Alcuin (who died 804), when a boy of eleven and devoted to the church, was one night sent by the schoolmaster of the monastery at the request of a lay brother who was left alone in charge of the building to go up and sleep there that night as some company to the brother. They retired to rest; and when it was about cock-crowing, they were awoke by the signal for service. The rustic monk only turned in his bed, and went to sleep again. Not so Alcuin, who soon perceived that the room was full of demons. They surrounded the bed of the sleeping monk, and cried, “You sleep well, brother!” He at once awoke, and they called out, “Why do you alone lie snoring here, while all your brethren are watching in the church?” And they belaboured him heavily as a warning. Meanwhile Alcuin lay trembling under the impression that his turn would come next, and ejaculated to himself that if he were only delivered he would never again love Virgil more than the melody of Psalms. The demons, after punishing the monk, then looked about, and found the boy completely covered up in his bedclothes, panting and almost senseless. On seeing himself discovered, he burst into tears and screamed, whereupon his avengers consulted together, and after a little resolved that they would not beat him, but would turn up the clothes at the foot of the bed and cut his corns, by way of making him remember his promise. The clothes were no sooner touched than Alcuin jumped up, crossed himself, and sang the 12th Psalm with all his might; the demons thereupon vanished, and he and his companion set off to church for safety.
AN ABBOT LECTURING HIS MONKS AGAINST IDLENESS (A.D. 1040).
Theodoric, abbot of St. Evroult, in Normandy, about 1040 used to lecture his monks and warn them against idleness, and told them this story: “There was a monk in a certain monastery who was guilty of many transgressions against its rules; but he was a transcriber; and being devoted to that work, he of his own accord wrote out an enormous volume of the Divine law. After his death his soul was brought before the tribunal of the just Judge for judgment. And when the evil spirits sharply accused him, and brought forward his innumerable crimes, the holy angels on the other hand showed the book which that monk had written in the house of God, and counted up the letters of that enormous volume as a set-off against the like number of sins. At length the letters had a majority of only one, against which, however, the demons in vain attempted to object any sin. The clemency of the Judge therefore spared the monk, commanded his soul to return to his body, and mercifully granted him space for reformation of his life. Frequently think of this, dear brethren; cleanse your hearts from vain and noxious desires; constantly offer the sacrifice of the works of your hands to the Lord God. Shun idleness with all your power. Frequently consider that only one devil tempts a monk who is employed in any good occupation, while a thousand devils attack him who is idle. Pray, read, chant, write, and employ yourselves, and wisely arm yourselves against the temptations of evil spirits.”
THE WAR OF THE TWO ABBOTS (A.D. 1077).
At the critical epoch when the Emperor and Pope were at war, two abbots living twenty miles apart took opposite sides. The monastery of St. Gall, on Lake Constance, founded about 650, was ruled about 1077 by Ulric of Eppinstein as abbot, who took the side of the Emperor; while Eckard, abbot of Reichnau, took the side of the Pope. Ulric was a man of polished manners, versed in the ways of the world, as fit to lead an army as to wield the crosier, of great wealth, and with a host of retainers. He was a little king, at the head of the richest abbey in Europe. The monastery was, however, exposed, being merely the centre of a large village; while Reichnau was on an island, with strong fortifications and safe from attack. For fifteen years the two monasteries were at feud, each seeking occasion to take advantage and overcome its opponent, and engaged in constant skirmishes. Each of the abbots was proud, ambitious, and eager to crush his enemy. The abbot of Reichnau one day tried to draw Ulric, and advanced almost to the gates, but failed to bring on an engagement. After long fencing, a traitor was found in the abbey of Reichnau. As the abbot of Reichnau was making a journey to obtain a personal interview with the Pope, the Emperor’s troops captured him, and kept him in prison for two years, and a report was circulated of his death. The Emperor then conferred the vacant abbey on Ulric, as a recompense for his eminent services. A friendly duke then seized the opportunity of getting charge of St. Gall and appropriating its revenues. The abbot of Reichnau, on obtaining his freedom from prison, resumed the warfare; but after many intricate turns of affairs a peace was at last concluded in 1094, and put an end to the long series of skirmishes, battles, conflagrations, sieges, and plunderings between these two belligerents.
MONKS ATTACHED TO THE GREGORIAN CHANT (A.D. 1083).
In 1083 Roger de Hoveden says that a disgraceful quarrel arose between the monks and the Abbot Turstin of Glastonbury, who had been most unworthily appointed to his office. In his folly he treated the Gregorian chant with contempt, and wanted to force the monks to learn instead the chant of one William of Feschamp. The monks were averse to the change; but one day Turstin rushed unexpectedly into the chapter-house with a body of soldiers. The monks fled into the church and to the altar, and the soldiers pursued them, piercing the crosses, images, and shrines of the saints with darts and arrows, and even speared a monk while embracing the altar. The monks stoutly defended themselves with the benches and candlesticks; and though grievously wounded, at last drove the soldiers beyond the choir. The result was that two monks were killed and fourteen wounded, and some of the soldiers also were wounded. On investigation the King removed the abbot, and some of the monks also were transferred to other abbeys. The abbot afterwards wandered about, and died in misery, as became a homicide.
THE RETRIBUTION OF THOSE WHO PILLAGE MONKS (A.D. 1136).
In 1136 we are told by Orderic, a contemporary, that a famous archer, Robert Boet, with his banditti, rushed like wolves on their prey and ravaged the lands of his fellow-monks of St. Evroult. The people of the neighbouring bourg were so incensed that they caught and hanged six of the gang. But the other robbers came soon after, in great fury, to take revenge, and set fire to the village, burning eighty-four houses to ashes. The monks, in a paroxysm of terror, tolled the bells and chanted psalms and litanies in the church, fearing that instant ruin threatened the monastery. Some of the monks went forth with tears to entreat the assailants to desist, and lawful satisfaction would be given; but the bandits, maddened with fury and blind with rage, insulted the envoys and dragged them from their palfreys, and fired the houses near the church. It was only through God’s mercy that the wind changed at the right moment and drove the flames in another direction. The monks’ lodgings, with the books and ecclesiastical ornaments, were saved. It was noticed that after sacking the village of St. Evroult no enterprise of those robbers against their enemies prospered. On the contrary, by God’s judgment, they suffered frequent losses, some of their gang being slain and others taken prisoners. It was but just that those who had attacked unarmed and inoffensive people, whom no fear of God induced them to spare, should meet with the derision of stronger and well-trained troops, by whose superiority they were soon brought low.
URGING THE MONKS TO LIVE FRUGALLY.