Bruno, with six companions, established the famous Grand Chartreuse in a rocky wilderness, near Grenoble, in France, separated from the rest of the world by a chain of wild mountains, which are covered with ice and snow for two-thirds of the year.
Until the time of Guigo (1137), the Grand Chartreuse was governed by unwritten rules. Thirteen monks only were permitted to live together, and sixteen converts in the huts at the foot of the hill. The policy of this monastery was at first opposed to all connection with other monasteries. But applications for admission were so numerous that colonies were sent out in various directions, all subject to the mother house. The Carthusians differed in many respects from other orders. The rules of Dom Guigo indicate that the chief aim was to preclude the monks from intercourse with the world, and largely with each other, for each monk had separate apartments, cooked his own food, and so rarely met with his brethren, that he was practically a hermit. The clothing consisted of a rough hair shirt, worn next the skin, a white cassock over it, and, when they went out, a black robe. Fasting was observed at least three days a week, and meat was strictly forbidden. Respecting contact with women Dom Guigo says: "Under no circumstances whatever do we allow women to set foot within our precincts, knowing as we do that neither wise man, nor prophet, nor judge, nor the entertainer of God, nor the sons of God, nor the first created of mankind, fashioned by God's own hands, could escape the wiles and deceits of women."
Blistering and bleeding, as well as fasting, were employed to control evil impulses. On the whole, the austerities were as severe as human nature in that wild and cold region could endure. Yet the prosperity that rewarded the piety and labors of the Carthusian monks proved more than a match for their rigorous discipline, and in the middle of the thirteenth century we read charges of laxity and disorder.
The Carthusians settled in England in the twelfth century, and had a famous monastery in London, since called the Charterhouse. The order was in many respects the most successful attempt at reform, but as has been said, "the whole order, and each individual member, is like a petrifaction from the Middle Ages." Owing to its extremely solitary ideal and its severe discipline, it was unfitted to secure extensive control, or to gain a permanent influence upon the rapidly-developing European nations. Its chief contributions to modern civilization were made by the gift of noble men who passed from the seclusion of the cell into the active life of the world, thus practically proving that the monks' greatest usefulness was attained when loyalty to their vows yielded to a broader ideal of Christian character and service.
Thus the months passed into years and the years into centuries. Man was slowly working out his salvation. Painfully, laboriously he emerged out of barbarism into the lower forms of civilization; wearily he trudged on his way toward the universal kingdom of righteousness and peace.
There were many other attempts at reform which may not even be mentioned, but one character deserves brief consideration,--Bernard of Clairvaux,--the fairest flower of those corrupt days. The order to which he belonged was the Cistercians, so named because their mother house was at Citeaux (Latin, Cistercium), in France. Its members are sometimes called the "White Monks," because of their white tunics. Their buildings, with their bare walls and low rafters, were a rebuke to the splendid edifices of the richer orders. Austere simplicity characterized their churches, liturgy and habits. Gorgeousness in decoration and ostentation in public services were carefully avoided. They used no pictures, stained glass or images. Once a week they flogged their sinful bodies. Only four hours' sleep was allowed. Seeking out the wildest spots and most rugged peaks they built their retreats, beautiful in their simplicity and furnishing some of the finest examples of monastic architecture. The order spread into England, where the first Cistercians were characterized by devoutness and poverty. After a while the hand of fate wrote of them as it had of so many, "none were more greedy in adding farm to farm; none less scrupulous in obtaining grants of land from wealthy patrons." In general, the order was no better and no worse than the rest, but its chief glory is derived from the luster that was shed upon it by Bernard.
This illustrious counselor of kings and Catholic saint was born in Burgundy in 1091. When about twenty years of age he entered the monastery at Citeaux with five of his brothers. His genius might have secured ecclesiastical preferment, but he chose to dig ditches, plant fields and govern a monastery. He entered the cloister at Citeaux because the monks were few and poor, and when it became crowded because of his fame, and its rule became lax because of the crowds, he left the cloister to found a home of his own. The abbot selected twelve monks, following the number of apostles, and at their head placed young Bernard. He led the twelve to the valley of Wormwood, and there, in a cheerless forest, he established the monastery of Clairvaux, or Clear Valley. His rule was fiercely severe because he himself loved hardships and rough fare. "It in no way befits religion," he writes, "to seek remedies for the body, nor is it good for health either. You may now and then take some cheap herb,--such as poor men may,--and this is done sometimes. But to buy drugs, to hunt up doctors, to take doses, is unbecoming to religion and hostile to purity." His success in winning men to the monastic life was almost phenomenal. It was said that "mothers hid their sons, wives their husbands, and companions their friends, lest they be persuaded by his eloquent message to enter the cloister." "He was avoided like a plague," says one.
Bernard's monks changed the whole face of the country by felling trees and tilling the ground. Their spiritual power rid the valley of Wormwood of its robbers, and the district grew rich and prosperous. Thus Bernard became the most famous man of his time. He was the arbiter in papal elections, the judge in temporal quarrels, the healer of schisms and a powerful preacher of the crusades. He was the embodiment of all that was best in the thought of his age. His weaknesses and faults may largely be explained by the fact that no man can rise entirely above the spirit of his times and absolutely free himself from all pernicious tendencies. "As an advocate for the rights of the church, for the immunities of the clergy, no less than for the great interests of morality, he was fierce, intractable, unforgiving, haughty and tyrannical." There was, however, no note of insincerity in his work or writings, and no tinge of hypocrisy in fervent zeal. He was brave, honest and pure; controlled always by a consuming passion for the moral welfare of the people.