In a different or opposite sense, strange facts now took place which it is necessary to notice. On three or four occasions, certain women and children had, or pretended to have, visions similar to those of Bernadette.
Were these visions real? Was diabolical mysticism endeavoring to mix with the divine in order to trouble it? Was there at the bottom of these singular phenomena a mental derangement or the ill-timed trickery of naughty children? Or was there a hostile hand secretly at work pushing forward these visionaries in order to cast discredit on the miracles at the grotto? We cannot tell.
The multitude, whose eyes were fixed on all the details, and who eagerly sought to draw conclusions from what they already knew, were less reserved in their judgment.
The supposition that the false visionaries were incited by the police immediately took possession of the public mind as being very consistent with the policy of the authorities. The children who pretended to have had visions mingled their accounts with most extravagant incoherencies. Once they scaled the barrier which enclosed the grotto, and, under pretence of offering their services to the pilgrims, of procuring the water for them, and of touching their beads on the rock, they received and appropriated money. Strange to say, Jacomet did not interfere with their proceedings, although it would have been quite easy to have arrested them. He even affected not to notice these strange scenes, ecstasies, and violations of the enclosure. From this surprising behavior of the shrewd and far-sighted chief, everybody concluded the existence of one of those secret plots of which the police, and even the administration, are sometimes thought capable.
"Baron Massy," so they said, "sees that public opinion is withdrawing from him, and, convinced that open violence is insufficient to put a stop to these events, has sought to dishonor them in principle by encouraging the false visionaries, full accounts of whom we shall soon see in the journals and the official reports. Is fecit cui prodest."
Whatever might have been the truth of these suspicions, perhaps incorrect, such scenes could not but disturb the peace of souls. The curé of Lourdes, moved by these scandals, immediately expelled the pretended seers from the catechisme, and declared that, if similar occurrences took place in the future, he would not rest until he had exposed their true instigators.
The position and threats of the curé produced a sudden and radical effect. The pretended visions ceased at once, and nothing more was heard of them. They had only lasted four or five days.
M. Peyramale notified the bishop of this occurrence. M. Jacomet, on his part, addressed to the authorities an exaggerated and romantic statement, of which we will have future occasion to speak. This audacious attempt of the enemy to destroy the true nature and honor of the movement only added to the reasons which called peremptorily for action on the part of the bishop. Everything seemed to indicate that the moment for interference had come, when the religious authority should set about examining and giving sentence.
Men of distinction in the Catholic world, such as Mgr. de Salines, Archbishop of Auch; Mgr. Thibaud, Bishop of Montpellier; Mgr. de Garsignies, Bishop of Soissons; M. Louis Veuillot, chief editor of the Univers; and persons less widely celebrated, but of national reputation, such as M. de Rességuier, formerly a deputy; M. Vène, chief engineer of mines, and inspector-general of thermal waters in the Pyrenees; and a great number of eminent Catholics, were at that time in the country.
All had examined these extraordinary facts which form the subject of our history; all had interrogated Bernadette; all were either believers or strongly inclined to believe. They tell of one of the most venerated bishops, that he was unable to control the emotion awakened by the naif statement of the little seer. Gazing upon the open brow which had received the glance of the ineffable Virgin Mother of God, the prelate could not restrain the first movement of piety. The prince of the church bowed before the majesty of that humble peasant.