About the year 1090, says Orderic, one Stephen, the chanter of the monastery of Venosa in the city of Angers, went to Apulia, with the express sanction of the Lord Natalis, his abbot, divested himself of the monastic habit, and lived as a clerk at Bari, where he became familiar with the sacristans of the church. At length, watching his opportunity, he secretly purloined an arm of St. Nicholas, which, set in silver, was kept outside the shrine for the purpose of giving the benediction to the people. He then attempted to withdraw into France, that he might enrich his own monastery with the precious treasure. The people of Bari, however, soon discovered their loss, and guarded all the avenues to prevent the thief’s escape. Nevertheless, Stephen reached Venosa safely, where he passed the winter in great alarm, trying to conceal himself. He then fell into great poverty, and was compelled to detach the silver from the holy relic and apply it for his support. Meanwhile, the noise of the robbery of the arm of St. Nicholas spread through the whole of Italy and Sicily, and at last some one recognised the silver covering. The monks heard of this, and Erembert, an active monk, suddenly presented himself and demanded from the sick man with great vehemence the arm of St. Nicholas. The sick man, perceiving he was detected, and not knowing where to turn, pale and trembling, produced the precious relic. The resolute monk joyfully seized it, and carried it to the abbey of the Holy Trinity, the other monks and citizens returning thanks to God to this day. St. Nicholas there miraculously succoured all who implored his aid.
A CATHOLIC DEFENDING HIS RELICS.
Sir Thomas More, contemporary of Luther, says: “Luther wisheth in a sermon of his that he had in his hand all the pieces of the holy cross, and saith that, if he so had, he would throw them there as never sun should shine on them. And for what worshipful reason would the wretch do such villainy to the cross of Christ? Because, as he saith, that there is so much gold now bestowed about the garnishing of the pieces of the cross that there is none left for poor folk. Is not this an high reason? As though all the gold that is now bestowed about the pieces of the holy cross would not have failed to have been given to poor men, if they had not been bestowed about the garnishing of the cross. And as though there were nothing but that is bestowed about Christ’s cross! How small a portion, ween we, were the gold about all the pieces of Christ’s cross, if it were compared with the gold that is quite cast away about the gilting of knives, swords, spurs, arras, and painted cloths; and (as though these things could not consume gold fast enough) the gilding of posts and whole roofs, not only in the palaces of princes and great prelates, but also many righteous men’s houses. And yet among all these things could Luther spy no gold that grievously glittered in his bleared eyes, but only about the cross of Christ!”
FORGERY OF SAINTS’ RELICS.
Fuller, in his “Church History,” observes as follows: “The pretended causes of miracles are generally reducible to these two heads: (1) Saints’ relics; (2) saints’ images. How much forgery there is in the first of these is generally known, so many pieces being pretended of Christ’s cross as would load a great ship. But amongst all of them commend me to the cross at the priory of Benedictines at Bromehead in Norfolk, the legend whereof deserveth to be inserted. Queen Helen, they say, finding the cross of Christ at Jerusalem, divided it into nine parts, according to the nine orders of angels. Of one of these (most besprinkled with Christ’s blood) she made a little cross, and, putting it into a box adorned with precious stones, bestowed it on Constantine her son. This relic was kept by his successors until Baldwin, Emperor of Greece, fortunate so long as he carried it about him, but slain in fight when forgetting the same: after whose death Hugh, his chaplain, born in Norfolk, and who constantly said prayers before the cross, stole it away box and all, brought it into England, and bestowed it on Brome Holme in Norfolk. It seems there is no felony in such wares, but ‘catch who catch may’; yea, such sacrilege is supererogation. By this cross thirty-nine dead men are said to be raised to life, and nineteen blind men restored to their sight. It seems such merchants trade much in odd numbers, which best fasteneth the fancies of folk; whilst the smoothness of even numbers makes them slip the sooner out of men’s memories. Chemnitius affirmeth from the mouth of a grave author that the teeth of St. Apollonia being conceived effectual to cure the toothache in the reign of Edward VI. (when many ignorant people in England relied on that receipt to carry one of her teeth about them), the King gave command in extirpation of superstition that all her teeth should be brought in to a public officer deputed for that purpose; and they filled a tun therewith. Were her stomach proportionable to her teeth, a county could scarcely afford her a meal’s meat. The English nuns at Lisbon do pretend that they have both the arms of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury; and yet Pope Paul III., in a public Bull set down by Sanders, doth pitifully complain of the cruelty of King Henry VIII. for causing the bones of Becket to be burned and the ashes scattered to the wind, the solemnity whereof is recorded in our chronicles. And how his arms could escape that bonfire is to me incredible!”
HOW TO FLATTER A RELIC WORSHIPPER.
The belief in the efficacy of saints’ relics to work miracles was so general in the ninth century that at last monks and bishops aspired also in their own lifetime to imitate this wonder-working power. A monk who was credited in his lifetime as a miracle worker begged that his brethren would not bury his body in the cloister, for that after his death the crowds of people coming to be cured of their diseases there would be too troublesome to them all. Another monk of St. Gall, being anxious to ingratiate himself with his bishop and the lord of the manor, bethought himself of the following expedient: He one day entrapped a fox without injuring it, and then carried it as a present to Bishop Recko. The bishop, after admiring the creature, expressed his wonder how the monk could have caught it without doing it any injury, whereupon the monk replied, “Oh, I can explain that. When I saw the fox in full chase, I cried out to it, ‘In the name of Lord Recko, stop and be still!’ The fox at once on hearing the name stood stockstill till I seized him, and I thought it due to your lordship to bring it as an offering.” The bishop was so pleased at this efficacious appliance of his own reputation for sanctity that he became a warm patron thenceforth of the artful ways of relic hunters.
AN EMPRESS BEGGING FOR RELICS.
The Empress Constantina asked of St. Gregory the head of St. Paul or some part of his body to put in the church which they were building at Constantinople in honour of that apostle. Gregory sent this answer: “You ask of me what I dare not and cannot do. For the bodies of the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul are so formidable by their miracles that none can approach them, even to pray, without being seized with great terror. My predecessor, having attempted to change a silver ornament which was over the body of St. Peter, though at the distance of fifteen feet, had a frightful vision. I myself wanted to repair something near the body of St. Paul, and we were obliged to dig near the sepulchre. The superior of the place found some bones which yet did not touch the sepulchre, and moved them to another place. After having seen a terrible apparition he died suddenly. So when some monks assisted in repairs near the body of St. Lawrence, though they did not touch the body, they died within ten days. Know then, madam, that when the Romans give any relics of saints they never touch the bodies; they only put in a box a piece of linen, which they place near the holy body. Then it is withdrawn and shut up in the church which is to be dedicated, and then as many miracles are wrought by it as if the body itself were there. In the time of St. Leo some Greeks doubting of the value of such relics, he called for a pair of scissors and cut the linen, and blood issued out, as our ancestors assure us. But not to frustrate your pious desire, I will send you some portion of the chains which St. Paul wore, and which work many miracles, if, however, I be able to file off any. These filings are often begged. And the bishop applies the file; and sometimes he immediately gets the filings; at other times he labours in vain.”