XI

STEPHEN IN TIMES OF WANT.

 

The consequence of Stephen's thus boldly casting off the protection of the duke of Burgundy, and all that could attract the world into the solitude of Citeaux, soon began to be visible. In the year 1110 it was discovered that the world was inclined to forget those who had forgotten it; for either from the failure of crops, or from some other unknown cause, the convent was reduced to a state not only of poverty but of beggary, and no one was found to relieve it. Stephen's was but a poor abbacy; he had now been scarcely a year in his new dignity, and he found himself lord of a starving community; but he had already counted the cost, and he knew that his Lord would not leave his servants to die of want in the depths of their forest. His countenance was therefore not a whit less smiling on account of his difficulties, and he cheered up his brethren by his earnest words. At length the extremity of want came upon the monastery, and one day the brother cellarer came to the abbot and informed him that there was not enough for one day's provision in the house. "Saddle me two asses", was Stephen's only answer: when they were ready, the abbot himself mounted one, and bade a lay-brother mount the other. He then ordered his companion to beg bread from door to door in a certain village; while he himself went to beg in another, and he appointed a place where they should meet after making their rounds.

To a passing stranger the holy man must have looked very like one of those Sarabaitae or wandering monks, of whom St. Benedict speaks, on a voyage in quest of gain, so strange must have been his figure, mounted as he was on the ignoble beast, in his white habit, and his rough cowl over his shaven head; but his face was radiant with joy, for never was he more like his blessed Lord, than when he was thus reduced to beggary. After having gone through the village, begging as he went, he met this lay-brother returning from his task; on comparing notes the brother's wallet was found to be very much more full than his superior's. "Where have you been begging?" said the abbot, with a smile; "I see you have been gleaning in thicker stubble than I. Where have thou been gleaning?"

The lay-brother answered, "The priest whom you know full well filled my wallet," and he mentioned the priest's name. The abbot at once recognized the priest to be one who had obtained his benefice by simony. It was then in the thick of the contest about investitures, and Stephen shuddered at receiving aught from hands stained with such a sin; and he groaned aloud and said, "Alas! for you; why dids you receive aught there? you did not know, then, that that priest had been simoniacally ordained; and what he has accepted is leprosy and rapine. As the Lord lives, of all that he has-given us, we will taste nothing. God forbid that we should eat of his sin, and that it be turned into the substance of our bodies!"

He then called some shepherds, who were near the spot, and emptied all the contents of the wallet into their laps. This is but one instance, which has been preserved almost by chance, of the difficulties under which the convent laboured, and of Stephen's unworldly way of meeting them; the particulars of their daily life in these trying times have been forgotten. Many other facts of the same sort doubtless were handed down and told by the monks in after-times, as this which we have mentioned was related by Master Peter, surnamed Cantor; but the content traditions have died away, and the chronicles have not recorded more, till we come to the last acts which closed these times of difficulty.

It was by what would be called a strange coincidence that the wants of the brethren were at last relieved. The monks called it a miracle wrought by God at Stephen's prayers; and if the truth be told, we think they were right. It seems to be but scriptural to believe that it happened, as our Lord has promised, "He that believeth on Me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do, because I go to the Father." However, the reader shall judge for himself.

It was a long dreary season, the time of this downright beggary of Citeaux. It was of no great consequence during Lent; but Lent passed away, and Easter came without alleviation. Still the monks, buoyed up by the cheerfulness of their abbot, did not allow their spirits to flag, and only rejoiced the more because they suffered for Christ's sake. At length Pentecost came, and it was found that there was hardly bread in the house to last out the day; nevertheless the brethren prepared for the mass of that great day with ecstacies of joy. They began to chant the solemn service with overflowing hearts, and before the mass was over God rewarded their faith, for succors arrived at the gate of the monastery from an unexpected source. "In these and the like events", says the old monk who relates it, "the man of God, Stephen, weighing within himself how true are those words of Scripture, 'They who fear the Lord shall want no manner of thing that is good,' looked with wonder on the bounty and mercy of God on himself and his brethren: more and more did he progress in holy religion, and gloried in the straits of blessed poverty, as in all manner of riches."

At length the crisis came; even after the mercy of God on Whitsunday their sufferings were not over, nay, they were at their height, and with them proportionately rose the abbot's faith. He called to him one of the brethren, and, as says the same historian, "speaking to him in the Spirit of God, said to him, 'You see, dearest brother, that we are brought into a great strait by want; nay, well nigh are our brethren's lives brought into peril by hunger, cold, and other sufferings. Go then to the market of Vezelay, which is very soon coming on, and buy there three wagons, and for each wagon three horses, strong and fit for draught, of which we are very much in need for carrying our burdens. And when you have laden the wagons with clothes and food and other necessaries, thou shall bring them with you, and come back to us in joy and prosperity."

The poor brother was astonished at the good abbot's command, and it probably crossed him that he was sent on a fool's errand; however, in the spirit of holy obedience he said, "I am ready, my lord and father, to obey thy commands, if you will but give me money to buy these necessaries."

The abbot, however, had no such intentions; he felt quite sure in his royal heart that the crisis was come, and that God was now going to help them. As a physician can see deeper into a disease when it is at its height than the bystanders, so can the spiritual man see into God's providence further than other men. He issued, therefore, his orders with a quiet tone, as if the wealth of Peru was at his command. Regardless of the monk's astonishment, he said, "Be it known to you, brother, that when, in care and anxiety, I searched for means for relieving the wants of our brethren, I found but three pence in the whole house. Take them, if thou will. As for the rest, whatever is wanting, the mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ will provide it. Go then without fear, for the Lord will send his angel with you, and will prosper your way."

It is not on record whether the monk took the three pence with him; but it is certain, whether he did or no, that they would not help him much on his mission. However, he started for the town which the abbot had mentioned. When he got there, he went to the house of a friend, and told him of his difficulties.

Now it happened that a rich neighbour of this friend was on his deathbed, distributing alms to the poor. Thither then the man went, and related in what straits were the monks of Citeaux, whose holiness was well known all over the country; the dying man on hearing this, sent for the monk, and gave him as much money as would suffice to buy all that the abbot had ordered. Away then he went, and bought his three waggons and nine horses, and all the articles of which the brethren stood in need, and then started merrily for Citeaux. When he got near the monastery he sent word to the abbot that he was coming, and how accompanied.

Stephen, in the holy rapture of his heart, assembled the chapter and said, "The God of mercy, the Lord God of mercy has frankly and bountifully dealt with us. Yea, nobly indeed, generously indeed, hast Thou done, Thou who providest for us, our Shepherd, opening Thine hand and filling our poverty with plenteousness." Then the abbot put on his sacred vestments, and took his pastoral staff in his hand, and with the whole convent in procession, the cross and holy water solemnly home before him, went to meet the brother and his convoy at the abbey gate. This was the last of the trials which Stephen had to undergo from the failure of the temporalities of his convent. The alms of the faithful flowed in apace, and the cellarer had never again to report an empty granary to the abbot.

 

THE MORTALITY AT CITEAUX.