century. Possessing talents of a high order, which claimed greater scope for development than that afforded in the mere routine of transcribing sacred or profane writers, he spent much of the time usually given to that kind of labor in original composition, and became distinguished as a scholar, poet, and musician.

    But although so richly endowed with mental gifts differing from, or superior to, those of his associates, St. Notker was never neglectful in the performance of his full share of work, both in the garden and in the scriptorium. Like the true monk as well as the true poet, he loved nature and understood the tranquillizing power which lives in her majestic symbols. Her book, wherein he read the mystical meaning in which things earthly prefigure things heavenly, lay open to his mind and heart. After the manner of St. Ephrem, who saw the sign of the cross in the outstretched wings of the tiniest bird, or of St. Dunstan, who heard the melody of the antiphon Gaudete in Caelis when the wind swept the strings of his harp suspended on the wall, St. Notker, moved by the sound of the slow revolutions of a millwheel in midsummer when the water was low, wrote the words and music of his hymn, Sancti Spiritus adsit nobis gratia. When a messenger of his friend and admirer, Charles le Gros affectionately called “our Charles” by the monks arrived at St. Gall on a spiritual mission in behalf of the emperor, he found St. Notker weeding and watering the herbs in the garden. The interview was brief and the lesson taught suggested by the lowly occupation in which he was engaged. “Tell the emperor to do what I am now doing,” was the saint’s reply. Hearing the advice, Charles at once caught its import and said: “Ah! yes, that is the sum of all: destroy the weeds of vice and water the herbs of grace.” On another occasion during a visit of Charles le Gros, who delighted in the companionship of the monks, the evidence of confidence and love shown towards St. Notker excited the envy of the chaplain who attended the emperor, and he determined to revenge himself by jeering at the stammering speech of the saint and by perplexing him with knotty questions. Approaching St. Notker, who was composing sacred melodies on his psaltery, the chaplain of Charles addressed him : “Master! solve for us a point in theology, we pray you. What is God doing now?” The attendants of the jealous and conceited inquirer, knowing the secret purpose of the question, were astonished at the promptness and wisdom of the reply : “God is doing now,” said the saint,” what he has done in all past ages, and what he will continue to do as long as the world lasts: he is setting down the proud and exalting the humble.”

    St. Notker was a central figure among the transcribers and illuminators of manuscripts in the spacious scriptorium of St. Gall, in which quiet reigned because all the busy monks were intent upon their special work… As a collator St. Notker was zealous and accurate, and his services were of incalculable value to the library of St. Gall. Through intercourse with the learned men of his times he became acquainted with the character and contents of other libraries than that of his own community, and by such knowledge he was enabled to procure copies of scarce manuscripts or to borrow them for transcription. From Liutward, Bishop of Vercelli a Ghibelline city of northern Italy, whose episcopal see dates back to the fourth century, and whose cathedral library is rich in ancient manuscripts he received a copy of the Canonical Letters in Greek, which he copied with his own hand.

    It is painful to think that such a man as St. Notker, whose simplicity of character and sweetness of disposition are the themes of panegyric with the historians of the abbey of St. Gall, did not escape the envious promptings which stirred the bosom of Sindolphe, a brother of the same community. Allowing for the natural glow of enthusiasm which would animate the portraiture drawn by a monk of St. Gall three centuries after the close of the earthly career of the saint, other evidence is not wanting in confirmation of the testimony of Eckehard, who says that “no one ever saw him unless either reading, writing, or praying; he wrote many spiritual songs; he was the most humble and meek of men, and most holy.” We sometimes find in the cloister, as in secular life, that men of dissimilar tastes and talents are often attracted to each other by the very dissimilitude which at first sight appears incompatible with the ordinary notions of gravitation in the moral and intellectual world. Associated with St. Notker from the date of his novitiate were Ratpert and Tutilon, two monks wholly unlike the saint in temper and character, yet among them there had grown an affectionate regard for each other which had never been chilled by open strife or secret distrust. Common aims and common dangers shared together seem to have softened those little asperities, frequently united with quick feelings, which are yet not inconsistent with holiness of life. But this union of confidence and affection awakened in Sindolphe a suspicion that it had some other motives than those which appeared on the surface. In his ignorance and jealousy he attempted to poison the mind of the abbot against them, but the latter had sounded the shallowness of Sindolphe’s undisciplined will, and took no heed of his insinuations. Tutilon, learning of these wayward acts, was watchful of his foolish brother, and soon found means to administer a wholesome lesson. St. Notker and the two monks had repaired together on one occasion to the scriptorium for study, and Sindolphe, believing that he might overhear something which would convince the abbot of their unworthiness, secreted himself under the window outside and placed his ear close to listen to their conversation. Tutilon, keen-eyed and alert, observed the action, and, sending the sweet-tempered Notker into the chapel, persuaded Ratpert to take a whip, and, coming up softly to the unsuspecting Sindolphe, to beat him severely; while Tutilon, opening the window, seized him by the head, calling for lights that he might see the face of Satanas, who had come hither with evil intent. Besides his bodily chastisement, which amused even the grave abbot, the unamiable monk had to endure a still further penance in the well-merited raillery of the community of St. Gall. But whatever may have been the peculiar trials to which the conduct of Sindolphe subjected St. Notker, it is pleasant to believe that they were unable to destroy his high serenity or to tarnish his purity of soul, as in later times the advocatus dioboli was unable to present evidence which in any way interfered with his being a saint. In his long career many honors commensurate with his talents and vocation came to him, but in meekness of spirit he turned away from them all, even the episcopal dignity more than once pressed upon him, to pursue the humble path of a simple monk. As an author his fame spread abroad, and he was remarkable for the variety and extent of his erudition.

    On this account certain writings continue to this day to be wrongly attributed to him, notably among these the Gesta Caroli Magni. He compiled a life of St. Gall in verse, and wrote a martyrology “which he chiefly collected,” says Butler, “from Ado and Rabanus Maurus, and which was for a long time made use of in most of the German churches.” His skill in music found expression in many sequences and proses which established his reputation as a master of ecclesiastical chant, and his small treatise on the value of letters in music is still extant in the Scriptores of Gerbert. Ruodbert, Archbishop of Metz, requested him to compose a hymn in honor of St. Stephen to be used at the opening of a church dedicated to the proto-martyr. He complied, and accompanied it with these words: ” Sick and stammering, and full of evil, I Notker, unworthy, have sung the triumph of Stephen with my polluted mouth, at the desire of the prelate. May Ruodbert, who has in a young body the prudent heart of a venerable man, see a long life full of merits!”

    The voice of the thoughtful monk, who had chastened his soul in solitude and turned a deaf ear to human applause, has gone out into all the earth and his words unto the ends of the world. The antiphon Media Vita in morte sumus, which commemorates the insecurity of life and the certainty of death, has preserved the name of the severe ascetic in the literature of the church and among those who have ceased to be partakers of the lot of the saints. It was sung for centuries at St. Gall, and formed part of the solemn supplications every year in Rogation week during a religious procession to an awe-inspiring region situated between two mountains and spanned by a bridge beneath which the roaring torrent dashed over the sullen rocks. Peak to peak reverberated the penitential song of the monks, until its last echoes died away among the lofty summits, of Alpine solitudes. The antiphon soon spread over Europe and thrilled the hearts of pilgrims from the stern regions of the inhospitable north and from the vine-clad shores of the blue Mediterranean. Sung by Crusaders, it stirred the most listless and apathetic on the eve of conflict, and at the close of day it was a prayer for protection through the awful perils of the night. So profoundly had it moved the mediaeval world that it was heard in the ranks of opposing armies going to battle. But by and by the imagination of the ignorant began to invest it with a sort of superstitious charm, which led the Synod of Cologne, in 1316, to inhibit its use except by express permission of a bishop. Two accounts of its origin, slightly differing in detail, have been given by monastic annalists..

    The monks of St. Gall made frequent excursions into the neighboring country, some for recreation, some on missions of mercy, and others for herbs and flowers which clung about rocky projections or grew in mountain recesses perilous of ascent. Their circuit of ordinary travel, hedged in by a snowy palisade of Alps, abounded in scenery of infinite variety and grandeur. The earliest version of the origin of the antiphon is that, during one of these rambles in the wild region of the chasm of Martistoble, St. Notker was drawn thither by the sound of the hammers of workmen engaged in the construction of a bridge across the yawning abyss. The spectacle of the masons suspended over this awful gulf on movable scaffolding, adjusted by means of ropes which swayed to and fro by the very motion of their bodies, presented to the mind of the saint a realistic picture of the uncertainty of life, and suggested the train of pious thought elaborated in his great antiphon.

    The flora of the mountain ranges and the outstretching valleys was pretty well understood by the monastic herbalists, who had traversed the whole region on foot and given to some of the plants and flowers the names which they retain, although in a corrupted form. Between the pages of well-used manuscripts preserved in the libraries of religious houses are still traceable the dim, faint outlines of the rare flowers gathered, perhaps, from rocks and ravines seldom touched by human foot save that of the monk, and in this way the delicate petals and stems were dried for the hortus siccus of the monastery. The monks were physicians of both body and soul. They made many discoveries in the medicinal properties of herbs which entered largely into the practice of the healing art.

    The sampetra, or samphire plant, well known in Great Britain, was highly esteemed for its aromatic and curative qualities. It grows on rocky cliffs and promontories the sight of which almost confuses the vision and makes the brain reel… The second account of the composition of Media Vita relates that the clinging form of an adventurous gatherer of the plant, hugging, as it were between life and death, a precipitous rock which juts over the very edge of the torrent below, his body at one moment wrapt in a violet mist, then apparently within -the full sweep of the foaming spray, so pierced the imagination of St. Notker that not only the words but even the measured movement of the original melody of the antiphon sprang spontaneously from his awe-struck soul.

    Of the career of its composer but little more remains to be told. St. Notker was now an octogenarian and the weariness of years weighed heavily upon him. The animation that had lighted up his face in the flush of manhood was gone, his eyes were hollow, and his flesh was wasted with the long conflict of life. His body, frail and shrunken, was scarcely equal to its functions, and the intellectual fibre, once so strong and vigorous, was worn out. The candle was burnt to the end and its dying light fluttered in the socket. In his own person was fulfilled the prophecy of old:

    ” The days of our age are threescore years and ten; though men be so strong that they come to fourscore years, yet is their strength then but labor and sorrow.” The verdure of spring, so grateful to the languid eyes of the sick man, had now begun to clothe valley and hill with its richness. Winter was relaxing its icy hold, and nature, like a young giant refreshed with sleep, was putting forth the strength and fulness of life. Even the coldness of the snow-crowned Alps seemed to decrease under the lustre and warmth of a vernal sun. The quickening influences of reawakened nature, which touched all visible forms with the glory of resurrection, made no impression on the attenuated frame of the saintly ascetic stretched on his narrow couch. His mission was nearly accomplished, and only the feeble pulsations showed that life was not quite extinct. The morning of the 6th of April, A.D. 912, wore away as usual in the cloisters of St. Gall, and no change was apparent in the face of the dying monk; but when silence and night settled over the sorrow-stricken community the joy of eternal day had dawned on the vision of the saint. So quietly and peacefully came his release from the earthly tenement that none knew the moment when he ceased to breathe. ..

    Catholic World, Volume 38, (1884), 13-28.

  • An Irish Church in Germany

    February 9 is the feast of the Blessed Marianus Scotus, an 11th-century Donegal man who was a monastic and scribe in Germany. I have already reprinted the paper by Bishop William Reeves on the life of this holy man and below is another paper on the Church of Saint Peter at Ratisbon where Blessed Marianus laboured. It was published posthumously in 1876 and the author, Father James Gaffney, tells us of the history of both the saint and his monastery. Like many Irish commentators before and since, the writer is rather indignant that these Irish foundations or Schottenklöster were later given over to monks from Scotland and, although money from Ireland had endowed the great Abbey of Saint James at Ratisbon, compensation was paid to the Scottish bishops when the monastery was suppressed. This confusion arose due to the fact that in the earlier middle ages Ireland was known as Scotia and the Irish as Scotti, hence Marianus Scotus meant ‘Marianus the Irishman’. Later however, Scotland acquired the exclusive use of the name Scotia and retrospectively claimed the saints and the foundations which bore this title abroad, much to the annoyance of the Irish. So we will have to forgive the rather aggrieved note on which the paper ends and enjoy this account of the Irish church at Ratisbon and its most famous son, Muiredhach MacRobartaigh, Marianus Scotus.

    AN IRISH CHURCH IN GERMANY.

    BY THE LATE REV. JAMES GAFFNEY.

    [The readers of the obituary in our February issue are aware that Father Gaffney drew up this paper in the form of a lecture for the Catholic Union. In transcribing, his notes for our pages he would, no doubt, have made many changes and additions. We have not attempted to follow out references or fill up blanks, but have been obliged to content ourselves with only an imperfect fragment of what Father Gaffney intended to be the first of many contributions to the Irish Monthly. R.I.P.]

    THE broad and stately Danube rolls its swift waters by the ancient walls of Ratisbon. This city of northern Bavaria — known in Germany as Regensburg — is famous in modern history as a base of operations for Davoust, one of the bravest marshals of the first Napoleon, in that war in which France swept before her the armies of Austria and Prussia like chaff before the wind.

    Travelling last year with two brother priests in search of relaxation from laborious duties, we stayed a few days at Ratisbon. Among other objects of interest, we visited what is put down in the best guide-books and in the best local histories as the Scottish Church of St. James. We found it to be a very fine building, a basilica of the later Romanesque style of the twelfth century, recently restored at the sole expense of the Bishop of Ratisbon. On examining the very remarkable capitals of the square pillars in the chancel, the circular columns in the nave and the gorgeous western portal, we observed that the interlacing on all these was distinctively Irish. The interlacing of small ribbon-bands, which is well known to antiquarians as “Celtic ornamentation” peculiar to Ireland, was as plainly defined as on the Irish crosses at Monasterboice or the carvings in the chapel of King Cormac on the Rock of Cashel.

    Immediately after our inspection of the church we were introduced to the historian of Ratisbon. In reply to our inquiries he stated that the church was Scottish, not Irish. When we urged the Celtic character of its sculptured decorations, he opposed the fact that on its suppression as a religious foundation at the end of the last century, the Scottish bishops claimed and received compensation from the government .We nevertheless retained our opinion, which was fully confirmed and proved by the authorities we were able to consult upon our return to Ireland. One of the most important of these is the distinguished German antiquarian, Wattenbach, whose dissertation on Irish Monasteries in Germany has been translated by the Rev. Dr. Reeves of Armagh, and published in the seventh volume of the Ulster Journal of Archaeology.

    At the very outset we require an explanation of the name. We must not indeed understand Scotchmen by the “Scoti ;” but the inhabitants of Ireland, who are of the same race. The latter were almost exclusively known by the name of Scots in the earlier centuries of the middle ages; but by degrees, together with the people, this name extended over Scotland likewise.

    This name of “Scotus” occurs at the very beginning of the history of this church and monastery of Ratisbon. Marianus Scotus of Ratisbon is not to be confounded with Marianus Scotus, the Chronicler who was a native also of Ulster and almost a contemporary. Their real names were different, and their labours lay in different fields. Marianus Scotus of Ratisbon, whose original name was Muiredhach MacRobartaigh (now anglicised into McGroarty, McGerty, O’Rafferty, &c.) was born in Tirconnell, the modern county of Donegal. He left Ireland in 1067, that is, eleven years after his namesake the Chronicler. In his youth he had been carefully instructed by his parents in sacred and secular literature, with a view to his entering the priesthood. In process of time he assumed the monastic habit, but seemingly without entering any regular Order; and, taking two companions, called John and Candidus, he set out from home, having as his ultimate object a pilgrimage to Rome. Arriving on their way at Bamberg, they were kindly received, and, after a year’s sojourn, were admitted to the Order of St. Benedict in the Monastery of St. Michaelsberg. But, being unacquainted with the language of the country, they preferred retirement; and a small cell at the foot of the hill was assigned them for their use. After a short stay, they received the permission of their Superior to proceed on their way; and arriving at Ratisbon they met a friendly reception at the convent of the Upper Monastery [Obermünster] where Marianus was employed by the Abbess, Emma, in the transcription of some books. From this he removed to the Lower Monastery [Niedermünster] where a cell was assigned to him and his companions, in which he diligently continued his occupation of writing, his companions preparing the membranes for his use. After some time he was minded to continue his original journey; but a brother Irishman called Muircertach, who was then living as a recluse at the Obermünster, urged him to let the Divine guidance determine whether he should proceed on his way, or settle for life at Ratisbon. He passed the night in Muircertach’s cell, and in the hours of darkness it was intimated to him that, wherever on the next day he should first behold the rising sun, he should remain and fix his abode. Starting before day, he entered St. Peter’s Church, outside the walls, to implore the Divine blessing on his journey. But scarcely had he come forth, when he beheld the sun stealing above the horizon. “Here, then,” said he, ” I shall rest, and here shall be my resurrection.” His determination was hailed with joy by the whole population. The Abbess granted him this Church of St. Peter, commonly known as Weich-Sanct-Peter, with an adjacent plot, where in 1076, a citizen called Bethselinus built for the Irish at his own cost a little monastery, which the Emperor Henry IV. soon after took under his protection, at the solicitation of the Abbess Hazecha. The fame of Marianus, and the news of his prosperity, presently reached Ireland, and numbers of his kindred were induced to come out and enter his Society. The early connections of the monastery were chiefly with Ulster, his own native province, and the six Abbots who succeeded him were all from the north. From Weich-Sanct-Peter, another Irish monastery called St. James’s of Ratisbon, took its rise in 1090. Domnus, a native of the south of Ireland, was its first Abbot.

    Of Marianus himself nothing more is recorded except his great skill and industry as a scribe. “Such,” says the old memoir, was the grace of writing which Divine Providence bestowed on the blessed Marianus, that he wrote many and lengthy volumes with a rapid pen, both in the Upper and Lower Monasteries. For, to speak the truth, without any colouring of language, among all the acts which Divine Providence deigned to perform through him, I deem this most worthy of praise and admiration, that the holy man wrote from beginning to end, with his own hand, the Old and New Testament, with explanatory comments on the same books, and that not once or twice, but over and over again, with a view to the eternal reward; all the while clad in sorry garb, living on slender diet, attended and aided by his brethren, both in the Upper and Lower Monasteries, who prepared the parchments for his use. Besides, he also wrote many smaller books, and manual psalters, for distressed widows, and poor clerics of the same city, towards the health of his soul, without any prospect of earthly gain. Furthermore, through the mercy of God, many congregations of the monastic order, which in faith and charity, and imitation of the blessed Marianus, are derived from the aforesaid Ireland, and inhabit Bavaria and Franconia, are sustained by the writings of the blessed Marianus. He died on the 9th of February, 1088. Aventimus, the Bavarian Annalist, styles him: ”Poeta et Theologus insignis, nullique suo seculo secundus.” Before we part with our distinguished countryman, one of the greatest Irish scribes of the middle ages, let me mention that there is preserved at the present day in the Imperial Library of Vienna, a copy of the Epistles of S. Paul written by Marianus, for his “exiled brethren.” I had the happiness (during the past summer) of examining this precious relic of Celtic zeal and religious patriotism. At the end of the MS. are these words : — “In honore individuae Trinitatis, Marianus Scotus [Muiredach MacRobertaig] scripsit hunc librum suis fratribus pererinis. Anima ejus requiescat in pace. Propter Deum devote dicite. Amen” The Irish letters giving us the real name of the writer prove his race and kindred.

    From the church and monastery of Weich-Sanct-Peter, founded by this Marianus, came the Church of St. James of Ratisbon, built soon after, which became the focus of Irish propagandism whence light and gospel-truth radiated through central Europe during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. From this monastery of St. James went forth colonies of Irish monks to Wurtzburg in honour of St. Kilian, an Irish bishop and martyr, profoundly venerated to the present day in that ancient city. Offshoots also sprung up at Nuremberg, at Memmingen, at Eichstadt, at Erfurt, at Constance, and at the beautiful capital of Austria, Vienna.

    Not only were the skill and devotedness of Irish monks expended on these Irish foundations in Germany, but also the treasures of those who remained at home in Ireland. Stephen White, the well-known Irish Jesuit, had in his possession an old chronicle of the monastery at Ratisbon, from which he made some extracts that are painted by Lynch in his ” Cambrensis Eversus.” In this record it is stated Isaac and Gervase, two Irishmen of noble birth, accompanied by Conrad and William, two other Irishmen, who were sent to Ireland by Dionysius, Abbot of St. Peter’s at Ratisbon, where they were kindly received by Conchobar O’Brien, and having being loaded with rich presents, were sent back to Germany. With the money obtained from Ireland a more commodious site for a monastery was purchased on the western side of Ratisbon, and a building erected which the chronicle describes in glowing terms. “Now, be it known, that neither before nor since were there a monastery equal to this in the beauty of its towers, columns and vaultings, erected and completed in so short a time, because the plenteousness of riches and of money bestowed by the king and princes of Ireland was without bound.”

    A Christian, Abbot of the Irish monastery of St. James at Ratisbon, who was descended from the McCarthys in Ireland, finding that the treasures sent by the king of Ireland to Ratisbon were exhausted, and being unable to obtain help elsewhere, at the request of his brethren undertook a journey to his native country, Ireland, to seek the aid of Donnchadh O’Brien, as Conchobar O’Brien, the founder of the consecrated St. Peter’s was now dead. He was very successful in his mission, and having received great treasures, was preparing to return when he sickened and died, and was buried before St Patrick’s altar at the Cathedral of Cashel.

    What became of those “great treasures ” so liberally bestowed? Did they go to beautify the most beautiful of all our Irish ecclesiastical remains — the buildings on the Rock of Cashel, and that altar of St Patrick’s at the feet of which sleeps the zealous Irish abbot Christian, who had collected them? By no means. They were spent in rebuilding, enlarging, and ornamenting the Church of St. James at Ratisbon, and purchasing land for the support of the Irish monks attached thereto.

    Christian was succeeded as Abbot of St. James by Gregory, who had governed the monastery during his absence in Ireland. Gregory was also an Irishman. The Ratisbon Chronicle says of him: “A man of great virtue, Irish by birth, named Gregory, of the Order of the Regular Canons of St. Augustine, was admitted by Christian into the Order of St. Benedict; upon the death of Christian he became Abbot of St. James’s, and was consecrated by Pope Adrian at Rome.” The new Abbot soon after travelled to Ireland, where he received the money which had been collected by Christian, with considerable sums in addition, wherewith he purchased lands, sumptuously rebuilt the church and added cloisters to it. He died in October, 1204.

    Wattenbach informs us that conflagrations repeatedly consumed all that was destructible by fire; but Gregory’s square tower, and the almost too richly decorated portal of the church, stood out firmly against every assault. The monastery suffered thus especially in 1278, and again in 1453; but it was rebuilt after each fire.

    In the year 1515 it passed out of Irish hands into the possession of Scottish monks. The transfer made by Pope Leo IV. in the year just named was confirmed in 1653 by Innocent X. When the convent was suppressed at the beginning of this century, compensation (as we have already mentioned) was made to the Scotch bishops; and amongst other uses a new facade was built to the Scotch College at Rome out of the money given for the loss of an establishment built by Irish monks, decorated by Irish skill and zeal, out of resources obtained from Ireland and contributed chiefly by the O’Briens and MacCarthys and their generous Irish clansmen.

    Irish Monthly, Vol. 4 (1876), 266-270

  • Saint Brigid of Fiesole, February 1

    M. Stokes, Six Months in the Apennines (1892)

    February 1 is chiefly remembered in Ireland as the feast day of our national patroness Saint Brigid of Kildare. Curiously, it is also the date of commemoration of a ninth-century namesake, Brigid of Fiesole. This holy lady was said to be sister to the Irish saint Andrew who had travelled to Italy with another Irishman, Donatus, later Bishop of Fiesole. There are reasons to believe that rather than being a separate individual, Brigid of Fiesole represents the transference of the cult of the Irish patroness to an Italian setting. This was certainly the view of the author of the classic work Irish Saints in Italy, Fra Anselmo Tommasini. Canon O’Hanlon himself had raised doubts about the coincidence of both of these saints Brigid sharing the same feast in an entry he made on another reputed feast of the Italian Brigid which can be read here. There is also the fact that Saint Donatus was known for his devotion to the Irish patroness and built a church dedicated to her in Piacenza and also authored a Life of Saint Brigid. In the Italian hagiography, however, Brigid is said to be the sister of the deacon Andrew and is miraculously transported from Ireland to Italy to be with him in his final hours. She then stays on in Italy, living a hermit’s life in a cave. It’s a very beautiful story and Canon O’Hanlon narrates it below in this account from Volume II of his Lives of the Irish Saints:

    Saint Brigid, Virgin, Patroness of the Church of Opacum, at Fiesole, Italy.
    [Ninth Century.]

    In a minor degree to the celebrated Abbess of Kildare, yet with great relative honour, another very distinguished St. Brigid, an Irish virgin, who belonged in course of time to Fesule, in Hetruria, is commemorated on this day. Her Acts are given in the Bollandist collection. There is a historic commentary, comprised in three sections, and in thirteen paragraphs. The Italic Life of this holy religious is given, likewise, in seven paragraphs. Our own Colgan has introduced notices of her, extracted from various sources, at the present date. Her life, however, is best drawn from that of her brother, St. Andrew, and which Filippo Villani compiled. We do not learn from it, notwithstanding, in what part of the Island of Hibernia, also called Scotia, either had been born. Nor has their pedigree been transmitted, by our native genealogists, to the foreign biographer. We are only told, their parents were people of great wealth and distinction.

    Towards the beginning of the ninth century, in the reign of Aedh Oirdnidhe, King of Ireland, there lived in that country a noble virgin, called Brigid. This, too, was probably the period of her birth. The splendour of her virtues far outshone that of her illustrious descent. This maiden had a brother, named Andrew, for whom she entertained a most sisterly affection, and ties of blood were more than strengthened by that sympathy, which binds pious souls. She was younger than her brother, and she regarded him as a wise guide and counsellor. Both had early felt a desire to embrace a life of celibacy. Andrew placed himself, as a disciple, under the teaching and protection of a holy bishop, St. Donat, or Donatus, whom he accompanied on a pilgrimage to Rome. Having received the Pope’s blessing, both settled at Fiesole, where Andrew became a deacon. Here he remained for several years. Fiesole was an ancient city, and situated on a mountain, about three miles from Florence. It was once famous for its power and extent; but, now it has nothing of a city, saving the name. Some remains of its Cyclopean walls, and ancient Christian memoirs, attest its remote antiquity, and the ardour with which its people early embraced the Christian religion.

    The mountain slopes there were thickly covered with churches, monasteries, palaces and villas, while a luxuriant country around it has all the aspect of a vast garden. The Fiesole hills are the delight of Florentines, who resort thither to breathe their balmy air. The origin of Fiesole is lost in the darkness of ages. We can say with certainty, that it was among the first of towns, built in Italy, and probably it was one of the twelve Etruscan cities. By order of St. Donatus, who was elected bishop of this city, St. Andrew re-established the Church of St. Martin, near the River Mensola. There he founded a monastery at the base of the Fiesole hills. There, too, he spent the rest of a life, singularly illustrated by piety and renowned for miracles. St. Andrew had made a perfect sacrifice, by abandoning home and the society of his relations and friends. But, a greater privation than all other losses was parting companionship with his beloved sister. She devoted herself wholly to pious exercises in Ireland, living either with her parents, or, more likely, as a member of one among the many religious institutes there existing. Nor does she appear even to have known where or how her brother lived. He survived St. Donatus, however, and after a lapse of some time, age and infirmity growing upon himself, it was deemed well to bestow his earnest admonition on the monks, who stood around his bed in tears. Then, the thought of his dear sister Brigid came into his mind, and he most vehemently wished to see her, ere he should die. The Omnipotent was graciously pleased to regard this feeling, which the dying saint had concealed from the bystanders. The pious Brigid, at the time, had been seated at her frugal meal, consisting of some small fishes and a salad. She lived at a retired place in Ireland. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared to her, and miraculously was she brought before St. Andrew and his brethren. All, who were engaged rendering kind offices to their dying superior, were struck with astonishment and admiration, at the unlooked-for arrival of St. Brigid. A greater number soon appeared to witness her presence. Meantime, the virgin herself trembled with fear and reverence; for, instead of a reality, she thought the sick man lying on the bed, with those men standing around in a strange costume, as also the place and objects near her, represented only a vision. St. Andrew had a clear intuition of the whole matter, and in a tender tone of voice, he thus spoke: “My dearly beloved sister Brigid, finding my end approaching, I conceived a most earnest desire to behold you before my death, and the immense fountain of charity and of mercy from on high hath yielded to my prayers, as you see, and hath indulged the wishes of a sinner. Therefore, fear not, for so it hath pleased God, that you should behold your own brother Andrew, during his last agony, and hoping through your present merits, that the Creator of all things will be propitious, although you had long since thought me removed from this earth. For, in this place, far apart from our natal soil, I, a feeble athlete and soldier, have spent my days, while you, in like manner, shall end your life, supplying the complement of my warfare, by great austerity and penance. Now, set aside all dread, leaning on Divine mercy, and set your mind at rest, being assured, that you see and feel only what is real; while for me, I entreat you to become, with the fear of God, and with fervour of soul, an intercessor before our Lord, as the hour of my dissolution now arrives.” As if awaking from torpor and coming to herself, with great sensibility and devotion, Brigid wept then, tenderly clasping the hand of her brother, she kissed it, and deep sighs almost choked her power of utterance. Sorrow afflicted her for more than an hour, when on bended knees, she thus exclaimed: “O Almighty God, the sole worker of wonders, whom the powers of Heaven serve, whom the elements obey, and to whom every creature is subject, to thee be praise and benediction, honour and glory, who hath deigned this supernatural favour to thy handmaid, that she should behold her holy brother here present.” Then addressing St. Andrew, she said: “Oh, most pious brother, the first faithful director and guardian of my youth, I rejoice with thee, and I am glad and shall be glad, during the short time it may be granted me to behold thee; although, I suffer pain with you, and all the more keenly, because I clearly foresee, when you depart, I shall be alone in this miserable life, and that I shall survive, afflicted, desolate and deprived of your holy conversation. Nevertheless, the deeply impressed traces of thy praiseworthy deeds and pious works, as also the memorials you shall have left, must increase my rejoicing before God, and again bring a festive day. Doubtless, intuitively knowing such matters, you shall happily sleep in Christ. Of this I feel assured, and especially in your case. So long as the usury of life be left to me, I shall not fail in this place, whither angels have brought me, to follow in thy footsteps with penitential exercises, so far as the infirmity of my feeble body will permit, and so far as Divine grace may assist me. Oh, my dearest brother, aid me by thy holy prayers, while you supply to a woman’s weakness, that manly strength, which has supported you. But now, have courage, and be comforted, in Christ and in His holy cross; for, as hitherto you were accustomed to contend with great vigour of mind and indomitable fortitude, give still further proofs of resolution, during this your last agony.” With such consoling words, she cheered the parting soul of her dear brother, and she soon saw his remains reverently consigned to the earth. Then Brigid sought a dense wood, near Fiesole, where she resolved to live a solitary life, and to spend it, in a rigorous course of penance.

    This desert place, called Opacum or Opacus, was at the foot of certain high and steep mountains, where wild beasts alone had their lairs. Here, she subsisted on fruits and roots, which grew about, and thus almost removed from human associations and conversation, engaged in constant vigils, fasts and austerities, old age grew upon her. Yet, would rustics, when hunting, frequently come to her hermitage, which seems to have been a sort of cave. Sometimes, they offered the holy woman products of their chase, which she often refused to accept, as being too great a luxury for her manner of life. As her years wore on, many holy matrons and men visited St. Brigid, while they alleviated her infirmities. This charitable help the Almighty inspired. At length, spent with old age, after miracles and merits had crowned her life, this holy virgin was called to her heavenly nuptials, on the 1st day of February, about the year of Christ, 870. She died —it is incorrectly stated—towards the close of Charlemagne’s reign. Then, after her death, all the country inhabitants, venerating her as a saint, interred her remains; and, on an elevated spot among the mountains, where she had lived, they built a church, which was dedicated to her memory. This was called, Piave St. Martin in Baco, and afterwards her natal day was celebrated there with great solemnity. The desert, which in her time, had been rugged, wild and uncultivated, subsequently assumed an almost miraculous change; for, settlers on the spot soon rendered it attractive and populous. Several writers have celebrated the praises of this holy virgin, while pious pilgrimages were made to her shrine, for ages long past after her death.