—How many lofty mountains rise toward heaven from this low isle! And St. Cæsarius of Arles: “Happy, blessed isle of Lérins, thou art small and level, but from thee have risen innumerable mountains!” Over forty saints are mentioned by name in the Litany of Lérins, besides the hundreds of martyrs who are invoked.
Salvian thus alludes to the paternal rule of St. Honorat: “As the sun changes the aspect of the firmament by its splendor or obscurity, so joy and sadness are diffused among those who, under his paternal guidance, aim at heaven and devote themselves to the angelic functions. If Honorat suffers, all suffer; restored to health, all return to new life.”
Lérins became so renowned as a school of theology that, in the seventh century, there were three thousand and seven hundred monks, and the Christian world sent here to obtain its bishops and the directors for its monasteries. It was in this century that St. Aygulph established here the rule of St. Benedict. In the eighth century, when the Saracens invaded the island, more than five hundred monks fell victims to their hatred of Christianity. Eleuthère, by the aid of King Pepin, restored the ruined buildings, but the enemy returned again, committing fresh ravages, and, indeed, devastating the island. These attacks at length became so frequent that the pope granted indulgences to all who would aid in defending it against the infidel. Whosoever devoted himself to this good work for the space of three months acquired the same indulgences as a pilgrim to the Holy Places at Jerusalem, and minor ones were accorded to those who sent substitutes. In 1088 was erected the lofty citadel, which is still the most prominent object on the island, as a retreat for the monks in time of danger. It was connected with the abbey by a subterranean passage. This is now a picturesque ruin. It is on the eastern shore of the island, and rises directly out of the water. The massive walls of hewn stone have acquired a soft, mellow tint that contrasts admirably with the sky and sea. They are scarred with many a cannon-ball that tells of more than one rude assault.
Here and there are narrow loop-holes, and high up in the air is a line of battlements that still seem to defy both the sea and the Moor. There was formerly a drawbridge, and nothing was lacking necessary to sustain a siege. This stronghold formed part of a line of signals along the sea-coast. It was four or five stories high, and contained four kitchens, several chapels, thirty-six cells for the monks and five for strangers, with cisterns, and everything to render it a complete monastery as well as castle. The Père Antonin was our guide around this interesting ruin. It is entered by a spiral staircase, which brought us into a small court or cloister with several galleries around it, one above the other, communicating with the different stories, sustained by pillars of marble, porphyry, and granite. Old fragments of carved capitals, and inscriptions, some Roman, some Christian, were scattered here and there. In the centre is an immense cistern, paved with marble, which contains a never-failing supply of water. This was constructed by Gastolius de Grasse, who, having lost his wife and children, retired to the island to console himself with the thought of heaven and eternal reunion, devoting his whole fortune to the poor and the improvement of the monastery. The old chapter-room is utterly ruined. Its arches were blown up by some Scotchman in his attempts to find the supposed treasure of St. Honorat, and the rank grass is growing from the accumulated soil. There is the old refectory with its crumbling pulpit, and, in the next room, the lavatory of calcareous stone, like an ancient sarcophagus, where the monks washed their hands before entering the refectory. On it is graven in Latin: “O Christ! by thy right hand, which can cleanse us within and without, purify our souls, which this water cannot cleanse.” Then there is the chapel which once contained the relics of SS. Honorat,[[167]] Caprais, Venance, Aygulph, etc., and the three sacred altars to which indulgences were attached at the request of the Emperor Charles V. The chapel of Notre Dame de Pitié, or of the dead, was used for domestic purposes by some layman who held the island after the Revolution, and the place where once rose the solemn requiem and the odor of incense was now filled with the fumes of a kitchen. We went up, still by the spiral staircase, to the battlements. Here we looked down on the whole island. Before us was stretched the neighboring shore with fair towns and villages from Cannes to Nice, with the purple mountains in the background. On the other hand, in the distance, rose the mountains of Corsica. And all around was the sea that bathes the shores of so many storied lands.
With increased means of defence the prosperity of the abbey revived. It had the exclusive right, conferred by the counts of Provence, of fishing in the surrounding waters. It owned numerous priories all along the coast from Genoa to Barcelona, as well as in the interior. And it continued to be a centre from which radiated light, and many a person escaped from the Mare Magnum of the profane world to this haven of spiritual rest. We read that Bertrand, Bishop of Fréjus in the eleventh century, retired to St. Honorat (as the bishop of Valence has recently done) and died here in the odor of sanctity. For those who wished to lead the eremitical life there were formerly many cells around the island. How dear this holy retreat was to its inmates may be seen by a letter from Denis Faucher, whose duties retained him from the isle, to his superior: “My thoughts turn eagerly towards Lérins. Sad, I bewail my long exile. In spite of my oft-renewed entreaties, you defer my deliverance. A cruel grief torments my desolate soul. I love not these magnificent palaces. Let kings inhabit them. For them, they gleam with marble; for me, the desert and the lonely shore. That little isle suffices for my happiness.”
Around the island were seven small chapels, or oratories, mostly on the shore, to which, like the seven stations at Rome, great indulgences were attached. These were successively visited by the pilgrims as a preparation for receiving the Holy Eucharist.
The tombs of the saints, the holy chapels, the soil impregnated with the blood of the martyrs, and the wondrous history of the island, gave it a glorious prestige that made it not only a resort for pilgrims, but even the dead were brought across the waters, with crucifix and lanterns held aloft in the boats, and chants mingling with the sad murmur of the waves, to be laid in this consecrated isle. Many remains of their marble tombs are still to be found.
We, too, made the stations of the seven holy chapels, though they are mostly in ruins. That of the Holy Trinity, in the eastern part of the island, is the most ancient. Its walls of massive stones are still erect. It is a Romanesque chapel, with three bays, the remains of an ancient porch, and vaults beneath for recluses or the dead. But the windows are gone, and rank weeds grow in the interior.
Only a few traces remain of St. Cyprian’s chapel; not St. Cyprian who shed his blood at Carthage, but St. Cyprian of Lérins, surnamed the Magician, who is honored September 26.
Further on, among the rocks on the shore, is the legendary cave known as the Baoumo de l’Abbat, only accessible by going down into the water and wading through a narrow crevice between two tall rocks. It was here, when St. Porcaire and his five hundred companions were martyred by the Saracens, that two of the monks, Colomb and Eleuthère, fled in terror to conceal themselves. But they could still hear the vociferations of the infidel, and, their eyes being opened, could see the souls of their brethren ascending to heaven, conducted by the angels. Ravished by this spectacle, Colomb cried out with holy enthusiasm: “Let us go forth to be crowned like them. Let us fly to the Lord!” Eleuthère still shrank with fear, but Colomb went boldly out to share the glory of his brethren. Eleuthère afterwards gathered together the monks who had escaped, and became abbot of Lérins. Hence the name of the Abbot’s Cave, given to the place of his concealment.