A Pilgrimage to Auvergne/Vol 1/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV.
Along a hot dusty level road we proceeded, expecting presently to arrive at some turn where the promised beauties were to meet our eyes, but still we followed an uninterrupted course of corn-fields, with scarcely a bush or tree to afford us a temporary shade. Somewhat disconcerted, we at last turned off into a cross road, and for some time skirted a pretty wood of Samoussy, and thought that new scenery would burst upon us; a change certainly took place, but for the worse, the road was as bad as possible, and we soon discovered that our vehicle was by no means calculated to travel on one so rugged and difficult. After jolting a good while, we at length approached a few shabby, dirty, slovenly-looking houses, and, to our dismay, were informed that our goal was reached. Our driver conducted his carriage through a narrow porch up a stony lane to a little cabaret, where he stopped at the sign of the Blessed Virgin of Liesse; and here he recommended us to dismount, telling us that exactly opposite the end of this court we should find what we sought. We mechanically obeyed his directions, and presently stood before a small, low, insignificant-looking church, with the defaced remains of an ancient portal and window half blocked up: everything besides was new and mean, answering in all respects to the wretched village in the midst of which it rose. In the porch of entrance sat groups of squalid-looking begears with baskets of toys, which they clamorously offered for sale as we approached.
The inside of the church was as uninteresting as the outside. The altar of the Black Virgin is covered with tinsel and faded flowers and ends of old ribbons, little candles and models of limbs hung here and there; crutches, sticks, and other instruments, left behind by-those whose cure had been effected, altogether made as strange and disagreeable a figure as could well be seen. The walls were covered with remarkably bad pictures, and statues, ill-executed, of three knights and a lady in an Eastern costume, were placed under the arches of the pillars; each of these had their names inscribed under them, and were, it appeared, the Chevalier d’Eppe, the Chevalier de Marchais, the Chevalier de Coucy, and the female in the turban and trousers was no other than the renowned Princess Ismerie herself, who bore a strong resemblance to the “Fair Sophia,” immortalised by Cruikshank. A pamphlet, which we bought on the spot, set forth the history of this famous party, which is singular as illustrating the force of credulity and superstition, although the most extraordinary part of the circumstance is that, at the present day, anything so monstrous should be received as true, and that pilgrimages should actually be made, (for we found nothing had been exaggerated to us,) and homage paid to such a shrine.
As we left the church we observed a crowd collected round a cart, out of which a wretched, sick, lame man was being taken to be placed before the altar of the Virgin. Close by, as a sign that holy toys were made at the shop beneath, hung, dangling in the wind from a pole, a large rosary at least five or six feet long, and as we proceeded along the mean narrow street we found that in every house the same merchandise was sold and being prepared. Men, women, and children were all busy turning, hammering, grinding, polishing, weaving, and dressing dolls; every window was crowded with medals, rings, crosses, rosaries, pictures, artificial flowers of coloured paper, images, and bottles of water, said to have been drawn from the holy well close by, filled with all sorts of strange little coloured glass figures, representing sacred personages and symbols of the crucifixion, suspended by globules of glass at different heights in the water. A more perfect picture of the most consummate ignorance and superstition it was impossible to behold, and we were almost inclined to rub our eyes and ask if we were awake or dreaming of a scene of the dark ages of priestcraft. But no, there was a whole town, every individual in which was employed in the fabrication of trumpery unworthy of the notice of a savage, or only fitted to attract such gazers. We continued our way, invited at every step to purchase some of these objects, whose immense profusion actually dazzled our eyes; the sun was burning, the long winding street was stony, no shelter offered itself, when we saw at a distance a few trees, towards which we hastened. These trees afforded a scanty shade to a small building fitted up as a chapel, where on an altar stood another Black Virgin covered with the usual glittering trumpery; the avenue to this was crowded by devout beggars exhibiting their wounds and accidents in a disgusting manner as they sat round the miraculous well in honour of which the chapel was erected. We were soon driven away by the clamour of these people, and looked round for a walk or nook where we might rest from the heat and dust, in vain!
We were obliged to return to our cabaret, and there we rejoiced to seat ourselves in the cool brick parlour at a table, where two very pretty young girls, who had been eyeing us for some time with inquisitive glances, brought us some wine and water, and offered to show us some of their treasures; for here, as at every other house, they sold des souvenirs saints of N. D. de Liesse. Their naïveté and beauty, neatness and good-humour, restored our spirits, and we bought several of the toys they exhibited. A holy bottle could not be resisted—they opened the cases of several, and regretted that, their mamma being out, they could not set forth with sufficient eloquence the virtues and use of the articles we were favoured with. They seemed quite as much amused as we were in looking at and explaining the dancing contents of our bottle. “Voilà ce qu'il y a de bien drôle!” was their frequent exclamation, appropriate enough if the objects to which it was addressed had not represented some of the most sacred mysteries of the Christian religion.
But it is worth while to mention the legend which has given rise to all this absurdity, one which might well have gained credence at the early period when it was first introduced, but how, in this age of common sense and universal instruction, it can be offered by the Romish Church to the belief of the vulgar, is a mystery and a miracle more wondrous than all that it records in the history of the Soldan’s daughter.
Three brothers, of the noble family of Eppe, in Picardy, knights of St. Jean de Jerusalem, distinguished for their courage and piety, were taken prisoners by the Sarrasins at the beginning of the 12th century, and confined in a dungeon at Grand Cairo. The Soldan of Egypt, haying heard of their great reputation, had a curiosity to see them, and caused them to be brought before him. The dignity of demeanour of the three brothers, their superior height, and commanding and handsome presence, impressed the unbeliever with admiration and surprise, and he immediately formed the project of converting them to the faith of Mahomet and gaining them over to serve his cause. Instead, however, of allowing his sentiments to be observed by them, he treated them with greater rigour than before, in order to reduce them to despair and dispose their minds to accept the offers he intended to make. Accordingly, every species of cruelty and severity which could be imagined was heaped upon them; but they received their injuries, not only with patience, but rejoicing, happy to suffer for the glory of heaven.
As may well be imagined, the knights rejected with indignation the temptations thrown in their way; the Soldan then let loose upon them all the most learned doctors of the country, who expounded the mysteries of the Mahomedan religion to no effect, the superior reasonings of the Christian captives putting them to silence and confusion. The Soldan, driven to his wits’ end, then conceived the notable project of sending his daughter, the Prineess Ismerie,—young, beautiful, and of singular knowledge,—to endeavour to convert these obstinate unbelievers.
The Princess, by the command of her father, accordingly clothed herself in her richest attire, as for a festival, and repaired to the prison, to the no small astonishment of the knights, who were far from expecting the honour of such a visit. It seems that the fair Ismerie was gifted with extraordinary eloquence, and it would seem that she was also intimately acquainted with the French language, or else that the knights during their captivity had studied the language of the Egyptians, for a great controversy took place between this partie quarrée. In spite of the Princess's arguments, the captives remained unconvinced of the superiority of the religion of Mahomet; and in the end, after attending to these conversations, the lady “felt in her heart sensations hitherto unknown to her.”
By degrees, a sudden admiration sprang up in her mind of the character of the Virgin Mary, and she expressed an ardent desire to the knights to behold some representation of her, such as the Christians held in veneration.
Here was a great difficulty: neither picture nor statue did any of them possess which could give her an idea of the form she wished to see; neither of them were either sculptors or painters, but the Chevalier d’Eppe, the eldest brother, at last resolved to try his hand at carving something approaching to the holy figure. He requested the Princess to bring him a piece of wood and some implements necessary for his work, which she was condescending enough to promise, all the while concealing from her father the fact of the little progress she had made in the conversion of the knights. When, however, the materials were in their hands, the captives felt themselves in a strange state of embarrassment. All the bonne volonté in the world cannot make an artist ont of a person totally ignorant of art, and they looked at the block of wood before them in despair. Raising their eyes to heaven, and seeking for aid in prayer, they implored the Blessed Mother to afford her assistance in bringing the Princess to a proper view of things, and eyen went so far as to suggest that an image should be constructed by hands unseen, in order to further so desirable a purpose.
In the midst of their prayers, they fell asleep in their dark and narrow dungeon, but what was their astonished delight on awaking to find a brilliant light in the chamber, and in the midst a figure of the Blessed Lady herself, fashioned without doubt by angelic hands.
The next time the Princess visited them, her amazement was extreme to find them so well provided with light, and when the celestial image was presented to her by the Chevalier d’Eppe, she had not another word to say, and, convinced by such a proof of divine interposition, became converted in an instant. Great was the joy of the knights, great was the delight of the Princess, and so content were they altogether, that they named the miraculous image Nôtre Dame de Liesse in memory of the happiness her presence diffused.
The Princess from this time could not separate herself from the wonderful image, which she begged to be allowed to carry off, promising to conceal it carefully in her closet. This she did, and finding her father impatient to behold some fruits of the exhortations he believed his daughter to be constantly giving to the prisoners, she began to be alarmed, and bethought her of asking the advice of the holy companion so miraculously given her. She was in a short time favoured by a vision, in which the Virgin herself appeared to her, surrounded by a troop of holy maidens, and desired her to be of good cheer, for that she would instruct her how to proceed, in order to escape herself from the bondage of infidelity and rescue the knights who suffered for their faith.
Recovering from the ecstasy into which she had fallen, the Princess Ismerie resolved to attempt an escape without loss of time. It is mentioned in the legend, that at midnight she rose, took the miraculous image, “and her jewels,” and sallied forth by a private stair from the palace. All the bolts and bars flew open as she approached the prison, and she found the knights in prayer, expecting her arrival. As no obstacle now barred their passage, they found no difficulty in leaving their disagreeable ahode, and, travelling with all expedition, soon reached the banks of the Nile. There the party were favoured with a new proof of divine protection; for scarcely had they arrived on the shore when a young man presented himself, with a vessel, and declared it to be at their disposal. As swiftly as if propelled by steam they reached the other side; but no sooner had they landed than their ferryman and his bark disappeared. The wanderers took the first path which presented itself, Ismerie always carrying in her arms the celestial image. Notwithstanding her zeal, however, the fair devotee began at length to feel fatigued, the knights, therefore, recommended her to take a little repose while they watched. She retired to repose in a meadow a little way out of the route, while her faithful guardians kept for some time a careful look out, lest the grim Soldan and his people should surprise them. Exhaustion however prevailed, and they all fell asleep on their post. Wondrously was the Chevalier d'Eppe amazed when, on opening his eyes, after some hours' rest, he found himself in a different country, and by degrees recognised his own Picardy and his château de Marchais not far off. He hastened to awake his companions, and inform them of their good fortune. Ismerie’s first care was for the image, which she had laid at her side; she was agonised to find it no longer there, but eeking throughout the meadow she discovered her lost treasure by the side of a spring. This spring is the same still visited at the entrance of the bourg de Liesse, near the Porte de Laon, where a chapel was afterwards erected in honour of the repose of the Virgin, and from that time it is known that fevers and many other maladies have been cured by the waters of the fountain. This is the water in which the little harlequin figures before-mentioned figure.
The lady mother of Eppe being informed by her sons of their royal companion’s arrival, hastened to welcome her, but another miracle occurred on her way from the fountain to the château. As they passed a certain spot the image, which the Princess held in her arms, became too heavy for her to support, and, slipping from her, fixed itself so firmly on the ground that all their efforts were unavailing to move it. They then comprehended that the Virgin wished to receive in that spot the worship of the faithful, and engaged themselves by a vow to execute her desire, after which the figure became as light as before, and the Princess bore it off to the castle.
It seems that the holy joy and numerous acts of rejoicing of the whole neighbourhood, on the return of the knights, finished by causing the miraculous image some ennui, for it was one day found missing, and discovered again fixed on the spot where it had chosen to remain stationary before. This second hint was enough, and the knights, recollecting their vow, applied to the bishop of Laon, by whom the Princess was baptised with great solemnity, and received the name of Marie.
In due time a fine church was erected by the care of the pious knights and their friends; the Princess dedicated herself to the service of heaven; the knights spent their time in holy works, and from that period to the present Noôtre Dame de Liesse has never ceased—allowing for a few unavoidable intervals—to perform the same kind of miracles as those believed to have taken place when her altar was first covered with an arbour of leaves in the meadow where she planted herself on her arrival from the land of the Paynim.
Considering that this image, as well as many others too numerous to mention, was fashioned by celestial hands, it is remarkable how little it answers to the commonly received opinion of beauty, for a more frightful deformed doll it is difficult to behold. There is scarcely a celebrated Virgin throughout France who is not represented as black, from what authority is unknown, unless the artist was guided by the verse of Scripture, as has been supposed by some, which says, “I am black but comely, oh ye daughters of Jerusalem.”
Louis XI., that amateur of black Virgins, had a peculiar devotion to Nôtre Dame de Liesse, and it was in this very chureh that he swore to keep the promises extorted from him by Charles the Bold at Peronne. It is true that he did not keep his oath, but he was probably absolved by N. D. de Clery, or d'Embrun, or whatever other Dame de ses Pensées held sway, as his convenience dictated.
Le “Bon Roi René” was a great patron of this church. Charles VI. made a pilgrimage to this shrine in order to be cured of his unfortunate malady, but it does not seem that the image was propitious. History has not recorded that it was from any interference of this particular Virgin in the affairs of Charles VII. that he owed the restoration of his crown, although he had not failed to invoke her aid. Francis I. came here to return thanks to his black protectress after his emancipation from a Spanish prison. Henry II. visited her shrine, but probably omitted to ask from her some spell against accidents. Charles IX. came here to implore her assistance against heresy, and perhaps took a few hints as to the best means of getting rid of that scourge. His pious mother caused a good road to be made for the greater convenience of pilgrims, and came there in person. Louis XIII, who came here with his queen to pray for his son, greatly benefited the church and restored the sacristy; a grand procession was made from the cathedral of Laon to Liesse by all the magistrates and clergy of the diocese a few days before the death of that pious king, to entreat the Virgin to prolong his life. Pope Clement II, granted two plenary indulgences to those who entered into the confrérie of N. D. de Liesse; one in favour of the living, the other of the dead.
In the church may be read the following announcement, which docs not require comment:
“Avantages du Chemin de la Croix.—A chaque station indulgence plenière, mêmes indulgences que si l'on visitait les Saints Lieux de la Palestine. On peut appliquer ces indulgences aux âmes du Purgatoire. Conditions.—Prier devant chaque tableau; finir par 6 pater et 6 ave.”
Hermits were formerly in abundance in these parts, and our pretty hostesses informed us that there were several still living not far from the town. We, however, declined accompanying them to visit any of these holy men, having quite satisfied our curiosity at N, D. de Liesse.