“Near this Monument (Rachel’s Tomb) is a little piece of ground in which are picked up a little sort of small round Stones, exactly resembling Pease: Concerning which they have a tradition here, that they were once truly what they now seem to be; but the Blessed Virgin petrify’d them by a Miracle, in punishment to a surly Rustick, who deny’d her the Charity of a handful of them to relieve her hunger.”
According to a mediæval biography, St. Jerome was one day studying in his cell at Bethlehem, when there entered an enormous lion, limping from an injured paw. The tender-hearted saint bound up the wound, which speedily healed, whereupon the great beast was overwhelmed with gratitude and attached himself permanently to his deliverer.
The lion followed Jerome about everywhere like a dog, and slept at the feet of the holy man while he was pursuing his Scriptural studies. Upon occasion, however, the complacent creature was not above minding the monastery donkey when it was put out to pasture, or even acting as a beast of burden; while at night the fearful roar of the saint’s protector brought terror to the hearts of any evil-doers who might be prowling near the monastery grounds.
The story was accepted without question during the Middle Ages, and many a valiant Crusader was willing to make oath that he had seen the ghosts of the saint and his attendant lion strolling silently among the hilltops of Judea in the midnight shadows.
A whole group of legends tell of the miraculous deliverances of the Church of the Nativity from destruction by the Moslems.
At one time the Sultan gave orders to dismantle the interior, and carry off the precious marble slabs from the floor and walls of the church. But when the workmen prepared to tear away the wall near the stairways which go down to the sacred cave, suddenly there came out of the solid stone a serpent of enormous size, who struck at the piece of marble before which the Moslems were standing. And lo, the rock split under the force of his fiery tongue! Swiftly the reptile glided to the next slab, which he likewise cracked; and so he passed through the church, splitting in all no less than forty pieces of marble, after which he disappeared as mysteriously as he had come. The Sultan and his helpers were stricken with terror at the apparition, and gave up their purpose to deface the church.
The cracks in the marble apparently disappeared as soon as the danger was past; but in substantiation of the truth of the story, mediæval pilgrims were shown traces of the serpent’s path, which appeared as though the stones had been marked by an intense flame.
