"St. Cyrus and St. John appeared to a person suffering from gout, and bade him take a little oil in a small ampulla from the lamp that burnt before the image of the Saviour, in the great tetrapyle at Alexandria, and anoint his feet with it."
"Similar stories are found in Western writers. Thus Nicetius of Lyons, by means of the oil of the lamp which burnt daily at his sepulchre, restored sight to the blind, drove demons from bodies possessed, restored soundness to shrunken limbs," etc.
"An epileptic was cured by oil from the lamp that burnt night and day at the tomb of St. Severin."
"It was revealed to a blind woman, that oil from the lamp of St. Geneviève would restore her sight, if the warden of the church were to anoint her with it. A week after she brought a blind man, who was healed in the same manner."[26]
At the time of Gregory of Tours, application was made of sainted reliquaries as a remedy against the devil and his demons. Gregory narrates the miraculous efficacy of a small pellet of wax, taken from the tomb of St. Martin, in extinguishing an incendiary fire started by his Satanic majesty, which was instigated by malicious envy, because this omnipotent talisman was in the custody of an ecclesiastic! This Turonese bishop records many instances of cures being effected at Martin's tomb. He himself was relieved of severe pains in the head by touching the disordered spot with the sombre pall of St. Martin's sepulchre. This remedy was applied on three different occasions with equal success. Once he was cured of an attack of mortal dysentery by simply dissolving into a glass of water a pinch of dust scraped from the tomb of St. Martin and drinking the strange concoction. At another time, his tongue having become swollen and tumefied, it was restored to its natural size and condition by licking the railing of the tomb of this saint. He knew of others who had been equally successful. An archdeacon, named Leonastes had sight restored to his blind eyes at the tomb of St. Martin, but unfortunately the fact that he later applied to an Israelitish physician caused his infirmity to return. Even a toothache was cured by St. Martin's relics.
The following is an apostrophe to the relics of St. Martin by Bishop Gregory: "Oh ineffable theriac! ineffable pigment! admirable antidote! celestial purge! superior to all drugs of the faculty! sweeter than aromatics! stronger than unguents together; thou cleanest the stomach like scammony, the lungs like hyssop, thou purgest the head like pyre-thrig!"[27]
From the end of the fifth century the exercise of the medical art was almost exclusively appropriated by cloisters and monasteries, whose occupants boldly vended the miraculous remedial properties of relics, chrism, baptismal fluids, holy oil, rosy crosses, etc., as of unquestioned virtue. In these early days living saints seem to have rivalled dead ones in their power over diseases, but of these we shall speak in a later chapter.
A renewed interest sprang up when pilgrims began to return from their journeys to Palestine, bringing with them, as was natural, some souvenirs of their sojourn. A most interesting quotation from Mackay reveals the condition of these times. "The first pilgrims to the Holy Land brought back to Europe thousands of apocryphal relics, in the purchase of which they had expended all their store. The greatest favorite was the wood of the true cross, which, like the oil of the widow, never diminished. It is generally asserted, in the traditions of the Romish Church, that the Empress Helen, the mother of Constantine the Great, first discovered the veritable 'true cross' in her pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The Emperor Theodosius made a present of the greater part of it to St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, by whom it was studded with precious stones and deposited in the principal church of that city. It was carried away by the Huns, by whom it was burnt, after they had extracted the valuable jewels it contained. Fragments, purporting to have been cut from it, were, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, to be found in almost every church in Europe, and would, if collected together in one place, have been almost sufficient to have built a cathedral. Happy was the sinner who could get a sight of one of them; happier he who possessed one! To obtain them the greatest dangers were cheerfully braved. They were thought to preserve from all evils and to cure the most inveterate diseases. Annual pilgrimages were made to the shrines that contained them and considerable revenues collected from the devotees.
"Next in renown were those precious relics, the tears of the Saviour. By whom and in what manner they were preserved, the pilgrim did not enquire. Their genuineness was vouched by the Christians of the Holy Land, and that was sufficient. Tears of the Virgin Mary, and tears of St. Peter, were also to be had, carefully enclosed in little caskets, which the pious might wear in their bosoms. After the tears, the next most precious relics were drops of the blood of Jesus and the martyrs, and the milk of the Virgin Mary. Hair and toe-nails were also in great repute, and were sold at extravagant prices. Thousands of pilgrims annually visited Palestine in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, to purchase pretended relics for the home market. The majority of them had no other means of subsistence than the profits thus obtained. Many a nail, cut from the filthy foot of some unscrupulous ecclesiastic, was sold at a diamond's price, within six months after its severance from its parent toe, upon the supposition that it had once belonged to a saint or an apostle. Peter's toes were uncommonly prolific, for there were nails enough in Europe, at the time of the Council of Clermont, to have filled a sack, all of which were devoutly believed to have grown on the sacred feet of that great apostle. Some of them are still shown in the cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle. The pious come from a distance of a hundred German miles to feast their eyes upon them."[28]