A long time after, when the festival of the blessed martyr came, my father with all his household made haste to attend the joyful celebration. As we were on the way, my older brother Peter was seized by a fever and became so ill that he could not move about or take food. We journeyed on in great grief and it was doubtful whether he would recover or die. In this state of distress we at length arrived; we entered the church and worshipped at the holy martyr’s tomb. The sick boy cast himself down on the pavement, praying for a cure by the glorious martyr. Finishing his prayer he returned to his lodging and the fever went down a little. When night came we hastened to keep watch and he asked to be carried along, and lying before the tomb he begged the martyr’s favor all night long. When the watch was over he asked them to gather dust from the blessed tomb and give it to him in a drink, and hang it about his neck. This was done, and the heat of the fever went down so that on the very same day he took food without suffering and walked about wherever his fancy took him.
Gregory’s Modesty[92]
(Preface, The Four Books on the Miracles of St. Martin)
The miracles which the Lord our God deigned to work through the blessed Martin, his bishop, when living in the body, He still deigns to confirm daily in order to strengthen the faith of believers. He who worked miracles through him when he was in the world, now honors his tomb with miracles, and He who at that time sent him to save the perishing heathen, [now] bestows through him blessings on the Christians. Therefore let no one have doubt about the miracles worked in former time when he sees the bounty of the present wonders bestowed, when he looks upon the lame being raised up, the blind receiving sight, demons being driven out and every other kind of disease being cured through his healing power. As for me I will establish belief in the book written about his life by earlier writers, by relating for posterity at God’s command his present-day miracles as far as I can recall them. This I would not presume to do if I had not been warned twice or thrice in a vision. I call all-powerful God to witness that I once saw in a dream at mid-day many who were crippled and overwhelmed by various diseases being cured in St. Martin’s church, and I saw this in the presence of my mother who said to me: “Why are you so sluggish about writing of these things that you see?” I replied: “You know well enough that I am unskilled in letters, and that, simple and untrained as I am, I would not dare to describe such wonderful miracles. I wish Severus or Paulinus were alive or that Fortunatus at the least were here to describe them. I have no skill for such a task and I should be blamed if I undertook it.” But she said: “Don’t you know that now-a-days on account of the people’s ignorance one who speaks as you can is more clearly understood? Therefore do not hesitate or delay, for you will be guilty if you pass this over in silence.” So I wished to follow her advice and was doubly tortured with grief and fear; grief that miracles as great as were done under our predecessors should not be recorded; fear of undertaking so noble a task, ignorant as I am. However, led on by the hope of divine mercy, I am going to attempt the task thus urged upon me. For, as I suppose, He who produced water in the desert from a dry rock and cooled the thirsty people, is able to set these matters forth in my words; and it will be surely proved that he has again opened the ass’s mouth if he deigns to open my lips and make known these miracles through an untaught person like me. But why should I fear my ignorance when the Lord our God and Redeemer chose not orators, but fishermen, not philosophers, but countrymen, to destroy the vanity of worldly wisdom. I have confidence, then, thanks to your prayers, that even if my rude speech cannot adorn the page, the great bishop will give it fame by his glorious miracles.
Remarkable Exercise of “Virtue” by St. Martin
(Ibid., Book I, Ch. 20)
Since I have told two or three times how miracles were performed and dangers averted by the mere invocation of the glorious name, I shall now describe how the blessed bishop was called upon and brought help to one who was falling headlong to death![93] Ammonius, an officer of the holy church, arose from dinner somewhat under the influence of wine, and, the enemy giving him a push, he fell headlong over a lofty cliff that bordered the road. There was there a drop of about two hundred feet. While he was whirling about as he fell headlong and was flying down without wings he kept crying for aid from St. Martin at every instant of his fall. Then he felt as if he were tossed from a saddle by some one and he landed among the trees that were in the valley. And thus coming down slowly limb by limb he reached the ground without danger of death. However that the plotter’s undertaking might not seem to have been completely in vain, he suffered a slight injury in one foot. But he went to the glorious master’s church and prayed and was relieved of all pain.
Miracles Worked on Gregory
(Ibid., Book I, ch. 32, 33)
Having related the miracles performed for others, I shall tell what the miraculous power of this protector has done for my unworthy self. In the hundred and sixtieth year after that holy and praiseworthy man, the blessed bishop Martin, was taken up to heaven, when the holy bishop Eufronius was governing the church of Tours in his seventh year, and in the second year of the glorious king Sigibert, I became ill with malignant pimples and fever, and being unable to eat or drink I was reduced to such a state that I lost all hope of the present life and thought of nothing but of the details of my burial. For death was constantly raging at me, eager to separate my soul from my body. Then when I was almost dead I called on the name of the blessed champion Martin and made some improvement, and began slowly and painfully to prepare for my journey; for I had made my mind up that I ought to visit his venerable tomb. And my desire was so great that I did not even wish to live if I was to be delayed in going.[94] Although I had scarcely escaped from a dangerous fever, I began to be on fire again with the fever of desire. And so, although not yet strong, I hastened to go with my people. After two or three stages, on entering the forest, I fell ill of the fever again, and was in such a serious condition that they all said I was dying. Then my friends came to me and saw I was very weak, and said: “Let us return home and if God wishes to call you, you will die in your own home; and if you recover, you will make the journey you have vowed more easily. For it is better to return home than to die in the wilderness.” On hearing this I wept bitterly and bewailed my ill-luck, and said: “I adjure you by all-powerful God and the day of judgment which all fear who have to make answer there, that you agree to my request. Don’t give up the journey we have begun, and if I have merit to see the holy Martin’s church, I shall thank God; but if not, carry my dead body there and bury it, because I am determined not to return home, if I have not the merit to appear at his tomb.” Then we all wept together and went on, and, guarded by the glorious master, we arrived at his church.… The third night after arriving at the holy church we planned to keep watch and did so. In the morning when the bell for matins rang, we returned to our lodging and going to bed we slept until nearly the second hour. Then I woke up and found that all weakness and pain were gone and I had recovered my former health, and I gladly called my usual attendant to wait on me.… And I shall not forget to say that after forty days that one was the first on which I took pleasure in drinking wine, since because of my illness I detested it until then.
(Ibid., Book II, Ch. 1)
In the second month after my ordination, when I was at a country place, I suffered from dysentery and high fever and began to be so ill that I altogether despaired of living. Everything that I could eat was always vomited before it had been digested and I loathed food, and when my stomach had no more strength as a result of no food the fever was the only thing that gave me strength; I could in no way take anything substantial and strengthening. I had severe pain, too, that darted all through my stomach and went down into my bowels, exhausting me by its pain no less than the fever had done. And when I was in such a condition that no hope of life was left and everything was being made ready for my death and the physician’s medicine could do nothing for one whom death had laid claim to, I was in despair and called the chief physician Armentarius and said to him: “You have used every trick of your profession, you have tried the power of all your remedies, but secular means are of no avail to the perishing. There is only one thing left for me to do. I will show you a great remedy:[95] let them bring dust from the holy master’s tomb and make a potion for me from it. And if this does not cure me, every means of escape is lost.” Then the deacon was sent to the tomb of the holy bishop just mentioned and he brought the sacred dust and put it in water and gave me a drink of it. When I had drunk, soon all pain was gone and I received health from the tomb. And the benefit was so immediate that although this happened in the third hour, I became quite well and went to dinner that very day at the sixth hour.[96]
(Ibid., Book III, Preface and Ch. 1)