Blessed John of Montmirail

His influence was immense. Far from abusing it, he used it only to bring happiness to others and to obtain favors for the lords who proved themselves worthy. Through this, he made himself loved by his sovereign and admired by the great. It can be said that he was the glory, the delight, and, as it were, the idol of the court. What must be regarded as a marvel is that he had no enemies, so well had he managed to win all hearts. By this compassionate charity, he not only won the good graces of men but also secured those of heaven even more. Everything one does for the least of God's servants, one does to God Himself. But this good Master never allows Himself to be outdone in generosity, and He always repays a hundredfold. John made himself cherished by his king even more than by the courtiers. Philip had taken him as his confidant, shared all his joys with him, and poured all his troubles into his bosom.

The favors of the world cannot fail to produce their effects. All pleasures rush toward John and seduce his heart. Who could resist their treacherous lures? One can only triumph over them by flight; but the Baron of Montmirail is held at court by bonds so sweet, so numerous, and so strong that only a divine hand could release him from them. The Countess of La Ferté-Gaucher watches with dread as he brings his lips to the enchanting cup of Babylon. She wishes to snatch him from the dangers that surround him and proposes that he enter into an alliance with a woman worthy of him by her birth, her qualities, and her education: she was called Hélvide de Dampierre and was the third si ster of Guy de Dampi Hélvide de Dampierre Wife of Jean de Montmirail. erre and of Bourbon. The hope of the Countess of La Ferté-Gaucher was deceived. This alliance, while giving John greater consideration at court, only attached him more to the vanities of the world.

John possessed everything suited to make him cherished by the world: an ancient lineage, an immense fortune, a brilliant education, an unblemished reputation, bravery, and liberality. Young, tall, robust, tireless in work, trained by the most skillful masters in all physical exercises, with a lively, eager, and penetrating mind, initiated into all human knowledge, John had but one passion: glory. As there reigned at court an incredible luxury, the Baron of Montmirail wished to surpass all the lords in magnificence. His retinues were of unheard-of richness. Gold and precious stones sparkled on his sumptuous garments.

John was the quintessential type of the great lord of the Middle Ages; he often distinguished himself in the armies in the service of his sovereign. He performed wonders above all and won the prize for valor on the day of Gisors, where Philip crushed a flourishing army of English who had come to surprise him. John had reached journée de Gisors Military conflict in which John distinguished himself against the English. the pinnacle of honors, wealth, and joy; everything smiled upon him. The world charmed him with its enchanting prestiges, surrounded him with all its pomp, and intoxicated him with delights. But God, in His mercy, raised up for him a true friend who, far from flattering him like the courtiers by whom he was surrounded, never ceased to wisely warn him of his salvation. This vigilant, disinterested, courageous, and prudent monitor was a regular canon of Saint-Jean des Vignes of

LIVES OF THE SAINTS. — VOLUME XI. 33 Soissons, prior of Saint-Étienne de Montmirail, na med Jo Jobert Prior of Saint-Étienne de Montmirail, initiator of the conversion of Jean. bert. The natural goodness of Jean and the Christian education he received in his youth gave the prior easy access to him. This excellent pastor took the opportunity to speak some edifying words to him, to make him feel with great skill all the futility of the grandeurs of the world, and to cast a salutary trouble into his heart. Despite his warlike temperament and his passion for noisy pleasures, Jean listened with kindness, with humility, with religious attention, and even with the docility of a disciple, to the wise lessons of his spiritual physician; then he executed them with the faithfulness of a servant. He tore himself away imperceptibly and in an admirable manner from his old habits, descended from the heights of worldly grandeur, lowered himself in his heart before the supreme majesty, conceived a profound contempt for himself, and rose through the different degrees of humility from virtue to virtue. This progress of grace was prompt in him. The respect with which he received the salutary advice that heaven gave him through the mouth of the prior earned him such effective help that he broke his chains forever. A transformation so marvelous took place in him that one finds no example of it either in the sages of paganism, or in modern philosophers, or in the thousand sects of Protestantism, or in the Greek schism. The most advanced civilization and science carried to its final period will produce nothing similar. Catholicism alone is capable of operating this miracle; because Catholicism alone is the true religion, and a divine sap flows within it. The conversion of Jean was so rapid, so entire, so solid, so surprising, that one must recognize the finger of God in it. There was no inconstancy in him. After having put his hand to the plow, he never looked back. Once entered into the difficult path of salvation, he ran, he flew. He trampled underfoot without hesitation all human respect, which denotes a prodigious strength of soul. He rose above the judgments that the world could pass on his conduct, walked boldly between honor and ignominy, between bad and good report, and did not fear to immolate himself to public mockery. The battles he prepared to sustain against self-love would be infinitely more heroic than his incredible struggles against the Turks and the English. To understand how great and how admirable this change of manners was, let us report the testimony of Gaucher, who was first abbot of Longpont, and then of Cîteaux: "He was entirely detached from himself in the midst of the world. He looked upon e verythi Cîteaux Monastic order to which Bertrand and the Abbey of Grandselve belong. ng he possessed—his castles, his vast domains, his houses, his farms, and all the pomps of the century—as nothing but mud. He applied himself to imitating Jesus Christ in everything, whose grace had anticipated him, who had torn him from the vanity and ostentation of the century, who by his mercy had made him a faithful observer of his commandments, and had made him hear this evangelical word: 'If anyone wishes to come after me, and be my disciple, let him renounce himself and take up his cross.'" Never was such a prodigy of abnegation, of self-contempt, of love of mortifications seen. Jean passed all at once from the height of pride to the height of humility. As much as he sought honors, so much and more he sought abjections; as much as he wanted to surpass all men, so much he studied to be the last of all. Pride had been his dominant vice. Now humility would become his capital virtue, his own virtue, which would constitute the whole foundation of his character, which would be the principle of all his actions, which would form the source from which all his other virtues would flow, which would distinguish him from all the great personages of the Middle Ages, and would earn him a unique title.

While he shone at court and was its delight, he charged his bailiffs with fulfilling his duties in his lands. But the bailiffs, not being under the master's eye, did not always discharge their duties with exactitude. When he was touched by grace, he then understood the full magnitude of his obligations. With what zeal he set out to traverse his domains, to redress the wrongs of his officers everywhere, and to render to each what is due! As much as he was good to the weak, he armed himself with severity against the strong, the wicked, and the scoundrels. He displayed tireless zeal to prevent scandals, to stop the course of abuses, to destroy evil, to overthrow the reign of the demon, to establish that of Jesus Christ in souls, to provide for the needs of the people entrusted to his care, and to make justice flourish everywhere. His vigilance was so great that it knew no rest. Like the royal Prophet, he always kept his eyes open, so that the enemy of salvation, who watches ceaselessly for the loss of souls, might not surprise him.

One of the principal prerogatives of lords was the administration of justice. This was a very important, very arduous, and extremely delicate function. Among the lords who were admired as great dispensers of justice, none can be compared to John. This prince gave all his care to such a difficult task. It can be said of him that he was occupied only with what concerned the service of his vassals. Indeed, he found his rest, his joy, and his delights only in what concerned their happiness. He knew that he would be treated as he had treated others, and that he would be measured with the same measure he had used; thus, it was always with a holy terror that he mounted his tribunal. Like the sovereign judge he represented, he showed no partiality. However, he lent a more attentive ear to the widow, the orphan, the weak, the innocent, and especially the poor. But he armed himself with a holy rigor against audacious culprits and those who seized the property of others. How his heart bled when he was obliged to apply the rigorous laws of the time!

John extended his solicitude to all. He repressed the passions of ardent youth with salutary advice. With what tenderness he consoled misfortune and relieved misery! What zeal he displayed to end the slightest disputes, to prevent divisions in families, to reconcile father with child, husband with wife, neighbor with neighbor! In a word, he said to all what Saint Paul wrote to the Hebrews: "Strive, my dear children, to have peace with everyone, and to acquire holiness, without which no one will see God." He was a man of the law; he knew only the law. However, he applied it with such a just temperament that gentleness did not shackle justice, nor did the zeal that animated him for the observance of the law exceed the bounds of moderation. He knew that too much indulgence emboldens crime, and that too much rigor irritates and does not amend the culprit. He united gentleness and severity so happily that he made himself feared and loved at the same time. He was truly a father in the midst of his children. Thus, his name was on every lip and even more in every heart. All his vassals were devoted to him, as sons are to the author of their days. He had boundless confidence in the infinite goodness of the Lord, and his confidence would not be deceived. The more obstacles and dangers surrounded him, the more he hoped in the God of mercies. Around the year 1200, Baldwin, Count of Flanders, who later became Emperor of Constantinople, had allied himself with the English against the French. He assembled a fairly considerable army and suddenly came to besiege the castle of Oisy. The soldiers whom John had placed in this fort to defend it were seized with fear, because their lord could not procure any help for them from h is other domai château d'Oisy Lordship of Jean, site of a miracle during a siege. ns. The army of Flanders surrounded them on all sides. But the man worthy of God, armed with faith, left the fort with three soldiers and his chaplain, went to the abbey of Vauxcelles, addressed the abbot, and said to him: "Lord Abbot, I entrust my castle of Oisy to you." The abbot, stunned by these words, replied: "Lord, what are you saying? You cannot defend it, and I, how could I do so? I cannot even protect my own house against the attacks of the enemies." John replied: "I want you to guard my castle for me." The abbot, not yet understanding his faith, was astonished more and more by his words. John, whose faith was always becoming firmer, said to him in the end: "I know that, if you wish, you can very well preserve my castle for me, and it can only be saved by you." Finally, the abbot, understanding what his faith desired, had a Mass of the Holy Spirit sung the next day by each priest. A fog so thick immediately rose from the earth that the count's men could no longer see one another. Therefore, in their stupor, they thought of taking flight; but the count restrained them and prevented them from executing their plan, until God, in reward for the faith of his servant, caused such an abundant rain to fall that it caused a great flood. The enemies fled in great haste and trembled for their lives.

John, understanding the utility and even the necessity of religious communities in Christian society, the work of regeneration they are called to perform, the spiritual and even temporal advantages they provide to the people, the salutary examples they give, and the abundant blessings they attract, showed himself holily prodigal, whether by making donations to existing communities or by founding new houses of prayer. As he had a tender devotion to Mary, the august Mother of God, he made, in 1202, several donations to the church of Blessed Mary of Cantimpré. He also showed himself generous toward the priory of Notre-Dame du Charme, of the Order of Fontevrault, in the diocese of Soissons. His munificence extended even to the capital of France. As he had lived in Paris for quite some time during his youth and his worldly life, he wished to contribute to a charitable establishment that was founded there around 1202. In 1203, he made two other donations: one to Val-Secret, an abbey of the Premonstratensian Order, in the diocese of Soissons; and the other to Jouy, an abbey of the Cistercian Order, in the diocese of Sens. That same year, he built at Montmirail, for his eldest daughter Elisabeth, the abbey of Mont-Dieu, which later took the tit le of Amour-Dieu. H abbaye du Mont-Dieu Abbey founded by Jean for his daughter Elisabeth. e wanted it to be a monument worthy of his power, his fortune, his piety, his tenderness, and his beloved daughter. He chose a very favorable location in the lower town and erected a spacious building on the Place Champeaux, opposite the ancient house of the bailiff, not far from the magnificent Pommesson gate, and on a high point from which the gaze wanders with enchantment into the western valley of the Petit-Morin.

Piety flourished in this holy house for several centuries, and Saint Vincent de Paul performed one of his greatest miracles there quite some time after his death, in 1720. Knowing the price of souls and knowing that they cost the entire blood of a God, and that saving one soul is worth more than gaining the entire universe, John imposed a sublime mission on his daughter and her companions; he wanted them to devote themselves to the education of young girls.

The Blessed John wished to follow the advice of Saint Paul in everything. This great Apostle calls the poor the Saints: "Relieve," he says, "the needs of the saints." Not only does he hasten to provide for their necessities, but he also gives them his heart; he takes part in all their sorrows, consoles them in their afflictions, revives them in their setbacks, visits them in their illnesses, loves them as his children, and venerates them as the most noble members of Jesus Christ. The alms he gives them is not a gift torn from avarice, but an effect of the purest charity. He strives above all to give as Saint Paul prescribes, that is to say, with simplicity. He does not seek the praises of men, but solely the glory of God and the relief of the unfortunate. He ensures that the left hand does not know what the right hand gives. His sweetest enjoyment is to pour his riches into the bosom of the unfortunate. What fills him with consolation is that he thereby acquires in heaven a treasure that will never be exhausted, that rust cannot gnaw, that thieves cannot steal from him, and that death itself will not take away from him. When faith animates charity, what wonders must spring from these two divine sources! Charity in John knows no bounds; it becomes the fullness of the law. Like the Apostle, he devotes and immolates himself entirely for his dear sick, who are for him sacred persons; he kneels before them, kisses their hands, and places his lips on their most hideous wounds.

Let us now cite some traits that the humility of the servant of God could not wrap in its veil. He loved to converse with the poor and preferred their company to that of the rich: he even had them eat with him. He one day received a singular reward for his charity. As he was in his town, named Crèvecœur, where he had gathered a great multitude of lords at his table, he had, according to his custom, admitted many poor people to the meal. When they were satisfied, one of them, who was blind, began to render a thousand thanks for the benefits with which John had showered him and, blessing God, he said: "You deserve to receive the blessing of the sovereign King, venerable John, you who have treated us so well today; for I have already received from you so many other favors that I could not recount them."

An officer of the house, astonished by these words of the blind man, approached him and asked him how his master could have provided him with so many goods. The blind man replied: "As I was a thief, a murderer, an adulterer, a sacrilegious person, as I was stained with many other crimes, and as I was disposed to commit even greater ones, your lord John, blessed by God and a very just judge, had my eyes torn out, which were the ordinary guides of my misdeeds. I thank him for it every day, for, by this act of justice, he withdrew my soul from the path of hell and delivered it from eternal death." The officer, who had heard this speech, hastened to share it with his master. The servant of God, greatly saddened by what he had just learned, rose from the table with such promptness that all the guests were surprised, prostrated himself at the feet of the blind man, and asked his pardon with great compunction of heart and while shedding tears. The blind man, quite confused, replied: "You have no reason, my lord, to ask my pardon. I beg you to believe that I am infinitely more obliged to you than you can conceive for this act of just severity that you exercised toward me; for if you had pardoned me when my crimes snatched from your hands the punishment that causes you pain, I would have been condemned to the gallows long ago, and my dried-up body would be swinging in the air at the mercy of the winds." This response of the blind man greatly consoled and edified the servant of God, who relieved his misery with abundant alms.

In 1207, he founded for the unfortunate a Hôtel-Dieu which he endowed richly. It was located between the great bridge of the Morin and the bridge of the meadow stream, in the Chaussée, a suburb of Montmirail and the diocese of Troyes. The church, under the invocation of Saint John the Evangelist, patron of the lord of Montmirail, occupied the eastern side; it was very remarkable for its construction. The bell tower was demolished in 1624 and replaced by private houses. The choir of the flames was converted into a barn. Nothing remains of the convent but the west wing; and even its interior is completely modified in a deplorable manner to house several households. The north wing no longer exists; some bathrooms have been built in its place.

Our Blessed one, after having laid down the shield he was accustomed to carry in the militia of the century, was not at all ashamed, in his apprenticeship of the militia of Christ, to carry the dead, and, like another Tobias, put all his care into rendering them the last duties. But the living were even dearer to him than the dead. Thus, he performed acts of charity toward them that were much more surprising. He carried the sick on his own shoulders wherever it was necessary and served them in everything with the most pious affection. What inspired this incredible ardor, this more than maternal tenderness, is that he saw Jesus Christ himself in each sick person. He approached them only with pious veneration.

As he took more disgust with the world every day, he reflected within himself on what he should do. A thought came to him, which he believed to be an inspiration from heaven. At that time, the Albigensians were spreading their errors in the south of France by fire and sword. To put an end to their devastations, Pope Innocent III was forced to have the crusade preached against these furious sectarians. The French nobility gathered in the provinces devastated by these heretics to shed their blood there. This war began around 1206. The lord of Montmirail resolved to take part in it. Wishing to take with him a large sum of money, in order to provide more abundantly for the needs of the poor during his journey, he left for the province of Cambrésis. He thought he would obtain seven thousand pounds from the sale of a certain portion of wood. But divine Providence permitted that John could not accomplish his pious design, because it destined him for a much more excellent militia, and where he would win infinitely more brilliant triumphs.

The crowning of John's charity was the care he lavished on the most abandoned, the most hideous, and the last of the miserable: the lepers. He opened all the treasures of his heart to them. The venerable servant of God, before taking the religious habit, had come to live in his castle of Oisy. There was gathered a great multitude of gentlemen, his vassals. He left this castle, accompanied by all these knights, to go to Aclimont, where some business he had to deal with called him. He met on his way, near the village called Sancy, twenty-five lepers. When these unfortunates learned that he was there, they were very joyful and began to solicit the benefits of his inexhaustible charity. John immediately jumped from his horse to the ground, eagerly took his money from the hands of the officer who was following him, left behind his entire escort, which was frightened by the foul odor of the lepers, and, burning with the fire of divine love, rushed with ardor into the midst of these miserable people. Then he knelt before each of them, devoutly kissed their hands, and gave alms to them all.

As he was one day traveling through the holy places, that is to say, the huts of the lepers, he met almost an army of knights who were of his family. Seeing him make his pious genuflections before the lepers, they all began to blame him. "Lord," they said to him, "as you are the head of our entire race and hold the first rank among us all, by the number of your dignities, you do things that are not fitting; for, by your conduct, worthy of all contempt, you are a shame to us who are your blood, and you cover us with confusion." The holy man replied to them: "May it please God, my beloved relatives, that I may succeed in the possession of the Lord Jesus by the path of any ignominy whatsoever!" Oh, words worthy of the admiration of all centuries! This world, for which the cross is an opprobrium and a folly, this world which is only vanity, which does not understand the mysteries of charity, nor all that comes from God, nor all that leads to God, this selfish, cowardly, corrupted, and corrupting world, could only inspire a sovereign disgust in John. Thus, this great servant of God sought more and more the means to leave it. He heard the voice of Jesus Christ who says: "If you want to be perfect, follow me." John wanted to follow him, whatever it might cost him. It was no longer enough for him to be a perfect Christian; he wanted to reach the highest degree of perfection that man can attain; he wanted to be a perfect religious.

As the war against the Albigensians was rekindling on all sides, John seized this opportunity and feigned a desire to take part in it. He devoted all his care to making preparations for his journey. How he rejoiced in his heart to be able to flee the fleeting dignities of the earth to merit the eternal glory of heaven! He therefore gathered his vassals to announce his departure, spoke to them of their salvation with unction, and urged them to make constant progress in virtue. He bade them farewell and embraced them all with the tenderest affection. Nothing was heard everywhere but sobs. The good lord took few companions with him and headed toward Longpont, an abbey of the Order of Cîteaux, to serve the Lord there. He was at first admitted only as a novice. He abandoned the land of Montmirail and several others to his wife. But he kept that of Oisy, to reserve for himself the ability to still make some pious donations, and above all to be able to repair all the wrongs, even involuntary ones, that he and his officers might have committed. His novitiate lasted two years.

His entry into religion was regarded as a baseness that dishonored his race and had no precedent. His practices of devotion and his excesses of charity had already earned him the censures of his relatives and the mockery of worldlings. But when it was known that instead of going to display his courage against the Albigensians, he had taken the religious habit, there was a universal outcry against him. His wife became furious, his children were transported with anger and could not heap enough outrages upon him. His friends considered him nothing more than a madman. The writers of the reign of Philip Augustus, Rigord, Le Breton, and Matthew Paris did not even wish to cite his name in their works, although they spoke quite amply of the other lords of the court of that era. John had covered himself with so much opprobrium in the eyes of his contemporaries that they would have considered themselves dishonored by even reporting the glorious actions of his early years. This was all he desired. He wanted to be reputed as nothing, to be called a fool, rejected as the filth of the earth, trampled underfoot, and forgotten by the whole world. Far from being shaken by the contempt, he said with the King-Prophet: "My heart has expected reproach and misery."

The first virtue that John practiced was the mortification of the body. This lord, who had inhabited sumptuous castles, who had been raised with such delicacy, whose table was always laden with the most exquisite dishes, and who drank only the finest wines, imposed upon himself an abstinence so astonishing that he shackled his appetite even in the vilest foods and refused to eat as much as nature might allow. He did not fail to pour cold water into his food, for fear of experiencing the slightest satisfaction in taking it. The abbot, having learned that he was indiscreetly inflicting overly rigorous abstinences upon himself, summoned him, reprimanded him strongly, and expressly ordered him to eat at least as much bread as he could. John saw himself bound by this command. For fear of falling into the sin of disobedience, he ate, not without extreme pain, the entire portion of bread presented to him that day, without leaving anything. But feeling that he could not bear the rigor of this prescription any longer, he went to find the abbot and begged him in a suppliant voice to revoke this order which exceeded his strength, or to moderate it in some way to make it easier to execute. The abbot replied: "As you ask me, I will limit myself to prescribing that you eat only one loaf a day. But for the rest, if you can eat more, do not fail to do so." John answered him: "I conjure you, as much as I can, do not leave me in the hands of my own will; but command rather absolutely." The abbot, overcome by his prayer, regulated what he would do henceforth, and John observed everything faithfully. As much as worldlings seek to flatter their bodies, so much does the servant of God study to mortify his; he even employs pious ruses.

Saint Augustine says: "It is something great to be faithful to God in small things, especially since self-love cannot attach itself to them, as it can to a great sacrifice." John, penetrated by this truth, seized every opportunity to mortify his senses. One presented itself that was very useful both for him and for the religious. He wanted to prove, as the Apostle says, that although he was still in the flesh, he did not walk according to the desires of the flesh. The religious went out of the convent one day to go to work; the servant of God, John, was with them. They encountered on their path the carcass of a dead animal, which spread an unbearable infection far and wide. Everyone held their hand or their sleeve before their nostrils to protect themselves: the charitable John wanted to render a service to the community, advanced toward the dead beast, and dragged it so far from the path that his brothers could no longer be bothered by it. This action, performed by a lord raised in delights, who considers himself the servant of all, and who overcomes all the repugnances of nature without hesitation, shows in him a great depth of holiness.

His patience in the face of opprobrium is even more admirable than his humility. God treated him according to the inclinations of his grace, fed him the bread of anguish, and made him receive insults in the places where he had appeared with the most magnificence. John was in Cambrai, of which he had once been lord. He had as a companion Gilon, cellarer of the convent of Vaux-celles, of the same Order of Cîteaux, which was founded by the lords of Oisy, his ancestors. They had the devotion to go visit a recluse. On the way, they arrived at a place where a large number of laborers were working in the city ditches. These wretches, seeing the two religious pass by, all began to jeer at them with a common voice. Surprised by this kind of greeting and quite ashamed, the cellarer quickened his pace. But John, disposed to suffer all affronts for Jesus Christ, turned toward the mockers and said to them: "I am the miserable John of Montmirail, a great sinner, who deserves all opprobrium, and who could never be covered with enough confusion. I conjure you, repeat your insulting cry against him for a long time."

These insults from unknown people prepared him to endure those of his own. The latter were as many tearing arrows that penetrated to the depths of his heart and became all the more useful to him. The servant of God had given as alms, to the convent of Longpont, a house located in the village called Gandelus. The custom then was that children had to consent to these kinds of donations by fathers and mothers, for fear that after the death of the donors, the donees would be troubled by the heirs. Now, John II, the eldest son of John of Montmirail, had refused his c onsent Jean II Eldest son of Jean, who violently opposed his religious life. to the donation of this house of Gandelus, and when his father had retired to Longpont, he had the impudence to hinder the religious in their possession. He did not allow them to exercise their rights in this house, nor even to make the most urgent repairs there. When the servant of God learned of all these vexations, he felt great sorrow. He went himself to Gandelus to repair the house, led workers with him, and began to work with them as their companion. He himself humbly carried on his own shoulders, to the top of the building, the tiles necessary to cover it. The son wanted to take revenge; which gave a new luster to the father's patience. John had also granted the small tithes to the church of Longpont. It was then the time to collect them. But the eldest son of John often prevented their collection by his servants and tormented the religious in a thousand ways. John was informed of this, and he came again to Gandelus to collect the tithe himself. Interposing himself like a wall between the monks, his brothers, and his son, he wanted to test if, out of respect for a father, John II would desist from his enterprise. Above all, he preferred to endure the injuries of his son than to let the religious be unjustly molested. He began to walk the streets and public squares, went from house to house to collect the tithe, and carried it himself in a hod on his shoulders.

He experienced yet another mortification, which was much more sensitive to him. Having had occasion to come to Montmirail in the company of the prior of Longpont, he went to his own house to lodge there, found the servants of his eldest son, and told them humbly that he only wanted to spend the night there. But these officers, seizing the opportunity, made a thousand impertinent excuses and refused him hospitality. The prior who accompanied him, seeing this affront, presented to John the shield of patience and said to him: "Do not be moved by this; the Lord came unto his own, and his own received him not." These words of the Gospel spread a divine balm in the soul of the servant of God, who rejoiced to be able to apply them to himself; he gave thanks to the Lord for them. The two religious withdrew, very satisfied to have made this spiritual gain, and were received by strangers with great veneration. Having been obliged another day to come to Montmirail for business, he presented himself again at his own house. A servant of the lady of the castle, formerly his wife, saw him coming and hastened to warn his mistress. Having received an answer from her own mouth, he returned to the servant of God and said to him: "My lady is in the bath, which is why you can neither see her nor speak to her." The man of God replied humbly: "May it please the Lord that the bath be salutary for her!" Driven away with such insolence by his own, John left the castle without opening his mouth to murmur, and withdrew. He continued his journey to the fort, which is called La Ferté-Gaucher, and presented himself at the home of his mother-in-law, who received him with honor and a joyful face.

John was gifted with such a robust constitution that he could have prolonged his life beyond ordinary limits; but, by the pious excesses of his mortifications, he shortened the days of his exile. In a few years, following the words of Wisdom, he traversed an immense career and amassed infinite merits for heaven. He crucified his flesh with so many austerities, he caused the carnal man to die within him so many times, that one can say of him that, after having emptied the cup of martyrdom, he went to drink from the river of eternal life. His death occurred in 1217, on September 29, a day dedicated to the memory of the Archangel Saint Michael. Hugh, his prior, and Gerard, a lay brother, had a revelation of his glory through a vivid light that they saw rising from a great infinity of candles to shine in the sky.

He is represented: 1st in knightly costume, wearing his full armor, sword at his side, helmet on his head with the visor raised; 2nd laying down his arms to take the habit of a penitent; 3rd lying down and dressed as a religious. Angels present him with palms and crowns.

[APPENDIX: CULT AND RELICS.]

The memory and relics of John of Montmirail, also called John the Humble, who died in the odor of sanctity in the Abbey of Longpont, have until now been the object of a constant cult. Scarcely had he been buried in the common cemetery when a large number of people were frequently seen coming to kneel at his tomb. Many miracles having successively occurred through the intercession of this pious religious, his body was raised from the earth and the grateful faithful surrounded with ex-votos the places in the monastery where his bones were subsequently deposited.

In the Annals of Cîteaux by Ange Maurique, it is read that, in 1236, that is to say only nineteen years after the death of John, the populations, full of confidence in his power before the Most High, requested that a special feast be established in his honor. Pope Gregory IX, who reigned fr om 1227 to Grégoire IX Pope who attested to the miracles of Bruno. 1241, ordered inquiries into the holy life of John and the faith that could be placed in the wonders attributed to him. Maurique affirms that the office and feast requested were granted by this Pontiff. What is at least certain is that the calendars, missals, menologies, or martyrologies of Cîteaux and the Benedictines indicate September 29 as the day consecrated to his memory.

Around his tomb burned day and night lamps and candles, numbering thirteen or fourteen. On a very ancient painting placed nearby were written antiphons and prayers, taken from his office, which pilgrims recited.

The cult of John of Montmirail grew even more when, around 1250 or 1251, one of his daughters, Marie of Montmirail, Lady of La Fère and Saint-Gobain, wife of Enguerrand III, Lord of Coucy, erected for him, on the left side of the sanctuary, an elegant and magnificent openwork mausoleum, adorned with slender columns in the Gothic style of the period.

Since 1634, when Pope Urban VIII (1623-1644) decreed that beatifications and canonizations would be reserved for the Holy See, the bishops of Soissons have always been petitioning the court of Rome to obtain the confirmation of the cult of John of Montmirail. The official report drawn up by Simon Legras on May 2, 1639, in the presence of the religious, and among others the chronicler Maldrac, testifies both to the holiness of the Blessed John and to the desire to have his cult and feast recognized and approved by the Holy See. King Louis XIII was pleased to join his prayers to those of the religious and the bishop, and to this effect, he addressed a motivated letter to Pope Innocent X (1644-1655), asking that His Holiness grant the religious of Longpont permission to say the Mass and celebrate the office and feast of John of Montmirail on September 27, with an octave.

In the official report drawn up in several sessions in 1657 by the Bishop of Soissons, Charles de Bourlon (1633-1685), it is said that the prelate traveled to the Abbey of Longpont to perform the translation of the holy body of the Blessed John of Montmirail... and six other bodies. The parchment, enclosed in the reliquary containing his head, bore these words: *Caput sancti Joannis de Monte-Mirabili*. While showing this head to the people, the bishop said that he was a man of holy life and probity, and that because of his good life, he was believed to be a Saint. And he gave this head to be kissed by several infirm, sick, and others. He added that his relics could not be exposed for veneration, that it was necessary to suspend and wait... until it had been maturely and holily deliberated upon what is to be done.

In 1677, the prior of the Abbey of Longpont, having been sent to Rome for the affairs of his Order under the pontificate of Innocent XI (1676-1689), presented his request for authorization to celebrate the office of John of Montmirail. He was told that it was necessary to first establish proof of his canonization, and that the official report of Bishop Simon Legras could not serve to hasten the authorization of the cult because he had not acted by virtue of a delegation from the Apostolic See.

In the official report of Dom Brulart in 1697, John is qualified as a Saint. In the Benedictine year, he is given the title of Confessor.

Mgr de Simony, in 1845, while having the relics of the Blessed John returned to the Duchess of Doudesuville, showed himself to be very reserved: "These relics," he wrote, "must not be honored with any cult, given that the Church has not yet authorized it by a canonical judgment."

Mgr de Garsignies (1848-1860) was not as moderate. On October 1, 1859, he addressed some words to the gathered parish "on the importance," he said, "and the consequence of our action, as a confirmation of the immemorial cult rendered to the Blessed John of Montmirail, we have ourselves venerated these distinguished relics, with the members of our clergy present at the ceremony, have then sealed them with our seal and have replaced them in the church, reserving for ourselves the right to solicit from the court of Rome the decree bearing confirmation of the immemorial cult."

Immediately after, work began on the drafting and sending of the petition, which was sent to His Holiness Pius IX on September 1, 1860, accompanied by a file of one hundred and sixty-two pages in-1°, and containing twenty-one documents relating to the Blessed John: official reports, inquiries, extracts from chronicles and lives of Saints, letters, charters, expert judgments, and various other information.

In the Abbey of Longpont, the relics of John of Montmirail or Montmirail have always been possessed without interruption. The burial of the body took place first in the common cemetery; but the miracles that occurred at his tomb determined that he be raised from the earth, in the presence of the Abbot of Cercamp. (This ceremony was often regarded in those ancient times as equivalent to a canonization.) The body was placed in a marble tomb that was fixed into the inner wall of the cloister (1217 to 1231). One of his bones was taken to Voutiennes (Voïtes), which is named in ancient titles as the Valley of Miracles. Great honors were rendered to this relic, and inappreciable benefits were derived from it.

The second translation took place around 1250, in the presence of several archbishops and bishops, when Marie of Montmirail, his daughter, erected a magnificent mausoleum for him in the choir.

The third translation brought to Longpont a more considerable number of prelates, abbots, and people. The reliquary of the Blessed John was placed behind the high altar among the other holy relics of the abbey.

But, as pilgrims could not easily, in this sacred place, satisfy their devotion and approach the reliquary as often and as closely as they desired, the religious decided that it would henceforth rest in a cupboard in the sacristy. His bones were then enclosed in a long wooden box, covered with a sheet of copper, morocco leather, gilded nails, and numerous medallions with the coats of arms of the great families of the time. The head was set apart in a gilded wooden reliquary, which disappeared in the revolutionary turmoil of 1793. This is the fourth translation.

Despite the precautions taken by the religious to preserve their precious deposit, the remains of John of Montmirail ran the danger more than once of being stolen or profaned: in 1355 by the English; in 1414 by Pierre de Tours at the head of his soldiers, already masters of Soissons; in 1567 by the Huguenots. But God always permitted that they could be saved from the rapacity or impiety of the profaners, sometimes by having the abbey guarded by strong detachments of infantry and cavalry, sometimes by putting the reliquary in safety in a neighboring fortress (La Ferté-Milon).

In 1639, at the request of the religious, the Bishop of Soissons, Simon Legras (1623-1656), the same who crowned Louis XIV, proceeded to the opening of the reliquary as well as the recognition of the bones and the examination of the documents that established their authenticity.

In 1657, Bishop Charles de Bourbon, nephew of the previous one and initially his coadjutor, continued what his uncle had begun and made a new recognition of the relics of the Blessed John. A doctor of medicine named the bones found in the reliquary (tibia, humerus, shoulder blade, ischium, cubitus, clavicle, vertebra, and several others still).

The relics of the Blessed John were again examined in 1697 by the visitor of the Order of Cîteaux, Dom Brulart, Abbot of Vaucler. We extract verbatim from the official report the following details:

— Dom Brulart had drawn from the gilded wooden reliquary, suspended under the vault of the tomb of Saint John of Montmirail... a cassette or chest of wood, covered with painted leather, two feet two inches long and loaded on all sides with ancient enameled shields, and had the said chest opened, in which, following and in accordance with the official reports of the Lords Bishops of Soissons, Messire Simon Legras and Messire Charles Bourbon, of the years 1639 and 1657, were found bones of the Saint John of Montmirail, decently arranged and wrapped in taffeta and a very clean linen, and above it a purse, in which was enclosed a double parchment charter, of ancient writing, which was taken to Paris and presented to Father Dom Jean Mabillon... and on the 25th of the said month and year, everything was returned to the state in which it had been found; and the said cassette was returned to the gilded wooden reliquary from which it had been drawn. In faith of which, etc. »

The Abbey of Longpont remained in peaceful possession of these relics until the French Revolution. At this disastrous time when everything related to the cult was stolen, broken, demolished, burned, or profaned, one had to have serious fears about the fate of the remains of the Blessed John.

It was a lay sacristan of the abbey, named Lebeau, who saved them. Affecting the most exalted revolutionary sentiments, he was appointed mayor of the town, which gave him every facility to hide, in concert with some municipal officers, the reliquary of the Blessed in one of the vaults of the conventual house, without arousing the suspicions of the demagogues. Upon the restoration of the cult, the sacristy having been designated to serve as a church after the destruction of the magnificent basilica, Lebeau hastened to return the reliquary to the clergyman in charge of serving the parish of Longpont.

In 1839, Abbé Lebrun, then parish priest of Coccy and Longpont, having obtained authorization from Mgr de Simony, Bishop of Soissons (1825-1848), opened the reliquary and found everything entirely in accordance with what had been mentioned in the official report of 1697.

In 1845, the same Mgr de Simony had given to the Duchess of Doudesuville and the Duchess of Liancourt four small bones, including two teeth, held in a portion of the lower jaw, and two others a little stronger.

In 1855, in concert with M. Carneau, parish priest, the owner of the castle, Count Henri de Montesquieu-Fezensac and his son, Viscount Fernand de Montesquieu, took care of the restoration of the reliquary. The relics were removed momentarily and duly covered with several seals. The small chest (seventy-one centimeters long by eighteen wide) was recognized by skilled antiquarians "as being a work executed in Limoges, towards the end of the reign of Saint Louis, retaining its primitive physiognomy and having undergone no subsequent alteration." — "The enameled cushions, fifty in number, placed on the four faces of the reliquary, represent the coats of arms of the royal family of Saint Louis and the greatest personages of that era, such as Saint Louis, Queen Blanche of Castile, Queen Margaret of Provence, the Count of Poitiers, brother of Saint Louis, the Duke of Burgundy, the Count of Dreux, the Lord of Coucy, Raoul de Neale, Count of Soissons, the Lord of Montmirail, etc."

Finally, on October 1, 1859, Mgr Cardon de Garsignies (1848-1860), ninety-fourth Bishop of Soissons, having traveled to Longpont, recognized the identity and authenticity of the relics of John of Montmirail, closed and sealed the long cassette in which these bones have been preserved for six centuries, enclosed the said cassette in the gilded wooden reliquary that had contained it since 1657, and replaced it in the church, where everyone can easily see and revere it.

Taken from the Acta Sanctorum: of his Life, written by the Rev. Fr. Machault: from the History of the Blessed John, by the Abbé Bellet, and from local Notes due to M. Conguet, of the chapter of Soissons.