Trinitatis visionem, 1522.
While we were saying a prayer at the foot of the cross a peasant woman, who was passing by, stopped to tell us how San Ignacio came here to do penance and had a vision of God. The terrace occupies an opening between the houses which frame an incomparable view over the valley of the Llobregat, with the solemn turrets of Montserrat in full sight. The tall gray cross against that golden sky, with the Vale of Paradise spread out at the foot, is certainly one of the most ravishing views it is possible to conceive. Steps descend from the cross, winding a little way down the side of the cliff, which is covered with ivy, to a pretty fountain fed by clear water bubbling from the rocks.
Turning back from the Cruz del Tort, and passing through the suburbs, we soon came into the city among streets that looked centuries old. We passed San Antonio in a niche, and soon came to a small Plaza with a painting of St. Dominic at the corner, and in the centre a stone obelisk with a long inscription, of which we give a literal translation:
“To Ignatius de Loyola, son of Beltran, a native of Cantabria, the founder of the Society of Jesus, who, in his thirtieth year, while valiantly fighting in defence of his country, was dangerously wounded, but being cured by the special mercy of God, and inspired with an ardent desire to visit the holy places at Jerusalem, after making a vow of chastity, set forth on the way, and, laying aside his military ensigns in the temple of Mary, the Mother of God, at Montserrat, clothed himself in sackcloth, and in this state of destitution came to this place, where with fastings and prayers he wept over his past offences, and avenged them like a fresh soldier of Christ. In order to perpetuate the memory of his heroic acts, for the glory of Christ and the honor of the Society, Juan Bautista Cardona, a native of Valencia, bishop of Vich, and appointed to the see of Tortosa, out of great devotion to the said father and his order, dedicates this stone to him as a most holy man to whom the whole Christian world is greatly indebted, Sixtus V. being pope, and Philip II. the great and Catholic king of Spain.”
On another side is the following:
“This monument, having been overthrown during a time of calamity, has been restored and commended to posterity by the most noble ayuntamiento of the city of Manresa, out of ineffaceable love, Pius V. being Sovereign Pontiff, Carlos IV. king, and Ignacio de la Justicia governor of the city. 1799.”
Bishop Cardona, the first to set up this monument, was an able writer of the golden age of Spanish literature, and a man of such vast knowledge that he was employed by Philip II. in the formation of the royal library at the Escorial. He was a great admirer of St. Ignatius, and left an inedited manuscript, now in the National Library, entitled Laus St. Ignatii.
While we were standing before this obelisk we were agreeably convinced that, notwithstanding all the ravages of pestilence and the massacres of the French, the good and loyal city was in no danger of being depopulated; for the doors of a large edifice on one side of the square opened, and forth came a swarm of boys that could not have been equalled, it seemed to us, since the famous crusade of children in the thirteenth century. They came from a school in what was once the Jesuits’ college, built out of the ancient hospital of Santa Lucia, where St. Ignatius used to minister to the sick, and sometimes seek shelter himself. This was what we were in search of. Connected with the college is the modern church of St. Ignatius, and from one side of the nave you enter the old church of the hospital, which has been carefully preserved. Here we found the Capilla del Rapto, a small square chapel, opening into the aisle and covered with frescos. It is so called because it was here St. Ignatius lay rapt in ecstasy from the hour of complines on the eve of Passion Sunday till the same hour on the following Saturday. It was during this wonderful withdrawal into the spiritual world that the foundation of the Society of Jesus was revealed to him, as is stated in an inscription on the wall. For more than two centuries a solemn octave has been annually celebrated here in commemoration of this divine ecstasy. Beneath the simple altar lies the saint in effigy, wearing the coarse robe which made the gamins of that day call him El Saco, or Old Sackcloth, till they found out he was a saint. Over the altar is a painting of the Rapto, in which, unable to endure the vision of Christ Glorified with mortal eyes, St. Ignatius is mercifully rapt in ecstasy. Angels bend around him, holding the banner of the Holy Name that has become the watchword of the Society. In hoc vocabitur tibi nomen. On one side of the chapel he is represented catechising the children, and on the other he stands in his penitential garments, exhorting the patients of the hospital, while some lord, doubtless Don Andrés de Amigant, is kneeling to him in reverence.
The original pavement of stone is covered with a wooden floor to preserve it, but a brass plate, on which is inscribed the name of Jesus, is raised to show the spot where the saint’s head lay in his ecstasy. The stone is worn with kisses, and has been partly cut away by pilgrims. Behind the chapel is the room where he used to teach children the catechism, and there is the same old stone stoup for holy-water that was used in his day. Here, too, is an inscription:
Serviendo en este Hospital