[Footnote 93: See note at p. 455.]
Bringing it down so far, we may ask, what was the common, and we may say the vulgar, opinion of the people regarding it? It had never been opened, and was never seen until the end of the last century. The consequence was, that it was called by the name I have mentioned. It was represented as a sort of tunic. It was the custom to make tunics of that form, which were laid upon the shrine and [{452}] worn in devotion; they were sent specially to ladies of great rank, and were so held in veneration that it was the rule, that if any person going to fight a duel had on one of these chemisettes, as they were called, he must take it off; as it was supposed his rival had not fair play so long as he carried it upon him. In giving an account of the building I forgot to mention the wonderful miracles in connection with the relic there, which are believed by everybody to have taken place. It is even on record that the Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche went to Chartres pour se faire enchemiser before he went to war.
In 1712, we find that the relic was in a cedar case richly ornamented with gold and jewels—the original case in which it had arrived. The wood being worm-eaten and crumbling, it was thought proper to remove and clean it, and put it in some better place. The cedar case had no opening by which it could in any way be examined, and the bishop of the time, Mgr. de Merinville, proposed to open it. He chose a jury of the most respectable inhabitants of the town, clergy and laity, to assist. The box was unclosed, and the relic was found wrapped up, as I have said, in the veil of Byzantine work. The veil was not unclosed, so that they did not see the relic itself. The debris of the box was swept away, and the relic, as it was, was put into a silver case that had been prepared; this was locked up, and then deposited in a larger shrine distinct from all the other relics. The procès verbal still exists in the archives of Chartres giving an account of all that took place, from which the account I have given you is taken.
Infidelity was then spreading in France, and, as you may know, a great deal of ridicule was thrown on this relic. It was said that such a garment was not worn in those days, that the system of dress was quite different, and that it was absurd to imagine any article like this. Now, as no one had seen the relic, there was no way of answering these reproaches. In 1793, three commissioners came from the French government, went into the sacristy, and imperiously desired to look at the relic; it was very richly enshrined, and they intended to carry it off. The shrine was brought to them, as the procès verbal of the second examination relates, when they seemed to be seized with a certain awe, and said, "We will not touch it; let it be opened by priests." Two priests were ordered to open the box, and they did so. These men had come prepared to have a good laugh, and scoffing at this wonderful relic. For antiquarians had been saying that such inward clothing was not known so early as the first century, but that instead a long veil used to be wrapped round the body.
Well, they found a long piece of cloth four and a half ells in length—exactly what had been said should be the proper garment. The commissioners were startled and amazed, and said, "It is clear that this is not the relic the people have imagined; perhaps it is all an imposture." They then cut off a considerable piece and sent it to the Abbé Barthélemy, author of the "Travels of Anacharsis" and member of the Institute—a man who had made the customs and usages of antiquity his study; they did not tell him where it came from, but desired him to give an opinion of what it might be. He returned this answer: that it must be about 2,000 years old, and that from the description given him it appeared to be exactly like what the ladies in the East wear at this day, and always have worn—that is, a veil which went over the head, across the chest, and then involved the whole body, being the first dress worn. I ask, could a verification be more complete than this? And, recollect, it comes entirely from enemies. It was not the bishop or clergy that sought it. The relic was in the hands of those three infidel commissioners, who sent a portion to Paris without saying or giving any hint of what it was (they [{453}] wanted to make out that the whole was an imposture), and the answer was returned which I have mentioned, and which is contained in the procès in the archives of the episcopal palace at Chartres. If any one wants to read the whole history, I refer him to a most interesting book just published by the curé of St. Sulpice (Abbé Hamon), entitled "Notre Dame de France, ou Histoire du Culte de la Sainte Vierge en France." The first volume, the only one out, contains the history of the dioceses of the province of Paris.
I will proceed to a second popular charge, and it is one the opportunity of easily verifying which may never occur again. It refers to the head of St. John the Baptist, or, shall I say, to the three heads of St. John the Baptist? Because, if you read English travellers of the old stamp, like Forsyth, you will find that they make coarse jokes about it. Forsyth, I think, says something about Cerberus; but more gravely it has been said, that St. John must have had three heads—one being at Amiens, one at Genoa, and another at Rome; that at each place they are equally positive in their claims; and that there is no way of explaining this but by supposing that St. John was a triceps.
When we speak of a body you can easily imagine that one piece may be in one place, another in another, a third elsewhere, and so on. That is the common way in which we say that the bodies of saints are multiplied; because the Church considers that the place which contains the head or one of the larger limbs of a saint, or the part in which, if a martyr, he was killed or received his death-wound, has the right of keeping his festival and honoring him just as if it had the whole body. Therefore, in cathedrals and places where festivals are held in honor of a particular saint, where they have relics, which have perhaps been sealed up for years, and never examined, they often speak as if they have the entire body. This is a common practice, and if I had time I might give you an interesting exemplification of it. [Footnote 94] Suffice it to say, that according to travellers there are three heads of St. John. Now as I have said, a body can be divided, but you can hardly imagine this to be the case with a head.
[Footnote 94: Since published in The Month, "Story of a French Officer." (See CATH. WORLD, No. 1.)]
A very interesting old English traveller—Sir John Mandeville—went into the East very early, and returned in 1366; soon after which, almost as soon as any books were published, his travels appeared. He is a very well-known writer. Of course you must not expect that accuracy in his works which a person would now exhibit who has books at his command and all the conveniences for travelling. He was not a profound scholar: he believes almost whatever is told him, so what we must do is to let him guide us as well as he can, and endeavor to judge how far he is right. I will read you an extract, then, from Sir John Mandeville: [Footnote 95]
[Footnote 95: "Travels," chap, ix., p. 182. Ed. Bohn.]