ON S. WILLIAM THE ABBOT,
FOUNDER OF THE HERMITS OF MONTE VERGINE
UNDER THE RULE OF HOLY FATHER BENEDICT,
AT GOLETO NEAR NUSCO IN APULIA.
IN THE YEAR 1142.
PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY.
On the writers of the life, the cult of the Saint, and the principal place of the Order.
William the Abbot, Founder of the Hermits of Monte Vergine, in Italy (S.)
THE AUTHOR BEING D. P.
The eremitical institute of Benedictine observance excellently flourished again in the 12th century, in the provinces of the kingdom of Naples and Sicily, through two new Orders, the Pulsanensian and that of Monte Vergine; A monastery being founded about the year 1118, whose Institutors both consecrated this month of June by their death. The Pulsanensian, now extinct, S. John of Matera initiated, whose Life we illustrated on the 20th day; the other, still flourishing, although by wars and various vicissitudes of affairs diminished in several monasteries of both sexes, was begun by the above-titled William, a monastery being founded on the Mountain, called first Virgil's, then the Virgin's; from which afterward he progressed to others and others, Abbots being constituted in his stead in the place he withdrew from; although I do not find him himself in public instruments so called, but now Hermit, now Prelate of Monte Vergine; he himself afterward ruled others also as Prelate: elsewhere finally Custodian and Rector of the said church, even at the time when that mountain had its own proper Abbot Albertus, the Saint's first disciple; so that the name of Prelate, Custodian, Rector, seems here to be of ampler authority, and to mean the same as the present use calls Abbot General: I follow meanwhile the more recent ones, commonly naming him Abbot, and I add that in the present Roman Martyrology he is in the last place, by the authority of Gregory XIII, thus inscribed, as I read; At Goleto near Nusco, of S. William the Confessor, Father of the Hermits of Monte Vergine.
[2] That the title of Blessed and Saint began to be attributed to him from time immemorial, if not even immediately from his death, and a cult in the Order, is proved by the whole proper Office, anciently in use; which, together with the ancient Life, immediately from his death a cult as a Saint, Joannes Jacobus Jordanus, Abbot General of the aforesaid Congregation, published in the year 1643, having read it once and again (as he prefaces): who, when in his former Prefecture he had taken care to restore the temple of Monte Vergine, collapsed with age; in his other Prefecture wished to bring forth the Lives of the Saints, obliterated by age; promising that this would be the earnest of the Chronicles of Monte Vergine, which in the vulgar tongue he was about to commit to the press as soon as possible; in which, concerning the most ancient and illustrious deeds done on the aforesaid mountain, he would most fully make the Reader more certain. concerning whom is book 2 of the Chronicles of the Order. Nor did he long delay: but he sent forth the first volume of them in the sixth year after, divided into two books. The former of these is wholly spent in describing the profane and sacred antiquities of the Mountain itself; the second, devoted to the Life and generalate of S. William, ends with his death and the year 1142: so that if it is not already published, another volume should still be hoped for, which would comprise the remaining Abbots General of the Order, and their acts (as the title promises) chronologically deduced: the defect of this volume meanwhile will somehow supply for us the little work of Felix de Renda, soon to be praised.
[3] The Life, which we give from the first little work, Joannes
wrote, whom Jordanus asserts to have been a native of Nusco, Joannes of Nusco, a disciple, wrote the Life and to have been received into the Order at Goleto by the holy man about the year 1132, together with Jacobus, the successor of the holy man in the monastery of S. Salvator there, and that it was inscribed by Joannes to the same Jacobus: which also is clear from the Prologue, where he says: The religion of your sanctity has deigned to enjoin upon me, venerable Father Jacobus … to transmit in writing the life and death of our blessed Father William, whose place by the Grace of God you hold. Nor can we doubt whether the later Abbot Jacobus, and accordingly the writer Joannes too, can be understood: because at number 37, all those things which he narrates, he professes to have learned from another of his name Joannes of Nusco, one of the first disciples of the Saint on the Virgin's mountain. and from a manuscript Jordanus the General published it, But Jordanus professes that these and the other Lives, which he was about to publish, as the almost barbarous age bore it, he brought forth uncultivated; to be approved only by their antiquity, which in its simplicity has not a little of sweetness, and much of authority; and that he innovated nothing in them, added nothing, except the division, namely into 33 Chapters: to which, from the same Lombard manuscript of the 13th century, preserved at Monte Vergine, he joined three Chapters of as many Miracles, wrought in the years 1185 and 1258. Which division, since it is recent, it is free for me to have no regard of it here, and to divide the whole Life into fewer but longer chapters, eight, to be illustrated by Notes mostly to be taken from Jordanus.
[4] The same Life Felix Renda contracted in his own style, and, together with the likewise contracted Lives of SS. Amatus, Bishop of Nusco, and Donatus the Monk, whom certain more recent ones followed. and also with the Privileges of the Order, published at Naples in the year 1581 — Felix Renda, of Mercogliano, and accordingly born at the foot of Monte Vergine, and Prior in a synonymous monastery at Naples: which edition will be of no small use to us for composing an Appendix concerning the first ten Abbots General. Moreover the diligence of the aforesaid Jordanus has caused that we are not too grieved to lack the History of the aforesaid Mountain published again by Thomas Costo of Naples in the year 1591, The Old Office was in use until the year 1613 in which he rendered Renda almost into Italian. These things being thus noted in passing, I return to the Office which Renda first gave to the press, and Jordanus had reprinted, asserting that it was in use until the year 1613; in which Paul V reformed the Monastic Breviary, and nonetheless inserted into it three full Lessons concerning S. William, which the same Jordanus often alleges. We ourselves have not yet seen the Breviary, but neither do we think anything can be had from it which is not found in the older ones, except the cult confirmed in that manner: which confirmation is indeed of greater authority, but that which the old Office furnishes is of greater antiquity. Yet it, although wholly proper, is not at all worth reprinting here, but it will be enough to excerpt a few things.
[5] At the Magnificat this is the Antiphon: O holy William, thence is given something from both Vespers Confessor of the Lord, intercede for us with the clemency of the divine Majesty, that, the rust of our sins being wiped away, we may glory with thee in the future in the palace of heaven. The Prayer. Almighty everlasting God, the splendor of all the faithful, who didst make thy chosen, the most blessed William, thy Confessor, wonderfully cleave to thee, and by his teaching didst faithfully unite a multitude of people; grant propitiously, that we may deserve to carry out what he strove to do in deed, and what his doctrine divinely conferred. For the second Vespers: O admirable power of divine piety, which among the bands of the blessed Spirits, above the heights of heaven, today raised up its servant William; and propagated the memory of his holy name on earth! Let us love this with all our strength, let us continually extol it with worthy praises. The Prayer. Grant us, we beseech thee, almighty and merciful God, worthily to venerate the memory of thy Confessor William; that we may be able to please thy Majesty, and ever be fortified by his patronage. Likewise at Lauds and all and each of the Hours there are proper Antiphons, with the Sequence at the Mass. Chapters, and Prayers: and also Responsories and Antiphons, at each Nocturn: Chapters too and Hymns, but badly turned to the laws of meter. More pleasing is the Sequence at the Mass, which therefore it pleases to add here, and which alone Jordanus had reprinted in the Chronicle.
[6] In the kingdom of eternal life Let the gentle race of those above Sing in measures of praise. Let our choir duly honor The feast of the holy Cenobite, The noble William. Who, born of the Lombard nation, Now bereaved of his parents, Is so from childhood. Recalled from the malignant ones He spurns the world and its guilt, Thirsting for heavenly things. Bare of foot, covered Only by a single tunic, For Religion's sake He visited the thresholds Of the Saints, and his sins He conquered in the struggle. A smith, by charity, saved By the prayer of the Saint, the guest forged Two circles of iron; Which gird the belly and breast Of the Saint; whose bed Was the ground, because of rivals. His drink was water, his food bread: He taught an unlearned man of Melfi. In a little Castle in the sun Suffering for a wretched blind man He restored his sight. On the Mountain of Virgil A man of great counsel He built a church. A wolf devours the straying Little ass as it grazes, Then completes its work. The Saint commands a bear, Nor does it hasten to the spring, Which it had first destroyed. To him Christ at Laceno With full bodily sight, Whom he prayed to, was manifest. To the praise of the King of all, A house of Brothers and Sisters He established at Goleto. Foreknowing his own death, He admonished the band of Nuns, Teaching sacred things. And made by unspeakable miracles A man of great virtue, He sought the kingdoms of heaven. Therefore let us pray with great Prayers to William The Anchorite, That by his merits there may be For us the straightness of the path Now unto life. O William, dear Father, Pray to God for us With ever-diligent prayer. May he lead the Abbess and the Convent To the kingdom of the mighty, To be saved through the ages. Amen.
[7] The body of the deceased in the year 1142 (on the very day, the 25th of June, on which 18 years before he had caused the church of Monte Vergine to be dedicated, then concurring with the festivity of Pentecost) was buried, in the same Convent where he died, at Goleto near Nusco. The body laid up beneath an altar But the holy body was laid up, as the Life says at number 57, beneath a marble altar, in a little chapel, on the left part of the church, erected a little after his death by Agnes, Abbess of the Nuns: Whence it is understood that he was at first buried in the common cemetery, after the manner of other Religious, even of Abbots: but, miracles growing frequent at the burial, the Bishop of Nusco, Rogerius, was moved, that with certain other neighboring Bishops he should take care to have the body exhumed, and translated to the said altar. A monument of this matter, Jordanus being witness in the last chapter, a few years after his death, still exists on the very front of that old altar, on which is seen sculptured the body of the deceased, extended and with hands joined upon the breast in a Cross; but on the left an Episcopal person, Pontifically clad, with the staff in the left hand, but the right raised in the act of blessing; standing around likewise four Bishops, similarly clad each with his own Pastoral staff, one also holding a thurible for incensing. But those four can be reckoned the Bishop of Frequento, of S. Angelo, borne thither by five Bishops, of Marano, of Avellino, or (if any of them were lacking) the next after them, of Ariano or of Bisaccia. No Archbishop seems to have been present, although under the Archbishop of Salerno, B. Falco, all those were: for this one, even on the stone itself, would have shown himself to be distinguished above the others by the Pallium and the Cross. Above the same altar today is seen erected a statue of the Saint, with a luminous diadem around the head. All these things I sought to have accurately delineated for me, to be engraved on copper; nor do I doubt that they would have been sent equally as the other things sent from Monte Vergine, if a delineator could have been had at Nusco.
[8] in his own chapel between the bodies of SS. Philip and Luke the Apostles. That chapel, to which I said the holy body was brought, Jordanus on page 418 teaches was called a Basilica, on account either of the reverence or the greater capacity of the place; of which chapel I think Renda is to be understood, who on page 16 thus writes: But the body of the most glorious S. William, since it worked so many miracles, is at present venerated with great honor, The arm at Monte Vergine, in a little chapel built for it, in the monastery of S. Salvator of Goleto, in the midst of the holy Bodies of Philip and Luke: concerning whom I should gladly understand how they were brought thither. But from this place, of the bodies of these aforesaid, Relics were translated to Monte Vergine, with great honor; the Shoulder of S. Philip the Apostle, the Arm of S. Luke the Evangelist, the Arm of the most holy William the Founder, laid up in silver vessels. But Jordanus, 56 years after Renda, says: At present the body of S. William is found within the church on an altar far more beautiful, as we shall say below: namely in the other volume which we still await, about to indicate to us the year and manner of the aforesaid last translation.
[9] Whether together with the body at Goleto there is also held the Head, whether the Head is at Antwerp. no one indicates: and Laurentius Beyerlinck seems to make the matter doubtful, in the Theater of human life, under the word Relics, book 15, page 288, among those with which the Professed House of our Society at Antwerp is enriched, putting in the 2nd place the Head of S. William the Confessor, Father of the Hermits of Monte Vergine, who died in the year 1142. Nor is this from any confusion; for separately he names the Head of S. William, Duke of Aquitaine (so it was commonly reported), approved by Clement VIII, Supreme Pontiff, in the year 1611. Yet I frankly confess that I do not know on what foundation this was suggested to him. The latter we have and venerate on the 10th of February, as Henschenius set forth at length at that day: of the former I have never seen or heard anything, much less how it was brought or whence taken away.
[10] A Chronological synopsis of his life. Let the words conclude this preliminary commentary, with which Renda closes the Life of the Saint: This most holy Father of Monks, William, Institutor of the Religion of men and women, was born in the year 1085, and when he was fifteen years old he forsook his own. In the thirty-eighth year of his age he began to found the monastery of Monte Vergine (in which, however, he had already begun to dwell five years earlier) and to institute the Religion of the same. He died in the 57th year of his age, of Christ 1142, as the Author of the Life says.
LIFE
The Author being Joannes of Nusco, the Saint's disciple.
Published from a Manuscript by Jordanus, General of the Order.
William the Abbot, Founder of the Hermits of Monte Vergine, in Italy (S.)
BHL Number: 8924, 8925
BY JOANNES THE DISCIPLE.
PROLOGUE.
[1] Things not to be tolerated by the genius of our littleness, and which are stupendous to the intuition of their magnitude, could easily exceed the eloquence and the acumen of subtlety even of the highest men. The Life of the holy man The religion of your Sanctity has deigned to enjoin upon me, venerable Father Jacobus, namely for the edification of many, to transmit in writing to posterity the life and death of our blessed Father William, whose place by the grace of God you hold; and not, to the honor and glory of the Most High King, to hide in idle silence
those things which, for the merits of his life, both in the time of his warfare and after the reward of his completed labor, bidden to write to the glory of God, the divine mercy has wrought. For by how much he who is wonderful in his Saints shall, by faithful narration, be found to have done greater things for love of him (in our times indeed, in which, according to the Lord's saying, the charity of many lovers of themselves has now grown cold) by so much the more, to the praise of God, the tongues even of brute animals will be more readily loosed. This, therefore, if I, Joannes, relying on excellent genius, if mighty in bright knowledge, were confident that I could fulfill it; even if I could by no means attain to it without great fear of difficulty, yet of my own accord and rejoicing I would without delay approach the care of this office: but now, since, surveying with the sight of reason what is the faculty of our genius, I find it to avail little by its own strength; therefore I greatly dread to impose upon our shoulders a burden of most grievous weight. For I fear in no small degree, lest, if I begin to treat what is most arduous and most difficult, I should not undeservedly become ridiculous to men of more perfect wisdom, though conscious of his own slenderness, while I am not able to consummate what I have begun; and, what is graver, the speech of our rusticity should bring damage to the praises of so holy a Man.
[2] For the rest, not without divine (as I myself conjecture) prompting, the instance of your Sanctity urges in extorting the office enjoined, which hopes nothing difficult to the humility of obedience, and believes nothing impossible to the ardor of charity. What, then, shall I do? Instance compels, ignorance dissuades; authority invites, weakness dreads; willing is at hand, being able flees away. yet he undertakes it, But since I know that you command this out of love of him who, by the power of his virtue commanding the laws of nature, works wonderfully even upon it; not fearing the bites of inconsiderate detractors, trusting in the prayers of your Sanctity, I submit my neck to so great a burden. For it is not so hidden from me that I am accused by very many of the crime of levity, and that I am reproved as rash and importunate by an inconsiderate voice; who, if they be in any way partakers of humanity and reason, will at some time desist from gnawing at the marked opinion of my mind. For since I had to offend in the one or the other, I preferred, I confess, to appear rash, rather than little humble to your requests; for, even if there are here some vestiges of rashness, I hope in the Lord that they can easily be abolished by the merits of obedience and by your supplications. But, lest a longer speech cause tedium, let us turn the style of our discourse (the Lord helping) to our purpose.
CHAPTER I.
He is reared at Vercelli; at fourteen, he goes to Compostela, girt with iron circles.
[3] Nobly born at Vercelli William, then, the venerable Father, of noble lineage, far more illustrious by the nobility of his morals, was a Vercellese by birth. He, from his boyish years revolving in mind only heavenly things, removed far from himself in mind and hand whatever was subject to the vanity of this world, not only as sterile and bringing no fruit; but even despised it with abhorrence. For since from infancy b he had been bereaved of both his parents, and piously reared, he was at once taken into care by his own; who, although on account of the indications of his future probity he was tenderly loved by them, yet never gave his mind to jests and the other boyish delights; but, transcending the boyish age with the greatest gravity of morals, he assiduously revolved in his mind, how, his fatherland and all his own being forsaken, he might more freely fly to the service of God.
[4] Having entered, then, his fourteenth year, meditating these salutary things, he assumed the habit of the sacred c Religion; at the age of 14 he assumes the habit of a Pilgrim, and, satisfying his desire enough, his fatherland being left, content with a single cloak, and even with bare feet, he tirelessly set out on the journey to visit the sacred thresholds of B. James and of the other Saints. For the soul of the blessed youth burned to visit on earth the sacred Relics of those, about to go to Compostela: with whom, for enjoying the glory of perpetual felicity, the divine grace had from eternity predestined him as a companion in the heavenly Kingdoms. When, therefore, following his holy purpose, he made the journey, after the manner of pilgrims, about the twilight of night he turned aside to a certain city to lodge. There was in it a certain ironsmith, a man indeed of great religion and fearing the Lord; to whom, the grace of hospitality being acceptable to God, a long use had now turned into a custom, on single days to give lodging to the poor; kindly received by a hospitable smith, and to invite them, after their refreshment, his washing their feet, to nocturnal rest on spread beds: with whom the servant of God, lodged with the others, as he had resolved from the first day of his pilgrimage, refreshed with bread and water alone, unwilling to receive the rest of his humanity's offices, in the time of quiet after the manner rested on the bare ground. When the host more diligently noted his abstinence and habit, judging him truly a servant of God, he resolved to rise from sleep the following morning earlier than usual, that he might not depart from his lodging before he could confer common discourse with him at will: for, the evening before being past, on account of the silence which as a Monk he observed, he could not elicit a word from him.
[5] and recognized to be of singular virtue, Rising therefore more timely from his bed, he hastily met him now setting out and preparing to go forth; with suppliant voice begging that he would deign him with the discourses of his sanctity. Then the servant of God, as he was affable with serene countenance, lovable to all by the ease of his morals, abounding with the bowels of charity toward God and men, easily gave assent to his petitions. The host, then, having become possessed of his desire, joyfully addressed him with such beginnings: Although weighed down by the mass of sins, polluted by the corruption of vices, neither daring to lift my eyes to heaven, nor to be associated with the companies of the Saints; yet, them being received in our lodging, by the bountiful gift of divine mercy, according to the resources of our means I have long striven to minister; and questioned about his purpose, and they too, taking whatever was set before them with thanksgiving, never spurned the offices of our littleness; but in thee, Brother, I behold a thing unusual and new, who both abhorrest to touch certain of the things set before thee, and despisest my services, as of a sinner and an iniquitous one (which I confess). And he: Far be it, far be it, that in the services of fraternal love there should ever have been any contempt in me, or that I should abhor as filthy the things created by God and assigned to human uses: but since I am not unmindful of my offenses, from more delicious foods and drinks, like most sinners, I abstain. For the rest, that I did not receive the offices of your humanity, neither (I pray) ascribe to arrogance, nor attribute to contempt, but that I behold myself, a wretch and a sinner, unworthy of the office of your sanctity, and that I judge it wicked to spare the proud and perishing flesh. he is asked to remain to build a church on his little estate, After the host now evidently recognized his Religion by the humility of his words, which he had conjectured by other indications; desiring always to be refreshed by his most holy company, he attempted to deflect his mind from his purpose by such words: It is my vow to build a certain church on my little estate, and to enrich it with my own goods: now then (if it please thee) do not, Brother, depart; remain with me, and I will commit it, when built, to the judgment of your providence. To whom the Saint: Although in the administration of ecclesiastical things to serve the Lord is established to be an excellent thing; yet, because from a boy I have desired to visit the thresholds of the Saints; it is not my counsel to change the opinion I have begun (I pray, pardon me).
[6] After, then, the host knew that the Saint could not easily be changed from his purpose; which he refusing, again and again exhorting him with blandishing prayers, he at last with suppliant voice begs that he would deign at least to accept something of his. Then finally, the instance of so great love being seen, the venerable Man, fearing lest, receiving nothing from him, he should utterly sadden him, addressed him with such discourses: Since thou exhortest me so greatly to accept something of the zeal of your benignity; although, of the things which pertain to the care of the body, I have utter need of nothing; yet I will willingly become compliant to your charity; but thou, as thou shalt with cheerful mind bestow what I shall ask, so I beg that thou keep it in silence, and that what thou shalt give, come (I pray) to no one's ears. Make me, then, two iron circles in this manner, that one of them surround the belly, the other the breast, from whose upper one let two iron arms be extended, one from the right side, the other from the left, which through the shoulders, he asks him to make for him two iron circles: reaching to the other part of the lower circle, may be strongly bound on both sides with nails to the aforesaid circles. After the host received his petition, marveling much with himself, that a man, namely, of that age, renouncing himself, should have so great constancy in the love of God, and so great a contempt of all temporal things; with all speed he studiously finished the things asked; and granted them, finished, to him. Which, when he received, remembering that of the Gospel; girt with which he pursues the journey he had begun. He who wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me; he forthwith fitted them to himself with the greatest joy for the mortification of his flesh, and bidding farewell departed from him. These dainties, then, being taken, and content (as I said) with a single garment, with bare feet too traversing the northern colds, he visited the thresholds of the Saints. On which journey d how great perils he endured, it is not in our power to express.
NOTES OF D. P.
CHAPTER II.
The purpose of going to Jerusalem being laid aside, clad in breastplate and helmet, he chooses the Virgilian mountain for solitude to be cultivated.
[7] These things, then, being accomplished, the mind of the venerable Man, not desisting from holy desire, about to go to Jerusalem, incessantly burned to seek Jerusalem; that he might deserve to behold the most holy places, in which the reparation of the human race was made. But, because that which is done with ardent mind is impatient of all delay, if there be at hand free faculty of accomplishing it; for the salvation of many he went into Apulia a for the sake of the aforesaid thing, to Melfi; b where, having dwelt a while in the house of a certain c Rogerius, before ignorant of letter-knowledge, he learned from a man the one-hundred-ninth Psalm, d no more; he stops at Melfi; and, taught the 109th Psalm, which being taught (wonderful
providence of God! wonderful clemency!) afterward, the Lord granting, so great was his skill in sacred Scripture; that it could easily be perceived that the Spirit of the Lord, to whom he had cleaved with his whole heart, spoke through his mouth; for it is written: He who cleaves to the Lord is one spirit. For what mysteries of the Scriptures were unknown to him? he acquires the understanding of the Scriptures. what hidden profundity of meanings? All things certainly, he who created them, according to the ineffable grace of his disposition, had more manifestly revealed to him.
[8] Having set out thence to a certain town, coming to Montesolicolo, e he stayed about two f years with a certain Soldier, Peter by name. But to no one ought it seem credible, He withdraws to Montesolicolo: that the holy Man, coming into Apulia, about to cross over with so great desire, as though forgetful of his purpose, had cooled from the love of the holy journey; for the same desire burned in his mind, and in that meditation the fire of love burned: but he, by whom the steps of man are directed, and whom God had destined for the salvation of many, recalled him from the journey begun, that by the example of his sanctity many might be kindled to the love of eternal life. The food of the venerable Man at that time was bread and water, for recreation rather than for satiety. But if ever he wished to take more delicious dishes; where, living in the greatest abstinence, they were legumes without oil, with vinegar; which also for the attenuation of his flesh he was wont frequently to drink.
[9] At that same time there was a certain man in the aforesaid place, who had lost the light of his eyes. a blind man being led to him by his daughter Him, while by chance his daughter was leading him returning from the field, beholding from afar; she then took care to announce to him forthwith, that she saw William the Confessor praying on a rock with fixed knees; for it was customary to the holy Man, when the greatest heat of the sun pressed on, to go out to a certain rock, and there with all his strength to implore the true sun of justice. Who forthwith (the hope of his health being conceived) begs his daughter to lead him to the venerable man of God. When, then, the man had been led to William, falling down at his knees, alleging the want of family substance, the care of nourishing his offspring, he began miserably to pray, that, having mercy on him, he would restore to him the light of his eyes. When the man of the Lord heard this, recalling that it was not of his virtue, condoling with his misfortune, he began forthwith to admonish, that in tribulations he should not cease from the service of God: he restores his sight. For he is mighty, said he, who strikes, also to heal. While the holy man, admonishing him, spoke these and like things; the aforesaid man yielded to sleep; who at length, awaking from sleep (a blessing being received from the Saint), forthwith received the light, which he had lost, brighter than he had ever had.
[10] This miracle being heard, the fame of his sanctity began to grow bright, and the continence of his life to be proclaimed. Departing thence When the chief guardian of humility heard this, much saddened, and at the same time fearing lest he should be moved by popular airs; he resolved somehow to withdraw thence, and to betake himself to Jerusalem. Nor was there delay: setting out on the journey which he had resolved in mind, he began to fulfill it in work. There was at that time a man of great merit and great name, devoted to God, named Joannes, g Father of a certain monastery, which he himself had built near Genusium. he comes to Genusium, and treats with the Abbot of the place: Of this holy man's fame, then, when, making the journey for the sake of the aforesaid thing, he had heard; he judged it worth the trouble to turn aside from the journey begun, for the sake of conferring with the aforesaid Man of God. When, then, amid mutual rushing embraces they meet, and in turn opportunity of speaking is given; there was no other discourse between them, except concerning the contempt of worldly things, and the acquisition of heavenly ones, and how God alone is to be served.
[11] Setting out the next day, he asked leave of the aforesaid man, insinuating and, that man dissuading, pursuing the journey to Jerusalem, that for the sake of devotion he wished to go to Jerusalem, and could no longer defer his desire. And he; Do not, Brother, be wearied in vain; do not begin what thou wilt not be able to accomplish, not about to profit; for greater is the usefulness of thy delay for the salvation of the faithful, than to become a partaker of thy purpose according to thy will. To whose admonitions, unwilling to give assent, by the ardor of the holy journey he soon set out. Who, when he had come near Oria, h being detained by robbers, was afflicted with cruel beatings: he falls among robbers, (for not yet, taking up by hereditary right the Kingdoms of his cousins, did that terror of all the wicked, lover of equity, exterminator of all evils, best patron of tranquility and peace, namely Rogerius, the most magnificent King, happily triumphing, free Apulia from the rapacious and from the jaws of robbers); in this, however, he knew by certain indications (according to the saying of the servant of God) that what he bore in his heart, he could not complete in work. But, necessity compelling, he returned with all speed to the aforesaid Father; by whom, while on single days with fraternal love he was greatly asked to dwell with him; the Lord appeared to him in a vision, foretelling that he himself, by himself, was to make a Congregation of the faithful, then he learns that a Congregation is to be founded by him elsewhere. and accordingly that he ought to withdraw thence, about to serve the Lord elsewhere. Fifteen days, then, having passed, k he renounced the will of the aforesaid Man, diligently pursuing the things which had been enjoined upon him by God.
[12] Setting out thence, then, leave being received, he began to make his journey through the mountains, At Tripaldo, for the iron circles more diligently exploring the several places fit for the solitary life. Which, when he found them less according to the opinion of his mind, he came to Tripaldo, l which is not far distant from the Virgilian mountain. In this village, having dwelt a little in the house of a certain matron, diligently inquiring of its inhabitants, he learned that the aforesaid mountain was fit and opportune for leading the solitary life. Meanwhile, since the circles, which he had put on for the maceration of his flesh, were more frequently broken; and it behooved him to show them to smiths, and to ask of them that the like be made; he puts on a breastplate, fearing the applause of men, the man of more prudent counsel sets out for Salerno; hoping there to find someone, from whom he might receive an iron breastplate, never to be laid aside. Nor did the opinion deceive him; for after m he had entered Salerno, a certain Soldier, meeting him, his will being known, showed all the breastplates he had, and an iron little cap, thenceforth to be worn secretly. and submitted to his judgment, that he should take the better one which he wished. Clad indeed in a garment of greater weight, having become possessed of his vow, he returns thankful to the aforesaid village: in which also, that helmeted too he might be able to proceed to war, he ordered an iron covering to be made to the measure of his head, which is commonly called a Cophia: which after the soldier of the Lord took upon his head, he removed it no further; and so he carried it secretly, that in the time of his life it was never known to anyone.
[13] Thence he began to take counsel with the aforesaid matron, how on the aforesaid mountain he might be able to find water. And she; Lord, there is on the ridge of the same mountain (as fame, the foreteller of truth, reports) a certain Hermit; o he, if there is any water on this mountain, About to dwell on the Virgilian mountain will most certainly teach it. A certain companion, then, named Peter, being taken, he ascends the mountain; he finds the Hermit: who, the Father's will being known, said to him that he could find water, if he should seek on the brow of the mountain. p Soon, departing from him, with his companion more diligently searching all things, at length he beholds mud without water, not a little trodden by the footprints of bears; approaching which, using their hands for a rake, he seeks water, they dig out the mud; at length from the same place, from which they cast out the mud, they see some water emerge. Meanwhile the day growing toward evening, advancing a little, they find a place fit for nocturnal q rest. Here, not a little solicitous for the want of water, since the aforesaid water seemed to him little or none; he disposed to seek if anywhere God would show him more abundant water on that mountain. When, then, the following day shone forth, by no means sparing his accustomed labor, he avidly carries out the resolutions of his nocturnal purpose. Meanwhile hunters meet him; who, consulted about water, out of zeal for humanity lead him to a more abundant spring. r These departing, the aforesaid servant of God, with his companion persisting in sight of that spring, was seen by the guards of a certain castle, named Mercuriano; s and he finds it; who, judging them to be robbers, immediately rush forth, seize them, and contumeliously cast them down, and lead him as far as the Bailiff of that castle; who, when, his sacred discourses being heard, he knew of what sanctity he was; forthwith dismissed him in peace.
[14] When, then, he had returned to the oft-said village, namely Tripaldo; suffering no delay, certain kinsmen and neighbors of that woman with whom he lodged being taken; he ascended to the place in which he first found water; where, a certain little house being built for him by the same, the venerable servant of God, William, remained there alone with the Lord. and he drives away a bear disturbing it, On a certain day, when he went out of his cell for the sake of drawing water, he found little water in the aforesaid spring; for a bear, coming, had trodden the spring, and filled it with mud. What more? He restored the spring, and returned home: but the bear, nonetheless coming on single days, swallowed the water, trod the spring. When he endured this long, on a certain day again going out to draw water, he found the beast drinking, and addresses it with these words: What is this that thou doest? thou injuriously fallest upon another's labor (as I see): the water, which with my own hands I dig out, thou disturbest and swallowest? Go hence, and beware henceforth lest thou approach. At whose command, soon, its head depressed to the earth; the bear, showing absolutely nothing of ferocity, forthwith withdrew, and to the spring returned no more.
[15] His food was (at that time indeed) only beans and chestnuts, which with his own hands he gathered; and Albertus a disciple being received, and barley bread, and that baked under ashes. Meanwhile, a year's space being measured out, a certain Monk, Albertus t by name, the fame of his sanctity being learned, coming to him, suppliantly prays that he would permit him to dwell with him; after he knew his constancy, not contradicting his will, he received him into his holy company. He, among many things which he was wont faithfully to narrate of him, recounted a certain difficult and to many almost incredible thing. For he testified that in the nocturnal hours, he leads an austere life there. as soon as the man of God could know himself to have fallen asleep, forthwith rising from his bed (this bare rock can be called by that name), before the Cross, which he had fixed for himself in his little cell, leaning on one foot, v he devoted himself to sacred prayers until morning. But this little cell, in which he performed his sacred prayers, is not much distant from the spring x which he had dug for himself with his hands; and both persist even to these our times, and retain the name from the blessed Man; for it is called the spring and the house of the Penance y of holy William.
NOTES OF D. P.
p Jordanus adds that to those approaching thither certain white doves were seen to raise themselves from a plain near the summit, and after some gyres in the air to fall back to the same place and disappear. Thus I believe he had it from tradition, because he cites no author; and that this was a presage of a convent of white-clad Monks being founded there.
q A cave so produced by nature in the rock, says Renda.
r The same has the Spring of Lidia, not far from that of Fidia. But this, the map under number 18 places almost at the foot of the mountain, where it looks toward Nola. There they say are found the vestiges of a temple once sacred to the God Fidius.
s Mercurianum, a little town, at the foot and southern side of the mountain, subject to the monastery itself, commonly Mercogliano, number 12.
t This man afterward succeeded William in the governance of the Order, and in various ancient writings is entitled Blessed. The day of his death and his other acts Jordanus will teach in the other part of his Chronicle, which we have not yet seen. But it is wonderful enough, that the first and only disciple of another S. William is also called Albertus; and unless Theobaldus, an author of whatever sort, and confusing many things, alleged the part of the Life written by him, I should suspect that Albertus too was taken from this our one. But the year was 1116, when Albertus came to William.
v Of B. Roland or Orlando de' Medici (whose wonderful life we shall give on the 15th of September) it is read, that for the space of 26 years he was seen by several persons worthy of credit, by day and by night, upon one foot, for the space of five or six hours, with eyes fixed below the wheel of the sun and moon, with arms raised, most devoutly gazing upon God.
x That this spring was named "from the Dove" while the Saint lived, from the above-said apparition of doves, Jordanus notes from various Instruments, where the monastery is said to have been built on the mountain which is called the Virgin's, in the place where the Dove's Water is said to be. He adds that the same spring was very scanty and often wont to dry up; and once, when it had been found to have dried up, a prayer being made by the Saint, it gushed copiously, and thereafter never failed: and that the same is held most efficacious for healing those afflicted by cold, rather by devotion toward the Saint than by natural virtue, since it itself is most cold: but it is now enclosed in the monastery, girt about with living rock.
y More than 300 years it is, Jordanus says, that the said little cell, hitherto piously preserved, had to be destroyed, for extending the buildings of the monastery: which themselves yet still retain the old name of Penance, and by name a great chamber capable of 20 persons, next to the spring.
CHAPTER III.
Presbyters being gathered on the Virgilian Mountain, he founds a church, not without miracles.
[16] But a two years' circuit being accomplished, After two years, Presbyters being received into his company his name now became known through all the parts of that region; and his celebrated fame growing bright everywhere, men and women with the utmost alacrity of heart ran to him; among whom, certain Priests assembling, while they desired to be instructed in his sacred disciplines, under his mastery they consigned themselves b to the service of God. To whom inquiring what norm of Religion he would prescribe them to observe; he said, he prescribes for them a norm of life: It is the counsel, Brothers, that, laboring with our own hands, we acquire food and clothing for ourselves, and what we may distribute to the poor; and, assembling at fixed hours, we celebrate the divine Offices. Whose salutary counsel c the Presbyters kept for a short time; for, struck by the malice of the ancient enemy, complaining first secretly among themselves, at length they began to cry out with public voice, that they were Priests, deputed to the divine Offices; and therefore that it did not befit them to labor, nor to be exercised in the cultivation of the soil like peasants; but rather that it was fitting that a church be built on that Mountain, books and priestly vestments be bought, and so they attend only to the divine Offices. Fearing to oppose their will, lest by their seditions (his accustomed tranquility of mind being lost) they should turn the keenness of their mind from the light of contemplation; about to satisfy their desire, content with a single companion, mounting a little ass, he set out for Bari; where, among friends and acquaintances finding all things according to the vow of the Priests, while, the business being accomplished, he returned to Gravina, d there his companion began to fall ill.
[17] Seven days, then, being passed, after he knew that he could not easily recover from the infirmity; and, returned to them he began to ask him, that he himself, mounting the little ass, would return with him to their proper place. But he, knowing that it was grievous enough to the man of God to go on foot, both because by prayers, fastings, and vigils he was weak, and because he was clad in the iron breastplate; prayed that, himself rather being dismissed, he would return to the Brothers. What need of words? Overcome by the command of his authority, he mounted the ass, and the Venerable Father, following him with bare feet (wonderful patience! wonderful humility!), did not cease to minister to him as far as the destined place. The books, then, and priestly vestments being received, he builds a church on the mountain. the Priests began forthwith to ask that he would build them a church on the mountain. Hearing which, now not inconsiderately, as before, of the aforesaid things he promised that he would satisfy the desire of the Brothers; but first, having withdrawn to a certain secret e place, his knees bent, he humbly began to pray the fountain of all piety, that if it pleased him that a church be built for him in that place, he would deign to send thither so great a frequency of people, that on the same day he might begin to build a lime-kiln. Scarcely was the prayer completed, when so great a multitude of people came up, that at his command both they began to work the lime-kiln, and to cut wood; and so great instance served, that on the next day, the fire being applied beneath, the stones were dissolved into cement. Nor was there delay, by the aid of the neighboring cities, the Church is built in a few days, and also little cells for the use of the Brothers.
[18] The miracles, which in what follows we are about to relate, we learned, a certain Priest and Monk, a very reverend man, John f of Nusco by surname, our fellow-citizen and the holy Father's disciple, relating them. Bidding a certain stranger to work for him, For he said, that, after it was enjoined from heaven upon Guilielmus the Confessor of the Lord, that on the Virgilian Mountain in honor of the Holy Virgin Mary he should build a Church; the stones being gathered into one, the rocks dissolved into cement, all apparatus collected, builders hired, for building the Church, the Man of God with all effort, solicitous and devout, persisted. On a certain day, at length, while he attentively pressed on the same work; behold a certain Ligurian, a stranger, Gualterius by name, having a withered arm, came to the same place: who, when he saw the man of God and the builders, intent on the fabric of the same Church; here and there began to look about like a spy. Whom the Confessor of the Lord, seeing going round and inspecting, said to him; Why, brother, art thou a spy of our fabric? If thou art a craftsman of such work, begin, and do not neglect to work. And he, him excusing the invalidity of his arm, O my Father, would that my ability did not fail! For if I could, your sanctity would not more gladly command me, a most wretched man, than I would obey your commands. For I, in the parts of Liguria, not ignorant of the architectonic art, nay most skilled and instructed, existed; but now, my sins requiring it, I am efficacious or fit neither for this nor for any other work to be accomplished. For when I labored at building a certain tower in our parts (a misfortune impending), I fell miserably from the upper parts, and so it came about that, from the same ruin which I suffered, I lost the whole arm irremediably; and from that hour I hold it almost withered and useless.
[19] And saying these things, with grief, drawing out with his sound hand the sick arm, he tearfully showed it to the Man of God. he heals him; Beholding which, the Confessor of the Lord William, moved with mercy upon him, groaned in the spirit of his heart, agitating inner things; and trusting in the Lord, he showed him a certain stone, and said; In the name of our Lord
Jesus Christ, take that stone, and set it in the building. Who forthwith approaching the stone, his soundness, which he had never had better, being recovered, lifted it with both hands; and rejoicing and exulting, with swift course set it in the building. and, made a Religious, he often makes use of him. But not unmindful nor ungrateful of so great a benefit, fallen down at the feet of the holy Man, abundantly for joy pouring forth tears, for the restitution of his health he gave thanks to almighty God and the blessed Man; and a few days intervening, he devoutly and humbly received the Habit of sacred Religion; and, made his disciple, with fervent charity continually obeyed his commands. Who afterward, living many times, built very many works by the skill of his art: for in the church of S. Caesarius a house, and at Cuneatum a church, and many other buildings in the monastery he built; and so at last, the term of his life being consummated, he fell asleep in the Lord.
[20] Among the miracles also, which through the venerable man William almighty God deigned to work, this memorable one, by the diligence of the ancients, came to our ears. For this most holy Father, To supply the place of a devoured ass while the aforementioned Temple was being erected, used an ass for carrying stones, timbers, and other things necessary for the work; which, when, let loose through the mountain, it wandered grazing, is invaded by a wolf; and soon torn by its wild teeth, was made its food. he commands a wolf: When the Confessor of the Lord William learned this; in the name of the blessed Virgin Mary, in whose honor the church was being built, he commands the wolf forthwith to undergo the works and labors to be performed by the ass. Wonderful power of God, and merits of the faith of the blessed man! At his voice, ferocity being cast aside, with head bent, as if with a human mind, the voracious wolf g received the commands of the holy Father; and, saddled, underwent the place of the ass, until the whole work was finished. But let it seem wonderful to no one that the wolf could undergo the place of the ass; for, even if nature denied it; yet almighty God supplied the strength, that the work begun might be finished as quickly as possible, h and that all the people might perceive how dear to God himself the holy Father William was.
[21] Therefore the church being built, and a not small multitude gathered together there for the service of God, it pleased the blessed Man, by common counsel, that in honor of the Mother of God, and ever-virgin Mary, i it be dedicated. Setting out, then, to the Bishop of Avellino, k he humbly showed what the petition was concerning that Church of his and of his brothers. The Church finished and dedicated, But he (his desire being heard) with great gladness of heart promised that according to his will he would satisfy his petitions. A day being appointed, then, the holy l Pentecost, the church was dedicated with solemn rite to the B. Virgin Mary. To the dedication, then, of this sacred temple a very great multitude of people assembled; in which a certain woman was present, who for seven years, her speech being lost, was silent as a mute; but the sanctity of the venerable man being heard, a woman lame in her knees anxious for the health of her body, by what nod she could, with her kinsmen inquired where or who the servant of God was. What more? Led to him, and falling down at his knees, she was asked by the servant of God what she sought. And she suddenly (wonderful omnipotence of God!) at his interrogation, without any impediment, answered with free voice. When this miracle resounded in the ears of the multitude, all with one mouth praising God, is divinely healed, began publicly to proclaim him a Saint. The woman also, her health being received, not guilty of ingratitude, through all the borders of that region, how much for the love of the holy man William the Lord had bestowed upon her, incessantly proclaimed.
[22] Meanwhile, the sanctity of the venerable Man being divulged, the Nobles of those parts, with the utmost devotion, a stone, attempted in vain by 5 pairs of oxen, with a thankful mind, offered him whatever helps they could for the sustenance of the Brothers; among whom a certain one, Adam by name, m by the authority of the Bishop of Frequento, offered a certain church dedicated to the honor of S. Caesarius n the Martyr. To which, while the man of God frequently went to visit it; he saw by chance a marble sarcophagus, the greater part of which, left there anciently, the earth had covered. Its usefulness for the aforesaid church being therefore weighed, he ordered the Brothers standing by to uncover it, and to carry it to the church without delay. He, then, withdrawing to the church, they avidly, desiring to obey their Father, joined together five pairs of oxen to draw it. Whom, after, urging them with goads and cruel blows, they see cannot be moved, they forthwith report the matter to the Father. Hearing which, smiling, as was his custom, always to have (as we said) cheerfulness in his countenance, and rebuking their inertia, he came by himself to the place where that marble lay. Then, four pairs of oxen being removed, the two oxen by two young oxen he draws it to the fabric. which remained, striking with the staff which he carried in his hand, he commands them to go. At whose voice, the stone was moved with such ease, as if it were not a marble rock, but dry wood; and itself following the footsteps of the oxen, as far as the door of the church, which was distant almost eight furlongs, it carried it: which to the present day is still seen in the front of that church, from which, a few days after, to the monastery, now built on the Virgilian mountain, the venerable Father betook himself. o
NOTES OF D. P.
CHAPTER IV.
The place of his anchorite life translated from the Virgilian to the Lacenum, and thence to the Cuneatum mountain: B. John, a companion, added and dismissed.
[23] From abundant large alms flowing in The venerable man of God William dwelt, with the aforementioned Presbyters and several Brothers, on the Virgilian Mountain; which, on account of the excessive intemperance of cold, except in the three summer months, is difficult and very laborious to ascend. At the time, then, when he could, a very great multitude of people, flocking to him, offered gold, silver, and what they could have, at the feet of the holy Man: which, kindly receiving like a good dispenser, he retained what he knew necessary for the Brothers, the rest he distributed to the poor. The aforesaid Presbyters, made Monks by the reception of the habit, beholding these things; struck long since by the dart of avarice, and distrustful of God's mercy; began first with blandishing voices to the Venerable Father
to persuade by asking, the Brothers complaining that nothing was laid up for the future, that, foreseeing the future, he should expend not so lavishly the things that were offered; but rather find a chest, in which money might be laid up for the work of that church: for it could happen, they testified, that the people would cease from this liberality, and they themselves be tried by want of necessary things. After they see this proceed otherwise than they judged, and that assent was not given to their prayers (for the venerable Father testified that a church is destroyed by money rather than built, and that they ought to possess nothing earthly in this world), at last with insane voices they burst into clamors, saying; that he acted against right, since the goods of the church, which are common, which also were offered rather for their offices and prayers than for his merits, he, against their will, distributed to the poor.
[24] But he, humbly and blandly answering their clamors, exhorted them with such addresses: What is it, my Brothers, He constitutes a Provost in his stead. that you make a din by clamoring? what is it, that you tumultuate with an inconsiderate voice? I have told you, it irks me not to repeat the same: the King of the ages you chose as your inheritance. Him alone love, him alone possess. Leave, I pray, secular things to the secular, but you prefer spiritual things to secular. But if (which God forbid) the same is fixed in your mind, and that immutable opinion of money sits with you; know you that I cannot at all do this. A Provost, a then, being substituted, Albertus by name, the Regular b norm being delivered, since he saw that among them he could profit no further; fearing lest by his deeds they should fall into greater detriments of their souls; c five of the unlettered Brothers being taken, he withdrew thence, seeking a greater asperity of places.
[25] Having traversed, then, certain places, at length the man of God William with the aforetouched five unlettered Brothers came to Mount d Lacenum. He passes to the Lacenum mountain: A most dense wood surrounds this mountain from its very root to the summits of the height; in which, somewhat depressed, it makes a certain plain bare of trees of about twelve furlongs. Through whose middle a river running down perforates the mountain, and runs down impetuously even to the root of the mountain. After he came to that place, where, on account of excessive cold, being deserted by his companions he made single huts for himself and his companions: who, however, unable to endure the excessive asperity of the cold, not long after withdrew from him. Here, while, destitute of human solace, devoting himself to contemplation, and content with the roots of herbs, he prayed without intermission; a certain man of great authority, John by name, the servant of almighty God (of whom mention has been made, and who afterward, in that place which is called Pulsanum, built a Monastery) came to visit him. Who, his constancy of Religion being seen and known, constrained by fraternal love, began to live and dwell with him, solicitous and devout: and until they were divinely admonished B. John joins himself: to depart from that place and to minister to the Lord elsewhere, between them there was no discourse and holy action except concerning contempt of the world, mortification of the flesh, instance of prayer, hope of future beatitude. Kindled, then, with the love of charity, attending to the leisure of divine contemplation, they panted with burning desire for the prize of the supernal calling.
[26] Also before his coming, the venerable Father William had resolved that in the time of rest he would pass the night in prayers, and Christ offering himself to be seen and in the daytime hours, to the torment of his body even to weariness, would walk through the thorny and rough places of the grove: which afterward both observed more devoutly. But when on a certain day, walking after his manner, he had before the eyes of his mind the Lord Jesus, with whose love he unceasingly burned; suddenly, behold, him whom he spiritually beheld, bodily in that form in which he suffered appeared to him. His garments indeed were whiter than snow, but his face more splendid than the sun: whom as soon as he beheld, so perfectly (he himself granting it) he knew him, as if in the most blessed company of the Apostles he had from the beginning conversed, and been refreshed by his sacred sight, and instructed by his familiar discourses. Forthwith, then, prostrate at his feet, and abundantly flowing with tears for joy, he began with humble prayer to ask such things: O God, Fashioner of all and Healer of minds, who, deigning to be born of a Virgin, and made a victim for us, didst break the ancient Dragon; I humbly implore thy mercy, that, as long as I remain in this frail little body (in which, while the spirit lusts against the flesh, and the flesh against the spirit, there is for me no certain victory over the enemy) thou wouldst deign so to visit me with the grace of thy spirit, he commands him to migrate elsewhere. that, strengthened with the firmness of virtue, nothing may be able to separate me from thy charity. To whom the Lord; William, William, beholding the bowels of your charity toward me, I have deigned visibly to appear in the form which thou seest; at the same time, that, comforting thee placed in the prison of the flesh, I myself might admonish thee not to make delay here, nor to stand e in this place; but to withdraw from it: for elsewhere thou art necessary to me. At these words, forthwith remembering his companion, he began to ask that his Confrere too (if it could be) might behold him. And the Lord; Go, said he, and call him. But when together they were present to behold him at intervals; they could not now see him so clearly as before, or converse with him: but his feet the aforesaid John held. Then, returning to their little cell with joy, together they began to think how, obeying the Lord's command, they should desert the place.
[27] At that time indeed, f a certain man of Benevento, his familiar, whose wife was held by a grievous languor, Asked to visit the sick woman coming to him, began with suppliant voice to ask; that, going to Benevento, he would deign to visit his wife: for with so great love (as he confessed) she desired to behold him, that, if the opportunity of beholding him were given her, she thought she could forthwith be freed from her infirmity. Whose prayer the Man of God having heard, said that he could not go at present; but when it should be allowed, he would gladly hasten to see her; and therefore he admonished him to return. But when night had come, him whom, waking, the woman could not see, sleeping she beheld in this manner. For it was for her to see, he appears to her by night, and restores health, that, a candle being lighted, he entered her house, and it being fixed in the wall, bearing his steps to her bed, he asked her what she wished. At whose interrogation the woman, sighing and groaning, disclosing the cause of her infirmity, asked his intervention for her health. And the Man of God, Fear not, a sign of his presence being left. for thou art now made whole. But when morning had now come, she leaped up from her bed so unharmed, that not even any vestiges of the contraction, which she had suffered, appeared: the candle also, which dreaming she had seen fixed in the wall, g waking she recognized fixed in the same wall.
[28] Meanwhile, while they deferred to depart from the same place; behold on a certain day, while both were sitting together in the hut, The huts at Lacenum being divinely burned suddenly they behold the hut burned by fire. While the one of them, who was stronger, in vain busied himself to extinguish its burning; he beheld all the other huts also being burned. From this they now more manifestly knew that they could not remain there further; and that they had acted against the will of God, because they had remained there so long. Setting out, then, on the journey, again and again they seek fitting places. The following night the Lord appeared to John in a vision, foretelling that he ought to serve in the East, William in the West; he also intimated the number of the days of the life of each. he withdraws to Mount Cuneatum. Which the issue of the matter afterward proved: for, as he was wont frequently to foretell, two years before he departed from life. When, then, they come to a Mountain named Cuneatum, h they build there a certain little cell, in which for not a few days they remained together. For, according to the vision of the Lord, John, leave being asked of S. William (though unwilling), departing from the place and from the blessed Man, withdrew to the East into Mount Garganum; where he both built a Monastery, and until the last day of his life remained in the service of God: but the Confessor of God William with the Lord remained intrepid on the same Mountain.
NOTES OF D. P.
CHAPTER V.
Those injurious to S. William punished, and other miracles on Mount Cuneatum.
[29] At that time indeed, a certain noble and very rich man, A Hunter, thinking the Saint to be a spy, Lord of a certain adjacent village, with a retinue of many horsemen, clients, and hunters, and with hawks and hunting dogs, for the sake of hunting came to the mountain on which the Man of God was. The hunters, then, while they ranged round about through the alps and groves, that they might take something by hunting; some of them come to the place in which the Man of the Lord William was engaged in prayer. Whom when they beheld, one of them, more audacious than the rest, rolling bloody eyes, with swollen aspect, suffused with the gall of bitterness, said to him: Who art thou? or, Whence hast thou come hither? In truth I say, Thou art a spy. But he, as he was of dove-like simplicity, with cheerful countenance answered; As thou confessest, brother, I am a spy. And truly he was a spy, because
he sought with all effort a fitting place, it wounds his head: and one apt for Religion to dwell in. But when that iniquitous one heard, "Because I am a spy"; inflamed and seething with fury, with foaming stroke, the hunting-spear being brandished, he sharply struck the Man of God on the head; and because the Confessor of the Lord, for the maceration of his flesh, wore an iron helmet, shattered by the stroke of the striker, the wound of the breaking opened the skin of his head, and gore impetuously flowing from the wound poured over and stained his face and garments. and being invaded by a demon But when that savage man had struck the head of the holy Man with monstrous ferocity; the devil, the inciter of evils, invaded him; and he who before had inflamed him to strike the Man of God, began to dwell in him, and to vex him horribly at his pleasure. Whom his companions, struck with admiration and stupor, seized; and, although with the greatest difficulty, led him to their Lord and their Companions.
[30] Whom their Lord, and the other hunters perceiving, when they catch sight of him being led to them so miserably bound with bound hands, terrified with huge dread, inquired bound, he is dragged back to him by his companions: what this was, and how it had happened to him. But they, disclosing the whole in order, narrated with truthful speech as it had happened. Therefore that noble man, weighing this to have been done by divine judgment, said to his companions with him: Unless that man were a servant of Christ, almighty God, looking down from on high, would not so quickly and evidently be the avenger of his injury; but let us, even unwilling, take him by the head and with the effort of all our strength drag him to the Man of God; and falling down at his knees, let us not cease to beg with humble prayer, that he would not disdain to have mercy on this most wicked and most wretched man. They, performing the commands, lead that demoniac, his hands bound behind, tearing himself and raging, though unwilling, to the servant of God; and forthwith prostrate on the ground, suppliantly asked the Confessor of Christ William, these praying that he would intercede for the wretch, saying; O servant of almighty God, by him we beseech thee with suppliant prayer, who deigned to entreat the clemency of the Father for those who crucified him, whose imitator we unhesitatingly believe thee to be, that thou wouldst deign to receive our prayers, and to this most wretched and wicked man, offending against thy probity, the clemency of thy piety wouldst not delay to succor: that as for the enormity of the crime which he exercised against your sanctity we behold him invaded by the devil, so by thy sacred prayers we may behold him freed.
[31] But the Confessor of the Lord William, answering, said to them: May almighty God have mercy on you, Brothers, William, from humility, hardly acquiescing, why did you wish to opine such things of me? For I am not of such merit, or of such authority, that divine justice would permit this to be done in vengeance of my injury; for I am a sinful man; but know that, the sins of others requiring it, he incurred this calamity. But they pressed on with prayers, and with humble voices saying, Have mercy, have mercy, most holy Father; and look not at the enormity of our crimes, who are not worthy to be heard, but at the purity of thy sanctity. For we know, and hold for certain, that unless he had impudently stretched out his hand against thee and struck thee, the devil would not assuredly have received from the Lord most just power to vex him so strongly. But pray, we beseech, the clemency of the Saviour, that as for the vengeance of thy injury almighty God permitted the demon to enter into him, he may drive it from him; and as we have been made sad over his misery, so, rejoicing over his deliverance, glad and exulting we may be able to return to our own. he drives out the demon. Seeing, then, the Man of God the constancy of their faith, directing the eye of his heart to the bowels of piety, with which he continually abounded in the Lord, he commanded that, the demoniac being left, they should give him for a little a place of praying. And when they had withdrawn apart, the Confessor of Christ, his knees bent, for a long time besought the divine power. Finally, the prayer being completed, the demon, who so very savagely vexed the wretch, immediately went out from him. But the Man of God, having loosed him from the manacles with which he had been bound, having called his Lord and Companions, rendered him to them sound and unharmed.
[32] But that Master, weighing all the things which God wrought through his servant, marveled greatly; and, terrified with huge dread, and fallen down at his feet, most devoutly committed himself to his sacred prayers. Who, adding, said; Father, Hence a concourse beginning to him, if it please thee to build some church in our parts, thou shalt be able to have our counsel and that of our men according to thy pleasure in every way; for we are ready, according to our strength and ability, to obey your Sanctity, and humbly and devoutly to supply whatever is necessary for thy uses; for we believe with undoubting faith that God, through the indwelling grace, is more intensely in thee. And saying these things, leave being asked, he returned to his own with all his retinue, and with great joy. Since, therefore, light can by no means lie hidden in darkness, the fame of his sanctity forthwith became known to all, and a multitude of both sexes, namely of men and women, frequently flocked to him: among whom also Count Robert b began with thirsty breast to run to him to see and hear him. a new monastery is founded. To all of whom he did not cease, out of zeal for charity, to give admonitions of salvation; and by their counsel and solace, and also by the authority of the Diocesan c Pontiff, where it seemed to him more fitting and more opportune, he did not forget to found a Church in honor of the Virgin Mary, Mother of the Lord; and there, Brothers being gathered, he built a monastery. d
[33] There was at that time a certain man of e Albano, of the profession of Grammar; whom knowledge without charity (as it is wont) had puffed up. An envious Grammarian, He, after he heard the blessed Man proclaimed by all the people, kindled with the torch of envy, and lifted up with the swelling of pride; began not only before the people, but even
before Count f Robert, to disparage the blessed Man, and to derogate from his sanctity; namely, that, as an unlearned man and without letters, he did not know what he did, or what he uttered; and that, if the opportunity of speaking with him were given, he would show him to all ignorant and unknowing. On a certain day, then, it happened, he being present, that the holy Man, for the sake of ecclesiastical business, approached the aforesaid Count. There is no need of words; speech was forthwith begun between them, having met and been overcome by the Saint, a disputation arose between the lettered man and the unlearned. But, because to the Holy Spirit, who spoke through him, there is no wisdom, no prudence, which can resist; the Count recognizing it, the contumacious and proud Grammarian withdrew confounded. Moved, then, with the gall of grief, his companions and friends being taken for the vengeance of his disgrace, he beats him injuriously: he explores the way by which the Man of God was to pass, the explored one he besets, the beset one he guards. The servant of God passing, then, the impious band meets him, and basely, having cast him down from his horse, afflicts him with a savage beating; in no wise sparing his companion either.
[34] When, then, so great a crime being perpetrated, the wicked men had fled; he keeping the matter secret, his companion, grievously bearing the evil inflicted, as one who had newly come from the world, prepares to go to the Count, about to make a public accusation: but the Saint of the Lord, his will being known, set about to recall him to patience with such words: The sons of this world, men of riches, guard with diligent care whatever is dearer and best to them, lest they lose it; and a hidden treasure, lest it become known to others, they more studiously protect. What is it, then, that with precipitate will thou hastenest to betray our riches and treasure, and, betrayed, negligently to lose them? For our wealth, riches, and glory are injuries, scourges, and the reproaches which we suffer for the love of God; which, as impatience accompanies, all are forthwith lost. Where is that which the Lord says in the Gospel: If anyone shall strike thee on one cheek, offer him the other? Seal, I pray, thy heart, Brother; and because thou hast willed such things, do penance, and make this manifest to no one henceforth. These and other things said, with all patience they returned to the monastery. God himself takes vengeance. But not long after God, who is the avenger of all crimes, struck that Grammarian, the son of pride and iniquity, with a most evil languor: for his legs so rotted, that for the greatest stench not even the nearest were willing to approach him; and tortured in that stench for two years, he died.
[35] I think this is not to be passed over, that when on the same Mount Cuneatum the Man of God dwelt, He orders a boar harmful to his garden to be driven off by wolves. he had fitted for himself a little garden, which with his own hands he himself cultivated. Meanwhile a certain boar, after its custom coming from the wood, rooting up what the Saint had sown, devastated it. When on a certain day he had beheld it in the detriment of his own labor, with loud voice he began to cry; Where are they? where are the defenders of my little garden? At whose voice two wolves suddenly coming, with ears pricked up began to stand by, as if expecting what the Man of the Lord would command them. To whom he commands that, the boar being taken without delay, they should drag it from the garden, and permit it to go away unhurt. When this had been done, the boar returned no more to the little garden.
[36] At the same time also, a certain man had a lunatic daughter: whom while he frequently beheld wearied with so great peril, moved with fatherly piety, and turned to God with all his heart, The lunatic daughter being healed by the merits of the Saint, he appealed to the ears of his piety with such words: O God, who, wonderfully working by the merits of thy Saints, ceasest not to glorify them, I prostrate adore the clemency of thy piety, that through the merits of William the Confessor thou wouldst grant health to my daughter, by whose intercessions if ever I shall know that I have obtained what I ask; I promise to thy Majesty, that, the Habit of sacred Religion being received, under his discipline I will continually remain in thy service. God, looking down on his vows from on high, so by the merits of the blessed Man bestowed the gifts of health upon his daughter, that she, living long after in the world, his Habit the father by vow receives. never felt such peril. When the father learned this, not unmindful of his vow, he hastened forthwith to William; and received the garment of Religion from him, relating in order how great things for his love the Lord had deigned to work. When the holy and venerable man heard this, he strove to admonish; that he should ascribe it not to his merits, which were none, but to the purity of his faith.
NOTES OF D. P.
CHAPTER VI.
In the Compsa valley two monasteries built, miracles done: an alluring harlot overcome by fire.
[37] A monastery, then, being built on the aforetouched Mount Cuneatum, and the Brothers being gathered, leaving a Prelate there; not unmindful that in the western part he ought to serve the Lord, Translated to the Compsa valley saying Farewell to them, the norm of the Rules being first delivered, he departed from them; a and at length, God leading, came to the Compsa b valley, and beside the streams of the Aufidus, with good omen, began to dwell; where he used a certain tree for a hut for almost the space of one year. There was at that time in the monastery of the Virgilian mountain a Prelate, Albertus by name, a man most honorable in all things, whom the Confessor of the Lord William, when he departed from that place, had set over the same monastery. He, when at the church of Caesarius, the Martyr of Christ, he had set workmen, that they should perform some of the work; the aforesaid John of Nusco being sent from Monte Vergine he delegated the aforesaid John of Nusco, from whom we learned all these things, to the same obedience, that whatever was done about the building of the work, he should intimate to him by reporting; for he had not yet been promoted to the grade of Priest, that he should speculate the depths of divine contemplation with the eye of the mind. Yet, given to the externals of action, he busied himself sedulously to fulfill the things which were commanded him (as the order of Monks requires). c Who, performing the commands of him who ordered, he receives him with hospitality. hastened to the church of S. Caesarius; and, all things being inspected for which he had come, said within himself: I will not return until I go to Goleto, beside the Aufidus, where our Lord William has newly come, d and see how he fares, that I may strive to report of the state of his continence also to Lord Albertus. These things, then, being thought, he came to him thirsty about sunset; and mutually saluting each other, and giving the kiss of peace, the man of God with diligent inquiry inquired about the act and continence of the Brothers of the church of the Virgilian mountain: but John (as the order of the matter required) in order set about diligently to explain the things concerning which he had been questioned. And so, all the things about which he was asked being heard, the Confessor of the Lord William said to him; Brother, the hour of departing has now passed, remain with us until morning, and on the following day (God granting) thou shalt set out.
[38] In the place, then, where the man of the Lord dwelt, there was a hut, before whose doors a little building, small and curved, Here he sees Angels coming to him praying drawn up in the form of a shell, joined to the same hut, adhered, and in the summit of the same shell (which is commonly called e Coccia) there was a very small hole, whence the ray of daylight, entering, illumined the hut. But on that night the Confessor of the Lord William, within the chamber of the hut, the door closed and bolted, devoted himself to prayer; but John outside in the little building, given to Psalmody, kept watch. About the hour of the second watch of the night the same John saw, as it were, two great birds, white after the manner of arions storks?, f and splendid, with great light enter through that hole; under the form of birds, at whose entrance he beheld all the black darkness of the night put to flight. Whom when he had seen flying about, hovering long over his head, he said within himself: Unless these birds were Angels of God, they would not assuredly enter here undaunted with inestimable light. While he revolved these things in his heart, he evidently beheld those birds, the doors being closed, enter to the Man of God. But John, wondering at what he had seen and terrified, passed that whole night sleepless, and was in a ferment with meditating, desiring to investigate what this might be. But morning come, about to depart, he asked leave. To whom the man of the Lord said: Go in peace; and know, foreknowing, that what in this night thou hast deserved to see by divine prompting, as long as thou livest, it is not permitted thee to see further. These things heard, John, made more and more fearful, did not presume to ask him as, returned to his own, he related. what that vision was; but bidding farewell, with all haste returned to Monte Vergine. No one, therefore, can waver that the spirit of prophecy was in the Confessor of Christ William; since both the Angels frequently delegated to him for guard he beheld with bodily eyes, and that John had seen the same Angels in the form of birds he recognized without an informer; and that he could not see them again he announced to him. Which afterward, that the truth of the prophet might be proved, he in no way deserved to see thereafter.
[39] The venerable Father inhabited the Compsa valley, and meanwhile in the territory of Goleto near Nusco, The Saint founds a monastery for Virgins, he beheld a place fit for building a monastery there. For the fertility of the land, the abundance of timber, the affluence of waters, presented the appearance of opportunity. What more? By the great devotion of the lord g of that place, he built there a monastery of men and women, to the glory and honor of the Saviour h of all, our Lord Jesus Christ; in which, that he might be a winner for the Lord of both sexes, he gathered no small multitude of Virgins; to whom also he delivered the Habit of sacred Religion. Whose life we have judged it worth the trouble both for us to write, and for all the faithful to hear. For in their most sacred company there is none who, even in infirmity, has known wine: but flesh, cheese, and eggs, they think it a crime even to name. For their food is, on three days of the week, only bread, and apples with raw herbs: but on the other three days, they have only one dish with bread, seasoned with oil; but on the Lord's day they pass their life by a similar course. and forms them with a rigid discipline Also from the feast of All Saints until the Nativity of the Lord, and from Septuagesima until the Resurrection of Christ, they feed only on bread and water; some also abstain even from bread, content with apples and legumes. Theirs indeed is the common will and desire, crucifying the flesh with its vices and concupiscences, to die to the world and to live to the Lord. But lest, although it is expedient, occupied about describing the Religion of the holy women, we seem to digress far from our purpose; let us bring back our style to him concerning whom the discourse was begun.
[40] There was a cause, then, that he had to go to Benevento, i and when he was near the walls of the city (as is the custom) he directed a messenger to a certain gardener, with whom he had lodged; Near Benevento a girl blind from birth but that man had a certain little daughter of about eight months, who, born blind from her mother's womb, had not seen the light. But when her mother was certified by the messenger of the coming of the servant of God; the infant being taken, she ascended to a watchtower, awaiting when the man of God should come. As soon, then, as the man of God descended, suddenly the woman coming to him, prostrated her little daughter at his feet, saying: Receive her, for she is born to thee, not to me: and forthwith ascending, in the more remote part of the house, the door closed, she hid herself; but his companion, taking the infant, ascended into the house with the venerable Father. After they had ascended, the infant being taken by the companion, and placed in his lap, he fell asleep together with her. Nor was there delay, the infant suddenly awakened, as if terrified with the greatest terror, crying and screaming, roused the Saint of God: who, while, as is wont, awaking from sleep, he raised his hand; by his touch he enlightens her, her sight now received, with his sacred hand he began to lead the infant this way and that and to handle her. When his companion beheld this, immediately rising he began more diligently to test, whether now the supernal goodness, by the merits of the holy Man, had bestowed on her the gifts of health. When, then, what he had long borne in mind, he knew by certain indications, forthwith he announced to the Saint of God concerning her health. He imposing silence on him, the mother, as she was solicitous, awaiting the issue of the matter, forthwith bursting from the chamber, knew the matter as it was. Who, for the huge gladness which the health of her daughter ministered, indicated to her neighbors and acquaintances what the merits of the holy Man had done. This matter was heard through the whole city, the bells were rung, a concourse of peoples was made to him, all with one mouth confessed him truly a Saint and a friend of God. k
[41] At a certain time, at a certain church, by a certain Castle, named Binetta, l he ordered a house to be made, for whose building certain of the Brothers attending hired workmen; At Binetta, water being turned into wine for the workmen hired by his command. for whom, when wine now failed, they sent a boy to a certain church of S. George, which is not far distant from the walls of Bari, for the sake of carrying wine: fearing his delay, the cup-bearer set a vessel full of water beside that which had little wine, thinking, if, he delaying who had gone for wine, wine should be necessary for the workmen, to mix it with the wine, and so satisfy their will. But when, the sun now setting, that one delayed, and the builders demanded wine; according to his purpose, about to mix with wine the water which he had set in the vessel, he saw it had been turned into the best wine: they inquiring whence he had such good wine, he answered nothing else than that God had given it. Who, then, would doubt that by the merits of the holy Man so great a miracle happened, whose help of sanctity, as we afterward heard him confessing, drawing the water, he invoked?
[42] When in the time of harvest the Confessor of the Lord William stayed in the place m which is called Crypta-muscarum Cave of the Flies, and the sheaves of the reapers had been gathered into a heap through divers places of the field; A fire burning up the gathered crops, suddenly a vehement fire appeared from the eastern regions, burning all the crops of that Region: which his disciples, who were with him, seeing, struck with terror, say to the Man of God, Behold, a fire with monstrous onset approaches nearer, burning and devouring all things, and no one prevails to resist it, and what shall we do, when we see our crops consumed, and can in no way defend or protect them? Alas, for grief! in the following year we shall have to beg. And saying these things, they were cut to their hearts, the Saint's scapular being carried around through the field, not knowing what they should do, or whither they should turn. To whom the holy Father; Do not, Brothers; do not be saddened, and saying this, taking off the scapular which he wore, he gave it to one of his disciples, saying; Quickly mount a horse, and gird about with this scapular as quickly as possible the whole field. Who forthwith mounting a horse, with quickened course fulfilled the commands of him who ordered; and surveyed the whole field, in which the heaps of sheaves
were united. But when the flames of the fires reached the bounds which the scapular had hedged about, they did not presume to advance further; but forthwith were so divinely extinguished, as if an inundation of rains had enveloped them. But his disciples seeing, it is extinguished. that almighty God by the merits of his servant had powerfully extinguished the monstrous fires, obeyed him the more devoutly, the more they beheld him connected to divine love through the flashings of miracles.
[43] In the city of Salpi, n which seems to be situated in the parts of Apulia, there was a certain man named Jordanus, who had cleaved to the holy Man with the familiarity of brotherhood; to whose house, whenever the Confessor of the Lord had a passage thence, in going and returning, he turned aside, as to a Brother's lodging; whom he venerably receiving, devoutly to him and his companions accompanying him, with all his strength exhibited service. On a certain day, then, when after his accustomed manner he had turned aside to lodge with him; By the water of the washing of his hands a lunatic is healed. the wife of the aforesaid Jordanus, Delicia by name, remembered a certain lunatic girl, a native of the same city; whose trouble of infirmity had been horrible and hateful to her parents, neighbors, and all acquaintances. For the aforesaid woman, touched by the divine spirit, said within herself, If of the washing of the hands of this holy Man I shall give a drink to this lunatic girl; I believe that from the sickness, by which she is so grievously held, by his merits the Divine clemency will free her. Revolving these things within the secrets of her heart, at the hour at which the man of the Lord reclined to dine, water being taken, the Saint washed his hands, which, a cup being set beneath, the woman with sagacious skill strove to receive; thence she reverently gave it to the lunatic girl to drink: and so it came about that, all sickness being driven away, the girl was restored to most entire soundness, and thereafter no signs or appearance of her past infirmity ever appeared to her.
[44] Since concerning the miracles and virtues of the holy Father William (the divine grace cooperating) we have attempted to discourse; of a certain miracle, among the rest most worthy of memory, we are compelled with searching genius to treat; because through all the parts of the borders of Apulia, by the mouths of many of the faithful, and (to speak more amply) as it were by the rumor of the common folk above all the virtues which almighty God deigned to work through him, it is named by all. And lest by idle silence and unfruitful taciturnity it be handed over to unworthy oblivion, it pleases that with the style of our writing, to set forth that miracle, Rogerius the King judging hypocrisy to underlie the Saint's exhortations, all idleness being driven away, with ardent devotion of mind we approach it. It is said by many, who learned from persons who were present, by truthful assertion, that in that time in which King Rogerius, ruling the monarchy of Sicily and Apulia, governed the reins of the whole kingdom, it happened that the same King came into Apulia; o to whom the Confessor William, attending, began to give admonitions of salvation; and, although the King gladly heard him, in his heart he hesitated whether he could be held truthful or a hypocrite. But when by frequent approaches (the Consecration being performed) he instructed the aforesaid King and the Magnates of his Court (the Holy Spirit dictating) with fervid mind in divine eloquence, and solicitous and devout persisted in those same sacred preachings; the Admiral p of the same King, Georgius by name, at the words of holy exhortation flowing forth from his mouth, humbly and with fragrant devotion attended, desiring more and more, after the manner of Mary Magdalene, with thirsty breast to draw the streams of the sacred eloquence; believing him to be not a hypocrite, but a truthful servant of God. The said King, then, seemed to believe him a hypocrite rather than truthful.
[45] But it happened that on a certain day the Confessor of the Lord William attended the King, and ministered the discourse of sacred eloquence to him and all his household; a harlot offers to give proof of him through herself; and after the end of the discourse, bidding farewell to the King, he withdrew and went off to his lodging. And behold a certain most beautiful little harlot, approaching nearer to the Lord King, said to him; If it should proceed from the good pleasure of the Royal Majesty; I would quickly show how great is the simulation of that hypocrite; for in the following night I will of set purpose make him lie with me. And the King, looking upon the strumpet, answered with great laughter, saying; If thou canst perpetrate this by thy craft, the use of lust being performed, I will give thee most ample goods; that the Admiral, who venerates him, not as a hypocrite, but as a Prophet, may feel himself deluded and confounded. Who forthwith departing from the King's face, came quickly to the house in which the Man of God lodged with his companions; and in the manner of harlots addresses him, saying: Why, Lord, afflicting thy body longer, dost thou lose the joys of thy youth? thou who couldst gain the goods of the world, and sweetly enjoy worldly delights and (what is more desirable and more delightful) be delighted by the embraces of a most beautiful young woman; to whom, offering herself impudently, he appoints a night. certainly, if it should please your most loving person, thou couldst have me in thy bed at thy pleasure. And the holy Man with religious dissimulation answered, saying; I am willing. And the strumpet, When wilt thou that I come? And the Saint, At whatever hour thou wilt. And she; This night I will come. And the Servant of God, With good omen mayest thou come. But the impudent little harlot, returned to the King, with huge derision and violent guffaw, said to him; Behold, he whom the Admiral believed a preacher and a servant of God, in the twinkling and one moment his sanctity appeared; for in the coming night he unhesitatingly promised that he would lie with me.
[46] The King, then, smiling against the Admiral, said; Behold, whom thou heldest a man of God and servant of the Most High, She reports this to the King and his Admiral how at the voice of one seduction he promised that he would consent to a little harlot? And the Admiral to the King; Through womanly impulse the most pure Adam miserably went out of Paradise; the most strong Samson basely lost the sight of his eyes; the most wise Solomon, by fabricating and adoring idols, lost the keenness of knowledge and the love of God; Peter, the Architect of the holy Church and Prince of the Apostles, at the voice of one maidservant fell; and what wonder, if so great a little man gave assent to this horrible little harlot? Yet let us strive subtly to investigate the knowledge of the matter, if it please the Royal Highness; for I believe that this most foul strumpet, the divine clemency favoring, will be proved to have lied in all things. Let us send, if it please, provident and solicitous spies; who, standing secretly and perceiving, the truth being known through them, we may be able to know the issue of the matter. And the King, So be it, as thou hast spoken. The horrible strumpet, answering to the King and to the Admiral, said; If I shall be unable to bring to effect what I have spoken, I never refuse or wish to depart from your sight without the greatest disgrace: and saying these things, she withdrew from the face of the King.
[47] The Confessor of the Lord William, then, foreknowing the coming of the pestiferous woman, but to a bright pyre divinely admonished, ordered an abundance of wood to be brought by his companions, and about sunset, composed in a pyre, the fire being applied beneath, he made it be consumed into a huge heap of coals: so that not only a fire, but even a most monstrous furnace seemed, his companions being ignorant and wondering what he was about to do. And when now the whole world was wrapped in the gloom of night; behold the aforesaid strumpet came, her face anointed with antimony and ointment, with prostibulary and fragrant garments, adorned with fillets and chains in her hair, the crown of her head dressed, turreted with a veil, and crowned with every adornment of deceiving. And when she had sat down beside the Servant of God, to delude him, she said to him; Behold, as befits a young man, flourishing in the flower of youth, thou shalt be able to have a most beautiful young woman in thy bed at thy pleasure. To whom the Saint; And I am ready: if thou wilt lie with me in my bed, I will most gladly receive thee. And she: Where is the chamber, where I may be able to be with thee secretly from thy companions? And the Servant of God, I will show thee both a chamber and a bed in the name of my God. And forthwith rising, the name of the most holy and undivided Trinity being invoked, and the little sign of the Cross being impressed, invited by the Saint, and his arms being bared and his hands naked, he divided through the middle the embers of the fires; and with his sacred spoils garments, between both burnings of the embers casting himself intrepid, he strove to sweep the cinders of the fires; and while for a long time between the two pyres, sweeping at his pleasure, he tarried secure; he spread the garments with which he had cleansed the embers: and falling down he extended himself in the midst of the fire, and called the aforesaid girl, and said to her, Behold, in the virtue of my almighty God, the bed no burning being suffered, in which I wish to rest, I have ready; if it please, come hither, and rest with me. But when, as long as he wished, he had tarried in the fire, he rose nimble: and so (the heavenly grace protecting him) unhurt and unburned he went out of the burning, so that neither a hair of his head, nor a hair of his garment appeared injured by the fire. But the impudent little woman, seeing she departs confounded. what had been done, struck and terrified with fear and admiration, all the composition q and adornment of her body being laid aside, departed confounded; and coming to the Lord King, narrated to him whatever had been said and done.
[48] But morning come, the spies, who had been sent by the King and by Georgius the Admiral, that they might subtly investigate the words and deeds of the holy Man William and of the strumpet; Which being understood with the greatest admiration and compunction of heart, prostrate on the ground at the feet of the Lord King, tearfully strove to intimate in order to the same Lord King and the Admiral all the things which they had heard and seen. The King hearing these things, awakened, fear rushed upon him, and he shuddered at the deed; repenting and grieving that he had dared to tempt the servant of God by deluding him: but the Admiral, rejoicing, exulted over the victory and glory of the man of God, which over him and in him the almighty Lord deigned to show. Not long after, the Confessor of Christ William entered the King's Court, about to perform the Sacred Mysteries and to preach Evangelical admonitions; and the King seeing him coming to him from afar, the repenting King asks pardon of his offense, immediately leaping up from his throne, ran to meet him together with the Admiral: and falling down together at his knees, with tears they suppliantly asked pardon, that, having mercy on them, he would deign to forgive them so most wicked a crime, in that they had dared impudently to tempt so great a servant of God. To whom the servant of God answering, said; Far be it, far be it from me, that I should be disturbed toward you with any fervor of indignation or commotion; for you have not exercised in me anything, except what seems to redound to the praise of God and the glorification of the divine Majesty: and therefore what to the glory of his name almighty God deigned to work, the Saint referring the victory to God. do not ascribe to me; but what his ineffable grace pleased to perform in me, to drive away the sluggishness of your incredulity, and to strengthen the constancy of faith, believe that he wrought. For I am a sinful man, created like to you by an equal creation, subject to the condition of human nature, in the order of members
constructed and compacted in order and quality, exposed and subject to the misery of the flesh; I feel and acknowledge in myself nothing but what is human. But if the Lord, by his unutterable providence, works anything in me; doubt not that he does it for the increase of your salvation.
NOTES OF D. P.
p Thus they call the Archithalassus Admiral, with which office Georgius, surnamed of Antioch, was gifted, Jordanus writes on page 363 in the year 1131, where he refers the beginning of his acquaintance with the Saint to the year 1127, in which he was sent off to Avellino by Rogerius, then still Count, to visit his sister; and on that occasion, going to Monte Vergine, understood from him that all the affairs of the Count, which he commended to his prayers, would proceed most excellently. But in a short time Rogerius acquired almost all Apulia, and was made King of Sicily.
q Renda: But the harlot, with immense tears offering herself and her things at the feet of the Confessor of Christ, seeks the habit of his sacred Religion; and begs that he would found near Venusium a monastery of women. Which the servant of God, desiring to carry out, asks leave of the King: to whom the King offered himself, his kingdom, and his court. The monastery, at the pleasure of the converted harlot, dedicating to the most holy Virgin, he builds another, where he submits a very great abundance of women to the regular yoke: her, for whose sake he founded the monastery, he chooses as Abbess, and by her own name calls Agnes, and leaves her as substitute: but she herself attained so great perfection of religion, that she was reputed by many as a Saint. Yet Jordanus notes that of a monastery of this kind no memory now survives at Venusium, nor Nuns of the white habit.
CHAPTER VII.
Benefits bestowed by King Rogerius on the Saint: his pious death.
[49] Understanding, then, and weighing the King, that not for the cause of boasting, The King, believing S. William given to him from heaven, not with the pride of arrogance, the holy Man addressed him, answering, said to him: As thou assertest, Reverend Father, it is established and certain, that the most clement God, for the issue of our salvation, by his ineffable grace works virtues and miracles; but because through his chosen ones, whom from the beginning of the world, for expelling the darkness of unbelief, and illuminating with the rays of faith the hearts of the faithful, providing he chose, of their number he himself sent thee, to whom be praise and glory always and through the infinite ages of ages; who in our times delegated to our Kingdom such a teacher and illuminator. For unless the Holy Spirit from heaven had extinguished in thee the fires of the flesh and the heats of vices, God would by no means change against nature the burning of material fire, that it might not prevail to burn thee: but as we are confident thou art free from vices, so, by the cooperating grace of the Holy Spirit, we are confident thou art suffused with most abundant virtues. And therefore from this hour and henceforth, not simply as a Servant of God, he devoutly hears his counsels, but as an Apostle and divine messenger, we profess to love and venerate thee. From that day, then, the King, divinely inspired, of the Religious persons of the whole kingdom held none dearer and more lovable to himself than S. William: and so humbly and devoutly he heard him, as if he beheld Peter the Apostle speaking to him: believing that he spoke not by himself, but by him who speaks through the Psalmist, saying; Open thy mouth, and I will fill it: and so with the fervor of charity he loved him, that (as is said in the vulgar proverb, "Of the true and fruitful vine do not hesitate to insert a slip") even induced by love and devotion of him, of his disciples a monastery, before the face of the palace of Palermo in view of the Royal hall, in honor of S. John he most diligently a strove to build; whence to this day, in memory of S. William the Confessor and Hermit, it is called the monastery of S. John of the Hermits. b Ps. 80:11 And besides, by the devotion of the holy Man himself, he received the whole congregation into the protection of his Royal majesty; and erects for him a monastery at Palermo; and enriched and illustrated it with several graces, favors, exemptions, and concessions of goods, as from these two privileges noted below the matter is openly established.
[50] In the name of the most holy and undivided Trinity, and wishing to aid them with alms, etc. Since by the threefold remedy of salvation, namely by prayers, fastings, and almsgivings, the souls of the faithful, both of the living and of the dead, can be freed from the pains of darkness, the divine Page testifies; it is just that whosoever of the faithful, while he survives, should especially turn the intention of his mind to these things; which if they be worthy, both profit the already dead, and, to those still in the flesh, of the nations, if they shall have persevered in working well even to the end (as is read in the Gospel), eternal salvation is promised. We, therefore, Rogerius, by the divine clemency favoring, King of Sicily, of the Duchy of Apulia, and of the Principate of Capua, having heard more frequently (what is read in the Gospel) "Hide alms in the bosom of the poor, and it shall pray for you to the Lord," attending to the promised salvation, Brother in Christ William, by whose prayers he hoped to be defended, Prelate of S. Mary of Monte Vergine, because holily and religiously thou watchest over the service of God without intermission by praying, and by thy holy prayers and those of thy Congregation and of other Religious, the divine mercy going before, we are confident of being relieved; we have judged it worthy, moved by piety, to acquiesce in thy just vow and worthy petition. Wherefore for the salvation of the souls of our father Count Rogerius, and of our mother Adelaide, and of Queen Alviria of blessed memories, and of our other parents, both living and dead; he declares free the possessions of the church of Monte Vergine we will that the church of S. Mary of Monte Vergine, over which thou art seen to preside, and thou and thy successors, living in the same place under the Rule of Religion, freely and quietly forever have and hold all churches and obediences, and the possessions of the same, which you possess and have hitherto possessed, or in future by purchase, donation, exchange, or any just title of donation (the Lord granting) shall be able to acquire, be ratified, and by Royal authority we confirm them; the tenements also and all movables and immovables, and the above-said church with all its obediences and appurtenances, and the persons subject to them, dwelling in whatever part of our Kingdom, we receive into the protection of our Majesty, from every burden, and fortify with the present privilege. We grant also, that if the Brothers of the same church, for their use and utility, shall buy anything by themselves or by their own messengers; no plateaticum market-toll be exacted for this in all our Kingdom. But if the aforesaid Brothers shall sell anything of the goods of the church, let them be compelled to pay no plateaticum c from the price of the things sold; and wheresoever throughout all our kingdom the men of the aforesaid church shall buy cloths, in buying, selling, for the garments of the Monks and of their other men, or anything else, let there be no one who may exact or take from them anything for those things, plaza or any justice for the part of the Court; but in the aforesaid manner let them freely and without exaction sell and buy. We grant also, that of the animals which are seen to pertain to the right of the aforesaid church, and pasturing, no one take or exact herbaticum or aquaticum grazing or water-toll, or make any other exaction; but let all their other things securely, under our protection and freely, be pastured throughout all our Kingdom, in whatever part they shall be found.
[51] We command also by Royal authority, that the men who pertain to the right of the aforesaid church, likewise as to the men pertaining to it, or (the Lord granting) in future shall be known to pertain, suffer no grievance from anyone or molestation, nor let anyone dare to make exaction or colta levy upon them, in whatever part of our Kingdom they shall be found or seen to dwell; by the authority of the King prohibiting all, both clerics and laymen subject to our dominion,
lest any of them, driven by the fury of an insane mind, presume in any way to disquiet or molest the aforesaid churches, obediences, possessions, or the servants of God or the handmaids of Christ, there or elsewhere persisting day and night in continual prayers, and entreating the grace of the Omnipotent for us and the state of our Kingdom, or any men or women who shall have spontaneously offered themselves to the aforenamed churches, or to thee, or to thy successors; nor let any of the Bishops dare in any way to withdraw, or take away, or violently exact from them anything beyond canonical obedience, from the goods of the same churches. and the goods to be acquired in future, Moreover we will, and by the present Privilege sanction, that if any of our Prelates or noble Princes, or of whatever condition they be, shall wish to impart to the aforesaid church of S. Mary of Monte Vergine, and to thee, or thy successors, the benefit of his charity; (saving the right of the Royal Majesty) you may freely have it and peacefully possess it. But this constitution, for the salvation of our predecessors, and as a remedy for our sins and those of our heirs, we have made. If, therefore, any person of our kingdom shall attempt to contravene this privilege; let him pay a hundred pounds of gold to the Royal Court, and to the church of S. Mary of Monte Vergine fifty pounds of gold. But if it be not a person of our kingdom, who shall presume to violate our sanctions; let him be pierced with the sword of anathema, and feel the eternal wrath of Almighty God, the Father and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, unless he come to his senses and correct himself with fitting satisfaction.
† Amen † Amen † Amen †
† The Mark of William, by the grace of God Prince of Taranto, son of the King.
† The Mark of William Caput-asini Ass's-head.
† The Mark of Gaufredus Malleo Venatorio? — Hunting-mallet.
† The Mark of Sighefus, Castellan, witness.
I Robertus of Marsi, witness.
The place of the seal, having at least four inches in diameter, with this circumscribed: † Blessed † be God and † Father † of our Lord † Christ. But among the angles of the right-angled cross thus: Given at Palermo, by the hand of Master Thomas, Chaplain of the King, in the year 1137. on the eighth of the Kalends of September 25 August, in the 15th Indiction, in the year of the Lord's Incarnation 1137.
Rogerius, by the grace of God King of Sicily, of the Duchy of Apulia, and of the Principate of Capua.
[52] Another, having exactly the same exordium down to the mark, * "We," it says, "Rogerius," and "attending, holy Father in Christ William," etc … we grant the Church of S. Mary of Ruffiniana d to thee and thy successors, under the Rule of Religion, freely and quietly forever to have and hold… by Royal authority prohibiting, as above to the end, with the same penalties, the same subscribers, and the same seal: and there is added, Given at Palermo by the hands of Master Thomas, Chaplain of the King, In the year 1140 on the eighth of the Kalends of December 24 November, in the 3rd Indiction, in the year of the Lord's Incarnation 1140, but in the tenth year of the reign of King Rogerius. e
[53] His fame of sanctity, then, growing through the Regions, many of both sexes coming to him, and the word of his preaching resounding, men, leaving their wives, sons, brothers and sisters, and secular riches, with eager mind flew to the mastery of his Religion: women, rejecting the marriages of men, with ardent devotion clung to him; virgins, spurning marriage, and abhorring the delights of the world, and desiring to be coupled to Christ, longed with burning desire to embrace the fellowship of the holy Man William: of both sexes, however, namely of men and of women, the supernal grace cooperating, he founds several monasteries. he founded very many monasteries, in which, by the leading and merits of B. William the Confessor, is continually praised, blessed, and glorified the holy and undivided Trinity, our God, to whom is honor and glory, through the infinite ages of ages. Amen.
[54] Eight years, then, now having elapsed from the founding of the monastery which he had founded in honor of the Lord and Saviour, He desires to speak last to the King, foreknowing the day of his death to be near, he burned with vehement desire to have, with the aforenamed King Rogerius, as he had been wont, a colloquy; namely, lest he should depart from life before he should admonish the prudence of the royal affability of the patronage of justice committed to him, and gladden him with the presence of his sanctity; for no one in his times had been dearer to him, no one more acceptable, no one whose authority was ever held of so great account with the royal Dignity. When, then, of his coming he learned by a sure messenger; hastening with all speed to the King, he set out for Salerno. After, then, of his coming it became known to the ears of the King, by whom honorably received at Salerno, forthwith through his Chancellor and Admiral he ordered him to be led honorably to himself. But when he knew him now to be present near his chamber, rising himself from his throne (the diadem being laid aside) he saluted him meeting him, and taking him by the hand, led him to the place where he was to sit. All, then, being silent, the man of God began with such addresses: As your prudence, O King, knows, frequently have I been wont to visit thee as a son, frequently have I taken care to admonish thee, and striven to recall to thy memory, that thou shouldst so use temporal goods, and so preside over thy kingdom, that, not forgetful of eternal things, with the whole intention of thy heart thou mayest serve Christ alone. Nothing to thy strength, nothing to thy morals, nothing to thy riches, nothing to thy genius, he gives him final admonitions, nothing to thy strenuousness, but to God alone ascribe; for he it is through whom kings reign, and the founders of laws decree just things. He has subjected to thee this kingdom which thou hast, and granted thee to triumph over all enemies, and, keeping thee in peace, ceases not to augment thy Kingdom. Now the same, O King, I admonish, the same I repeat, and for the last time I inculcate; for I shall neither come to thee further; nor, if thou shalt come for me, shalt thou be able to find me.
[55] And the King: What is it, Father, that I hear? What is it, that thou bringest forth from thy holy mouth? Dost thou perhaps speak such things with the fervor of indignation? If I have offended in anything against thy sanctity, I am ready to amend, and more gladly to obey the counsels of your sanctity. And the Saint; There is, O King, no indignation; there is no commotion of heart; I am forbidden to speak more to thee on this. and he bids farewell. Thou therefore, according to the prudence conferred on thee from heaven, conceive what things are said: of equity and justice, as hitherto (the Lord helping) thou hast been defender and protector, be also more diligently (if thou canst) henceforth the patron. For the honor of the King, as the Psalmist testifies, loves justice. Ps. 98:4. The people of God subject to thee I commend; suffer not injury to be done by anyone in thy kingdom to my Brothers and Sisters; that, of the tranquility and peace of the kingdom, remaining in quiet, they may be able to beseech God. These things said, leave being asked of the King, though unwilling, he returned to the Monastery.
[56] The following day; the Sacred Mysteries being performed, he entered the convent of the Nuns; likewise also to his Nuns: and the Chapter being dissolved, from the first hour until the third, of continence and the fervor of divine love the excellent preacher admonished them. But at the last of his sermon, he did not forget to subjoin this; Sisters and daughters, until now (God willing) I have guarded you as best I could; if well, I rejoice with God; if ill, I am saddened for myself; but now I greatly admonish, that henceforth you watch more intently against the snares of the ancient enemy. Let no victory render anyone secure of past time, let no triumph of past life delight anyone, but rather let her hear, Glory not for tomorrow; for thou knowest not what the coming day may bring forth. For there is not for us a wrestling against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, and having prayed for perseverance for them, against the rulers of this world and of darkness, against the spiritual wickednesses in the heavens. Finally we are surrounded by great bands of enemies; all things are full of foes; who, although they possess much, reckoning it for nothing, desire to swallow up the things which are of divine right. They wish to seduce anyone; they supplanted Saul, the King chosen by the Lord, and Judas the Apostle; whence of the devil it is read, His food is chosen; and elsewhere, He will swallow up a river and not wonder, and he will have confidence that the Jordan may flow into his mouth. Therefore, most dear to me in the Lord, I strive so greatly to admonish you, that with all diligence you guard your hearts: for my counsel and solace will soon fail. Which heard, the Nuns, groaning, ask he foretells his death to be at hand; why he said such things, since they saw him especially sound and unharmed? To whom he too; I do not wish, daughters, that it be hidden from you; I do not wish to have it concealed from you. The time presses, the time is near, in the following week, the course of my labor being consummated, to the prize, destined to me from eternity, I shall come with happy step. After the holy women perceive this, struck with the inmost grief of heart, they begin to bathe their faces with copious weepings: whose tears and griefs the venerable man, unable to bear with the bowels of fatherly piety, went forth from them, leave being asked.
[57] But on the following day he began to labor with pain of the head; and he dies in the year 1142. on the seventh day he had himself led to the church, and set down before the Cross: where, when he was asked by the Sisters, that he would permit at least the little skins, which they had at their feet, to be spread under him, he was not willing even to hear it, forbidding that even after death any garment be changed for him. The following night at cock-crow the venerable Confessor of Christ, snatched from the prison of the flesh, migrated to the heavenly kingdoms, the Lord calling, in the year of the Lord's Incarnation one thousand one hundred and forty-second, but in the twelfth of the reign of the most Illustrious King Rogerius, in the fifth Indiction, on the seventh of the Kalends of July 25 June. To his obsequies a very great multitude of people ran: in which a certain woman came, A deaf woman is cured. who for much time had lost her hearing; she, trusting in his merits, put the finger of the same holy Man into her ear, and soon received her hearing. The most sacred body of this blessed Man, in the same church of holy Salvator of Goleto, where he died, was laid up under a marble altar, in a little chapel, on the left part of the church, The Body under an altar in his own Chapel erected a little after his death by Agnes, Abbess of the Nuns, and dedicated to the blessed f Man himself; and in the marble of each arch of the little chapel, for the perpetual memory of the matter, this epitaph is found incised.
In this work is enclosed a man of sanctity; Through whom for Christ the flowers of honesty are fragrant. with an Epitaph. He on earth was a worshiper of the Trinity, And a friend of the one true Deity. Ruling Cenobites, he is called William, Who now with those above rejoices crowned with laurel; Poor, he tamed his flesh, enriched by grace, Who now is found invited to the eternal feasts. Agnes the Abbess enlarged this Basilica, She herself places the sacred body in this tomb, Here the Offices of Praise are rendered, and the Mass; May God lead us to the rewards promised again. This excellent work Ursus labored, This the Craftsman prepared with his fingers. The People of this place may he who created it Lead by his merits to where he placed him.
NOTES OF D. P.
b Lelius,
in his Description of Monreale, indicates (and the same Jordanus affirms) that that monastery was alienated from the order, and handed over to the Monks of Monreale; who nonetheless still reverently keep some Relic of S. William himself: but the chief monastery of Nuns, by the name of S. Salvator, says Renda, (and it is still so called) the same S. William built at Palermo: whose habit of religion the most Serene Constantia, great-granddaughter of King Rogerius, received. Paulus Regius says she was a daughter. But these afterward passed to the black Habit, and the Rule of S. Basil.
CHAPTER VIII.
Miracles wrought after his death.
[58] In the year from the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ one thousand one hundred and eighty-fifth, In the year 1185 but in the forty-third year of his migration, in the month of April, what through the merits of the holy Man almighty God, looking down from on high, deigned by his ineffable piety to perform, we take care, out of zeal for charity, to intimate to all the orthodox, established in the bosom of Mother Church, who, devoutly imitating the virtues and examples of the Saints, strive to raise their minds to the sublime Kingdoms; that they may more ardently glow toward the love of our Creator, and with cheerful mind exultingly extol the mighty works of the Saints. A girl of Nusco, There was, then, a certain native of the city of Nusco, who, bereaved of both parents, had remained at home, with her uterine sister younger than herself, destitute of all solace. To her there was a certain aged grandmother, who, although poor and worn out by want, yet with maternal affection after the decease of the parents took both granddaughters into her care. But on a certain day that old woman exhorted the elder sister, that for the sake of carrying vegetables she should go to the vineyard. paralytic on one side, Who, when she had gone, and had bent herself to gather a vegetable, by her misfortune, a certain sickness coming on, which seemed like paralysis, suddenly she is so grievously and immoderately invaded, that we never recall anyone in our regions so strongly invaded by such an infirmity in a like manner. For the strength and freedom of the limbs of one whole side she so suddenly lost, that she by no means reckoned them her own. And so the trembling limbs of the right side, namely the shoulder, arm, hand, leg, foot, with grief she thus invigorated, as if she bore the heaviness of another's weight: but very often the sick woman, agitating with hand and foot her wretched joints, against her will struck her body impetuously with frequent blows; nor able to restrain herself at all therefrom, after a year of the disease, as if by another's fists and the blows of a foot she were too immoderately struck. The function of the tongue also she could not perform except with a more impeded and slower utterance. But for the space of one year and more, crying herself wretched with great wailing, she miserably bore her infirmity. The thresholds, at length, of certain Saints, that the Lord would have mercy on her, she had sought; nor at last could she obtain what she begged.
[59] But when the divine clemency, compassionating her misery, willed her to be repaired to the offices of her former soundness, through a twofold vision offered to her sister and to proclaim more clearly and more lucidly the mighty works of B. William; to her younger sister the mother appeared through a vision, saying; Daughter, is not thy sister pressed by a grievous sickness? To whom she answering, said; O mother, would that rather by divine prompting she had closed her last day, than thus with life as companion remained! And she; If you wish that she recover to the full her lost health, and obtain the vigor of her former limbs, let her go as quickly as possible to the tomb of S. William the Confessor of Christ; and there celebrate the watches one night with you, imploring the merits of the blessed Man, that by his pious intervention the divine Majesty would deign to have mercy on her; and let her fervently and humbly receive the Communion of the Lord's body and blood in his Church; and thus, by the prayers of the holy Confessor of the Lord, health being received, joyfully exulting you will return home with gladness. While she said these things, behold in the same vision there appeared to the same girl a certain man of wonderful stature, comely of countenance, saying to her; Rise, and going to my house visit it, and, God working, thy sister most healed and unharmed will return to her own with gladness: and she, Who art thou, Lord, who speakest such things to me? But he answering, said: I am William, the founder of that house. And saying these things, he disappeared from her eyes. The girl, therefore, rising in the morning, she is admonished to approach the Saint's body, narrated in order all that she had heard and seen in dreams from her mother, to her aged grandmother and her sick sister. The old woman, at length, hearing this, impatient of any delay, to the church of God, which is seen to be built in honor of S. Salvator Jesus Christ, where the body of B. William rests, with both granddaughters, namely the sick and the sound, came quickly; and according to the revelation of the dream, passing the night before his tomb, with prayers and tears, with sighs and sobs, ceased not to beseech the Saint of God, that by his intervening merits, the mercy of almighty God would deign to succor her. But about the middle hour of the night, and there receives entire health. the sick girl gave herself a little to sleep; and immediately awaking, perceived herself so restored to her former soundness, as if she had never even slightly been touched by the trouble of any infirmity. But morning come, humbly approaching the sacrosanct altar, with all reverence she received the Body and Blood of Christ through the hands of the Priest; and rejoicing and exulting, gave thanks to God and S. William, for the repair of her health; and thus safe and thankful, with the old woman and her sister, returned to her own with gladness.
[60] The devotion of the human generation, which persists in the worship of our faith and in acts of sanctity, After God, made man for man, goes forth so much the more widely in divine praises, the more frequently it is illustrated by the sacred virtues of the eternal almighty King. After, at length, the Son of Almighty God himself, Jesus Christ our Lord, at whose command all things bow, willed to bow himself for us, going forth from the supernal seat, piously entering the prison of our flesh, became poor, that he might by his virtue bring help to us the poor; became sick, that he might free us from sickness; gave himself to punishment, that he might loose us from the torment of punishments; it is seen to be worthy that we persist in his praises, and with all the effort of the mind ought assiduously to venerate his wonderful name; to whom it pleased not only to free the human race, held in chains under the tyrannical power by the pride of the First-formed; but indeed deigned to impart to it so great grace, that it became a partaker of the holy Angels; and whence the Angel, filled with the poison of pride, stripped of the garment of beauty and happy grace, cast down from the supernal Majesty, he associated B. William to himself in glory, deserved ruin; thither, redeemed by the gore of the innocent Lamb, and instructed by the example of his humility, it might be raised by grace. But to this fellowship of the Angels one is the more hastily raised, the more, cares being renounced, and the dignities of this world, all the pleasures of the flesh being spurned, he greatly desires to serve God with all his desires and all his strength. Of this fellowship and joy, then, the Confessor of the Lord William desiring to be made a partaker, with so great zeal, and so great devotion, from his boyish years strove to serve the Lord, that, affecting nothing of worldly things except slender food, he strove with all desire to imitate the footsteps of the holy Fathers. And since a happy beginning seeks a happy middle and end; the Confessor of the Lord led the happy beginning through the middle of his life to a blessed end; so that not only while his body lived, by the name of Christ invoked by very many, did he cast down the pride of the raging enemy, pouring his venom into the human race; but even after his death, very many held by the cruel snare of that venomous dragon, thirsting for the fall of the human race, he willed by the merits of his Confessor to free.
[61] In the one hundred and sixteenth year, then, of his migration, the miracle, which the Almighty Lord deigned to show by his merits, since the tongue of the flesh ought not to be silent of the praises of so great a Creator, it is worth the trouble that it should shine forth to all the faithful. There was at that time a certain woman of the Town of Paterno, b who, on account of human crimes, In the year 1258 a possessed woman of Paterno for several days had been so miserably wearied by a demon, that the wicked spirit did not permit her to eat or drink, nor by night and day for the space of one moment to rest. Her aspect, at length, was most terrible, her eyes bloody, suffused with the gall of bitterness, her face exhausted, and as if blackened with the darkness of smoke, terrible and disordered in the action of breathing and breathing again, made to all a spectacle and horrible to behold. And when her kinsmen and all her acquaintances beheld her so cruelly vexed by the unclean spirit, and heard the enemy of the human race crying with a terrible voice without intermission; trusting by the divine will in the prayers and merits of the Confessor of God William, led to his tomb, not without great effort they led the same wretched woman, bound with chains, to the monastery, where his most precious body is buried. But immediately, as she came to the sacred tomb of the holy Man, forthwith the demon began to cry through the mouth of the aforesaid woman, saying that he must be conquered by the merits of S. William, and, confounded and overcome, withdraw from the creature of God.
[62] But evening come, the Vigils of the Mother of God being celebrated, as had long been customary; the whole Convent, to obtain the mercy of Christ, after prayers poured forth all night for her, for so great a peril of the unhappy woman, with tears and sighs, the whole night prostrated itself in prayer: in which night, at length, how great things he did, and how great things that enemy of the human race, the ensnarer, said, it is not easy to declare. But morning rising, the divine office of the Mass, which on any Saturday, to the honor and glory of the said Virgin, is sung, being now begun; the iniquitous enemy, hoping to move the servants of God from their pious devotion, began to cry through the mouth of the very same woman, that the servant of the Lord William was not of such power
that he could, as he had said before, cast him out. And saying these things, immediately the power of the Most High God appeared; she sees the body of Christ during the Mass, for the woman, who before could not open her eyes, turning her head, beholding the image of the holy Father, approached it; and trembling began to kiss it very much; meanwhile, all wondering, that woman raised her eyes, beholding the most precious body of Christ, elevated in the hands of the Priest celebrating the office, by the divine hand utterly freed from the most wicked enemy: and spreading her hands to heaven, glad with joy she cried, saying, Let God be praised and glorified, and his name be blessed forever, for rightly I recognize and perceive this to be the body of him who for our salvation descended from heaven to the earth; willed to be incarnate, to die, and to rise again on the third day; who ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father, and is to come to judge the living and the dead; who also me, unhappy and miserable, by the prayers and merits of B. William the Confessor, and she professes herself freed. deigned to free from the hostile snare; whose name be blessed and exalted, unto the ages of ages. And saying these things, pouring forth tears for joy, she prostrated herself the whole day in prayer before the tomb of the holy Man: but the next day she confessed to a Priest, from whose hands with all desire she received the most precious body of Christ. But all, beholding so great and such a miracle, began with loud voices to praise the clemency of the Saviour, who deigned to work such things through his servant William; but she herself, exulting, returned to her own with huge joy, in health.
[63] A few days, meanwhile, afterward having elapsed, another arduous and notable miracle, by the prayers of the kindly Confessor William, the piously pious Lord willed to work; which to the praise and glory of his name, and for declaring the merits of the holy Man, according to the genius of my littleness, as grace shall be given me by the Giver of graces, I will by no means refuse to disclose to all the faithful. There was at that time of about twelve years a certain girl of Marano; c who, on account of want of worldly things, going out from the house of her mother, came to the Castle of Monticulus, d hoping there by some benefit of charity at least to drive away from herself the harshness of hunger. After a certain woman beheld her poverty too greatly depressed with the light of piety, breathed upon by the divine spirit, she took the same as a spiritual daughter into her care. But on a certain day, when, cheerful and unhurt, for the sake of washing, by the command of her spiritual Mother, to the river
by the command of her spiritual Mother, she proceeded after the accustomed manner; invaded by a demon, and felt no injury of her body; suddenly the spirit of wickedness, by the swelling of pride driven from heaven, who in the murky night of this air always lies in wait for human advancements, began so cruelly to vex her; that all who saw her, terrified with fear and admiration, knew not what they should do. On that very day, at length, that unhappy girl lost her whole side; and thus the organs of one part of her body seemed contracted, and also consumed of all humor, as if she had incurred a spasmodic sickness by a long stretch of time. And when very many beheld her so sharply ailing, and made hemiplegic, and molested by the spirit of pride, kindled with the ardor of piety and mercy; through the various Relics of the Saints, that to the so afflicted girl the supreme piety would deign to bestow mercy, they mercifully led the same wretched one.
[64] But when the grace of health was denied to the same wretched one, and in their hearts there was quick despair of the remedy of her liberation; the unhappy rumor came to the ears of her bodily mother, ignorant of the act of so great a calamity. Who when she had heard this, her face torn, and her garments rent, as quickly as she could ran forth, and the unhappy mother, as best she could, guarded her unhappy daughter, placed in so great a peril. And when the mother too had no confidence of the health of her daughter, she is comforted by the appearing Saint, and was utterly ignorant what she should do; on the same night the Confessor of the Lord William appeared through a vision to the girl, saying; Fear not, daughter, but rise as quickly as possible, and strive to visit my tomb, and thou shalt be freed from the torment of the demon and from all sickness. But morning come, what the girl had seen, rather by nod than by voice, she strove to declare to her mother. But after she came to the tomb of the servant of God, immediately the demon, crying through the mouth of the girl that he was wretched, said, that he ought to be expelled by the power of the holy Confessor; and that the girl, by the aid of that same Confessor William, was to be freed from all sickness. These things heard, the whole Convent of the Nuns prostrated itself with tears and prayers on the ground, and for the health of so unhappy a girl, with psalms, hymns, and canticles, ceased not at all to pray the divine clemency.
[65] Amid these things the demon cried through the mouth of the girl, saying; Why dost thou drive me out, Confessor William? Why dost thou drive me out? and before his tomb she is freed. and whither dost thou propose to lead me? And adding, Strip the Christian girl, and clothe her with the garments of your religion; and the garments which she wears, by me many times defiled, deliver to the fire; for I, like fire, am burned, and before the presence of William can no longer remain. But immediately, as this was done (wonderful thing!), the girl's throat began to swell, her eyes to be filled with gore, her lips and face all over to be blackened, deep sighs to emanate from her heart, and the symptoms of bitter death to emerge from all the organic members of the same. For indeed, when the aforesaid girl was placed in so huge a peril, and with spittle emitted corrupt and black blood; the mercy of the Saviour was not lacking to her: adjured by the prayers of the holy Confessor William, she was suddenly freed from the torment of the demon and from all contraction of her limbs and sickness. But all, beholding so great and such miracles, to the Lord and to S. William, with hands spread to heaven, filled with joy and admiration, with immense voices rendered praises and thanks. But the girl herself, together with the others coming with her, praising the mighty works of Jesus Christ, filled with happy gladness, returned to her own, to the praise and glory of our Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns God, through the infinite ages of ages. Amen.
NOTES OF D. P.
APPENDIX
On the two chief Convents.
William the Abbot, Founder of the Hermits of Monte Vergine, in Italy (S.)
THE AUTHOR BEING D. P.
§ I. On the beginning of the Order at Monte Vergine, its situation and older name from Virgil, and the first ten Abbots General.
[1] Leander Alberti, in his Description of Italy, rendered into Latin by Guilielmus Kyriander, page 410 among the Samnites, A description of the Mountain from Leander Alberti, thus describes the above-titled Mountain: To one proceeding along the right bank of the Sabato a river meets him, very deep and broad, from Monte Vergine, through the plain tending toward the Sabato. Monte Vergine is the most renowned in the whole Kingdom, and has a noble temple on its summit, of the Holy Virgin Mary, most glorious Queen of the Heavens, illustrious for miracles and sanctity, and full of innumerable Relics of the Saints: it being added that in the convent it is unlawful to eat flesh and milk-foods at all: when they are brought thither, they say it soon swarms with worms. Now to the place each year, on the feast day of Pentecost, an infinite multitude of peoples flocks, to visit the sacred shrines, and to venerate the Mother of God; just as in former times the neighboring nations frequented the temple of the Mother of the gods, and the beginning of the monastery. which was here; of which Antoninus makes mention in his Itinerary, describing the journey from Sulmona to Columna, in which he reckons first Equus-Tucicus, then Mater Magna the Great Mother. The temple of the Holy Virgin was founded by the Christians in beginnings of this kind. A certain pious man, William, when he had constituted himself in this place a very small dwelling, for leading the solitary life, and had now become known to the neighbors by the integrity and sanctity of his life; by their help he began gradually to demolish the temple of the malign demon, and to found this new one to the Mother of God, and dedicated it to the Virgin Mary, which so many ages before had been called of the Mother of the gods. But also, a convent being afterward added, he instituted a new mode of religious life, and called it the Sodality of the Brothers of Monte Vergine; which thereafter, he having so most holily departed from human affairs, grew.
[2] This very lofty mountain is divided from the Apennine, its scenography. and likewise from the other mountains, which it touches only at the roots. And several such also, so separated from the Apennine and of so great height, that they even surpass its very ridges, the Beneventan territory has. Again in the valley of the stream, which we said flows from Monte Vergine into the Sabato, are these: the town of Altavilla, and Mount Freddinus; and in the near vale the old city of Avellino, to whose diocese the whole mountain pertains; this, described by Leander, as far as it looks toward Benevento situated on the Sabato, declining from the North toward the East: but where the same mountain so looks toward the East that it turns somewhat toward the South, it exhibits a face more worthy of consideration, such as thou seest in the map here adjoined from Jordanus; where, besides the church and monastery, marked numbers 1 and 2, especially under numbers 5 and 6 are to be noted two chapels, as far as which it is permitted to carry flesh; what penalty has followed those doing otherwise, from Costo and others Jordanus pursues through several Chapters, of which it will be enough that only the titles be read here. Chap. XX. To one carrying any flesh to Monte Vergine, a great tempest suddenly came on. XXI. He who, incredulous, had carried and eaten the same there, in the descent of the mountain fell with his horse into a precipice, Punishments of those bringing flesh thither. with evident peril of life. XXII. To a Religious carrying such a thing came an abscess, in the same part of the body, beside which
the bodies of his daughters, in the aforesaid sacred monastery, before the altar dedicated to the Virgin, lie placed. The aforesaid Privileges King Alfonso, King Ferdinand, and other Kings approved: but last of all the most Christian King Charles V, Augustus Emperor of the Romans, confirmed and established them in the New Castle of Naples in 1536. And from Lucius III, Supreme Pontiff of the holy See, even to the present (says Renda) our Holy Father Gregory XIII, the aforesaid Religion remains illustrated with Privileges of Indulgences or exemptions.
[9] Thus far he in his Preface; who then in the sequel declares how, a few days almost from the funeral of the holy Founder, D. Albertus the Abbot General the succession of the Abbots General migrated to the Lord, and D. Robertus by the single consent of the Monks is elected Abbot III… He being dead, the IVth Abbot Joannes is elected by equal vote … to whom so great a concourse of men came for the reception of the Habit, that he resolved to magnify the monastery and the church, and these being magnified, to its Dedication, on the day of S. Martin in the year of the Lord 1182 he invited; and present were, D. Rogerius of Benevento, and Nicolaus of Salerno, Archbishops; the Bishops of Avellino, of S. Angelo dei Lombardi, of Montecorvino, under whom in the year 1182 the new church was dedicated, of Trivento, of Aversa, of Frequento, of S. Agata, of Sarno, of Telese, of Vico, of Ascoli, of Ferentino, of Volturara; the Abbots, of S. Benedict of Avellino, of S. Agata, and of S. Menna, and several other most religious men… After Joannes, while Daniel was elected the fifth Abbot, a possessed woman cured, in the year of the Lord 1185, and the Emperor Henry was at Bari… hearing that a woman from Petina came much oppressed by a demon, and, hastening to the sepulchre of the holy Man, while she touched it, was made whole; is moved with devotion of holy religion … But not much time after, from Jerusalem an image of the Virgin of great size, an icon of the Mother of God brought from the East, depicted as far as the breast on linen, by the hands of S. Luke, together with the bodies of the holy Sidrach, Misach, and Abdenago, the three Children, with great glory was offered, and sent to the sacred mountain of the Virgin, with no small cavalry and huge honor. But Daniel the Abbot, together with the Brothers, came to meet it through the mountains, and, fitting the Icon dedicated to the Virgin to the altar consecrated to the Virgin, at the time of the consecration he places the bodies of the Children in the high altar, and calls it the Emperor's chapel by its proper name.
[10] Thus was placed that Marian image, which, in the act of feeding her son with milk, [and the other being translated, that in which S. William had had himself painted at the feet of the Blessed Virgin.] the holy Founder had there deposited; concerning which image Jordanus writes these things on page 337: It is credible that it was painted in his very presence; since he wished himself to be vividly painted at her feet, as is even now seen, in a white habit with a monastic hood of the ancient manner, under the figure of one praying. But that one being brought from Constantinople, which was believed painted by S. Luke; the former was translated behind the sacristy, to the altar and chapel called of S. Virgin of the Childbirth, and honored there for many years; but when there, on account of the humidity of the place, it was found to be somewhat corrupted, it was carried into another more dry, which they call Bilancium, namely from the two wooden scales, to which there by vow are hung whoever, for their liberation, offer a measure of wheat equal to their body or another quantity of oblation (concerning which rite see what was said at the Life of S. Hubert of Bretigny in Gaul, hitherto wonderfully preserved. on the 30th of May). In this Chapel, then, was found that ancient image, when in the year 1629 the church collapsed, so that it seems to have been translated hither not without special providence of God, willing to preserve that effigy of venerable antiquity with the memory of the holy Founder, which, if it had remained in the chapel of the Childbirth, would have been wholly broken to pieces; for there the chief ruin had fallen. But, because not even that place lacked humidity, I took care in the year 1635, the fifth of my Generalate, that it be removed to the Novitiate, a place wholly immune from such peril. When I had read such things in Jordanus, I took care that his delineation be sought from him who is now General of the Order; and from it I presently represent, engraved on copper, the effigy of the Blessed one. But to his humility and lowliness of mind I believe it pertains, that on a tablet large enough, and representing the Mother of God of just stature, he willed himself to be painted scarcely as far as the knees, and so small, that with respect to the whole tablet, he occupies only a ninth part of it, and that the lowest.
[11] Daniel, moreover, died in the year 1196, and to him succeeded the sixth Abbot Gabriel; to whom soon Celestine III, professing to cleave to the footsteps of his predecessors Alexander III and likewise Lucius III, sent a most ample Bull of confirmed and augmented Privileges, fortified with the subscriptions of thirteen Cardinals: The Privileges of Celestine III where all and each of the possessions of the sacred mountain, wheresoever located, very many indeed, are seen enumerated. In that Bull this is special, that it is noted given by the hand of Gentius, Cardinal Deacon of S. Lucia in Orthea, Chamberlain of the Lord Pope, in place of the Librarian: and since it was given in the year 1197, on the 2nd of the Nones of November 4 November, I read the Indiction wrongly transcribed as III, which should have been noted I, begun from September. As wrongly for "Presbyter" is written "Pater," from the letters "Pr." prefixed to the Cardinalitial title: wrongly also are the bare names of the Cardinal Deacons expressed without title; and in the names themselves the scribe erred by more than one place, which are to be imputed to the excessive antiquity of the original, so great that it could not conveniently be read. This Bull being reported, Renda proceeds to recount the Abbots General, and says: D. Gabriel being dead, the seventh elected was Paschasius, whose body is found among the bodies of the Saints in the Sanctuary: (yet he does not seem to have a special cult) after whose death D. Gabriel, the second of that name, succeeded as the VIIIth Abbot; and he being dead, S. Donatus, the IXth Abbot in the year 1208; who with great honor in the city of Acerno is venerated and worshiped by the citizens of that city. and of the Emperor Frederick, (I should wish to know on what day) The Tenth Abbot was Joannes, in whose time a lame little boy, while limping he pursued the grazing swine, lest they should bring damage to the fields, turned himself with the greatest devotion to the prayers of the most holy William; who, healed, returned to his home: and in the evening, when he was asked by his own, he answered that by the prayers of the most holy William he was sound. But to this tenth Abbot Joannes, by the Emperor Frederick, as King of Sicily and of Naples joined to it and of other Provinces in Italy, two illustrious Privileges were given; one given at S. Germano, at the foot of Monte Cassino, in the year 1220, in the month of December of the 9th Indiction, in the 1st year of his Empire, the 22nd of the Kingdom of Sicily; and the other given at Melfi, in the year 1224 in the month of February, in the 12th Indiction, which can be read in Renda.
§. II. On the Goleto monastery of both sexes, called first of S. Salvator, now of S. William.
[12] After in the year 1127, the Mount of the first Foundation being dismissed, At Goleto the Saint is said to have clothed up to 500 Nuns, and Albertus being instituted there as Abbot in his stead, the Saint began to undertake various things here and there, and had founded the convent of Mount Cuneatum; he lived for a while as a solitary in the Compsa valley, and at length in the year 1130 took Counsel, that he would now profit not only men, as hitherto, but also women, by founding a convent for this sex too. Eagerly the foremost men helping, and rejoicing to promote the building of a place in which they themselves could see their daughters and kinswomen placed under so religious a discipline; the foundation of such a monastery so succeeded, that Renda says on page 7 that, the monastery being constituted, so great a multitude of women flocked, that in a short time it received almost five hundred; and gathered no small number of men, to whom he delivered the monastic Habit. But the monastery was of such size, that even now a most celebrated and very great city seems from afar, with a circuit of one mile, as by the vestiges appears. But from those very vestiges Jordanus proves on page 416, and is believed to have had 200 at once, that not all five hundred dwelt there together (because the place, however ample, could not hold so great a number) but, according to the tradition of the elders, up to two hundred were there at once, with whom at least thirty Monks were always present; in a dwelling, however, not one, but contiguous; as the use of the Order of S. Salvator bears, instituted, Christ commanding through S. Bridget, in the 14th century in Sweden; which I add, lest anyone be able to doubt that the same author of the same counsel was to S. William. But this granted, successively 500, over a decade and more up to five hundred could have been successively received there, nothing prohibits us to believe; in such a way, however, that many of them, on account of the supreme rigor of life, quickly consummated their course; not a few also were transferred elsewhere to form other monasteries of their sex, nor in fewer did the constancy of first either health or will fail in the very novitiate, so that they had to be dismissed before profession; and so in the assumed Habit the number of those present never exceeded two hundred.
[13] Distant from Monte Vergine, by almost twenty miles, is the place once called Goleto, from the abundance of "guliae," that is (if I rightly interpret the word) of rushes, a great monastery being built there; growing there more copiously in the vale, a few miles from the Episcopal city of Nusco. Here William may have built buildings somehow capacious, yet in the process of time that they were manifoldly augmented we can in no way doubt: but the form of all together Jordanus thus describes on page 417, so that it appears that, under the form of one fabric, there were as it were two monasteries, in which men dwelt apart from women. That this may be better grasped, it pleases to render his Italian words themselves into Latin. At the beginning, says he, where the Monks dwelt apart from the Nuns, there met one a great frontispiece of the work toward the South, of which today the greater gate remains, through which was the entrance into a spacious courtyard. Around this in the lower order were seen disposed various offices, but the upper part served as the dormitory and chambers both of the Monks and of the Lay-brothers dwelling there. The right side also of the same courtyard the cemetery occupied, covered with a beautiful vault; which vault was supported by various stone columns, elegantly enough wrought, around the chief wall of the fabric itself. From these two others, larger, with their capitals sculptured in the ancient manner, placed in the middle of the rest, sustain the chief weight of the overlying vault; as also two others like them, standing perpendicularly upon the former, sustain the vault of the oratory set over the cemetery, concerning which this notable miracle is narrated.
[14] The plan of the work required that those columns should much exceed the size of the others; and 4 columns, brought by a great miracle, nor was it possible to find such in the near quarries, whence the rest were sought. The Saint, therefore, took care that there be prepared four leagues thence as many as were necessary. But since they were so great, and to be drawn over the rough and abrupt of the mountain roads; it happened that, several pairs of oxen being applied to drawing them, the number being several times increased, either
profited nothing, or so little, that no hope seemed of conveying such vast stones whither it was needful. When this was reported to the holy Father, and he, coming to the place, had considered all things; by single yokes of oxen: he judged that it must be done not by strength, but by prayers: to which when he had withdrawn himself from the crowd, with great faith he returned to the same place, and commanded that to each wagon a single yoke of oxen be applied, which he promised would suffice for the work. And they sufficed; after, namely, the sign of the Cross being made, the animals being lightly impelled by the point of the staff on which he leaned, he had ordered them to proceed in the name of God. Thus the first, thus the three other columns were conveyed; as easily as if they had been small fragments of stones; with much wonder of all who were present, or met the proceeding animals, and spread the fame of the miracle in every direction: which thing vehemently excited the alacrity both of the neighbors, to contribute the expenses; and of the workmen, to undertake generously any difficult things. But there remains a memory of the deed both in this, that the place itself, called Grammaticus from its former possessor, was on that account given to the monastery; and in the columns themselves, while those who come from abroad, or enter the aforesaid cemetery or oratory, are wont first to kiss them as it were as Relics, and to sanctify their prayer-beads by the touch of them.
[15] Round about that cemetery were placed in order many stone tombs, variously wrought, full of blessed earth, in which only the Nuns were buried: but on one side was prepared a place of fitting capacity, The Cemetery of the Nuns. where were laid up the bones of those reverend Mothers, after, the flesh being consumed, they had been raised from the earth. And so there at present one may see their bones and many skulls, and these so entire, white, and sweet-smelling, that they are of great admiration to those handling them, as not unfittingly arguing that this is a sign of the beatitude which the souls enjoy. In the same cemetery there were, as still there are, two gates: one corresponded and corresponds to the lower church, from which through it the Monks entered into the cemetery, The rite of burying them there, about to recite Masses or Offices for the dead; or to sing the accustomed Responsory, "Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death," with the sprinkling of holy water; as is used on single weeks in the Order, and also at the burial of the Nuns, after the office of the obsequies celebrated in the church. The other gate corresponded to the dwelling of the Nuns, who carried as far as it the bodies of their dead, there to be received by the Monks, about to carry them into the church, and, the ceremonies there finished, to place them within the aforesaid tombs. But above the cemetery itself there was, and is now, what I said, an oratory, with two altars; to which from the dormitory of the Monks there was access on the level.
[16] Opposite the greater gate the aforesaid courtyard proceeded as far as the wall of the lower church, the form of the church not the front but the side wall; in which wall there was a gate leading into the church: and before this gate a small atrium rose up like a podium, raised by several steps, and covered with a vault. But to those entering by this, there appeared on the left the Choir of the Nuns, suspended high and commensurate with the breadth of the church, into which a very large round window poured light: on the right the baptismal font, of which only vestiges remain; and in the middle a most beautiful altar of stones of elegant sculpture; at whose right stood the altar of our most holy Lady; but on the left a chapel, erected for preserving the body of S. William. Beyond the church and the cemetery one may see to the East, North, and South, the vestiges of several very large buildings, and of the monastery of the Virgins now in ruins, which show that there were the dormitories, cloisters, chapter-house, refectory, novitiate, and other offices with a garden and springs fit for the uses of the Nuns. Moreover, before one came to the aforesaid greater gate, there met one a hamlet or village of several dwellings, as the indications present themselves, for the use of those seculars who ministered to both the Congregation of the Monks and of the Nuns, or cultivated the land; and it is even today called, though destroyed, with a tower erected in the year 1154. the Hamlet of S. William. Within the dwelling itself, moreover, of the Nuns, in the year 1154, a very high and most fortified tower was built; where they had their bells, and it served at once for their recreation and for defense, if ever (as often happened in that open plain in time of wars) some fear or hostile incursion compelled it. There were, therefore, two dwellings, but the monastery seemed as one, on account of the contiguity and the revenues and possessions common to the Monks and Nuns.
[17] And to the Monks indeed their founder had no doubt given the same habit which he had instituted to be worn on Monte Vergine, What was the habit there of these and of the Monks? and which he himself always used, namely a tunic, scapular, hood, and cloak of wool, all of white color, as now; although in those beginnings the cloth was a little ruder and coarser: but the habit of the Nuns also was itself wholly white, as one may know from the ancient pictures, which even now survive in the monastery; namely a tunic, which a white leather girdle bound, and over the tunic a scapular, then a wimple of finer linen cloth, with which the head and neck were wrapped; and over it a black veil. But when processions were led through the monastery, or on the greater feasts they came to the choir, or all communicated together, or on some occasion there was public going forth; they were besides covered with an oblong pall, of cloth thinner than the tunic, such as the Knights of the Orders of S. James and Alcantara use at their public functions. Finally, their undergarments were always of wool, the little bed of straw, the coverlets too of nothing but wool.
[18] Moreover from the beginning of its foundation, it was an Abbatial monastery; and both the Abbot and the Abbess enjoyed the prerogatives and rights belonging to such a title. But the Abbess used the pastoral staff; the Abbot also the mitre, as now too the same uses it: he also superintended the Nuns, who were never subject to Bishops, but together with the Monks were subject to the Abbot General, but he to the one Roman Pontiff alone. And when the built hamlet began to be frequented by colonists, these too, as also all the servants, in temporal and spiritual things lay under the jurisdiction of the Abbot; and by that title Kings and the Ministers of Kings are found, in exacting subsidies in time of wars, to have written to the Abbot himself, The Nuns being extinct there as to the other Barons of the Kingdom. To such great wealth also the monastery grew, that the sum of the annual revenue is found to have exceeded twenty thousand ducats, the greater part of which proceeded from lands and rights given to the church, but many of these were gradually separated from the monastery, after, several hundreds of years from the foundation having passed, the Nuns withdrew thence, whose safety in that level solitude was not sufficiently provided for, the place now has only 12 Monks. and the monastery itself was given in commendam. For hence partly alienated by the Commendatories, partly applied to Bishoprics, partly ceded to the Hospital of the Annunciation of Naples, are most of the rights and goods. Very few, however, still survive in the district of Venusium, Melfi, Ripacandida, Minervino, and Montella, from which, and from the territory which lies around the monastery, and added to it by the industry of the cultivators from animals, there proceed about eight hundred ducats annually, whence about twelve Monks, with the ministry necessary to them, are sustained.
[19] Thus far Jordanus in book 2, chapter 19, where it will be permitted from the public instruments to learn the names of the Churches once subject to the monastery, and the bounds of the territory attributed to the monastery; which once, for cutting off lawsuits, it pleased to mark also with stones, signed S. G., and meaning the same as Salvator of Goleto, and several other things pertaining to the same. It would assuredly have been worth the trouble that of the Goleto monastery too, the form both of it standing and the ruins of it overthrown, sculptured on a tablet, be preserved for the memory of posterity, to serve even at that time when the buildings still standing shall have collapsed: but this I leave to the care of those who shall pursue the History of the Order.