Saint Savin of Barcelona

Savin, upon whom Providence had particular designs, suddenly felt the plan arise in his heart to go and visit his uncle Hentilius, Count of Poitiers. His mother, who knew the high renown of the Count, one of the greatest lords of France, easily understood that a journey to that country could be very profitable to the heir of the comital power of Barcelona, by enabling him to study the customs of that great nation, and to initiate himself, under such a distinguished relative, into all the secrets of an administration that he would later have to exercise himself. The mere thought of being separated for a long time from the sole object of her tender solicitude must have been very painful to her maternal heart; but she knew how to place the interest of her son above the sentiments of nature, and consented to this journey, which was, alas! to cost her so many tears.

Savin departed, his heart broken with the regret of leaving his mother in desolation; but, as he was obeying grace much more than his own inclination, he congratulated himself, subsequently, for having had the courage to break so resolutely the only tie that could have held him in the world. He therefore separated from his mother by addressing to her a farewell that he presumed would be the last. As his intention was not to make this journey to learn the customs of the world, nor to satisfy his curiosity, he carefully avoided the contagious air of the large cities that would naturally be on his path; he sought by preference the solitudes where the disciples of Saint Benedict had founded their monasteries, in order to learn from them the true science that makes Saints. He crossed the County of Foix and passed through the small town of Le Mas-d'Azil, as the old legends tell us, and finally arrived in Poitiers, at his uncle's home.

H entilius Hentilius Count of Poitiers and uncle of Saint Savin. soon knew how to appreciate the merit and the precocious intelligence of his nephew; and, without taking age into account, he wished to give him an unequivocal mark of the highest confidence, by charging him with the education of his son, the future heir of his power. This blessed child could, in fact, find no better master to form at the same time his mind to science, his heart to the chivalric bravery of the era, and his soul to the most solid piety. A position of such high distinction for a young man changed nothing in the initial sentiments of Savin. An enemy of softness and superior to the attacks of vanity, he divided his time between prayer, the duties of his station, and the care of the poor. He lived with simplicity; his fasts were rigorous; his table frugal. Loaded with the benefits of the Count, he could have given himself the pleasure of luxury and brilliant equipages; but he reduced all his expenses, in order to increase his surplus, which he employed entirely in works of charity. "Virtue in an ignorant man," says an author, "appears a mark of imbecility in the eyes of the impious; but when virtue and science are united in the same man, that imposes upon the most wicked." Thus the young Savin, who possessed both, had no trouble attracting the esteem and sympathy of the officers who were in the service of his uncle. It is in this honorable post that he devoted all his time and all his zeal to enlightening the mind of his cousin, by teaching him the purest doctrine. He knew how to penetrate this young heart with the sentiments of a sincere piety, which he inspired in him by his discourses and even more by his examples.

The son of Hentilius, docile to the voice of such a good master, made rapid progress, especially in the practice of virtue, which his cousin knew so well how to make him love. Savin, with that sweet speech that persuades and draws, sometimes painted for him the mysterious charms of retreat and the pure joys of contemplation; at other times, he represented to him the dangers so frequent that one encounters in the world, where, moreover, there is no situation that does not have its pains and its bitterness, where happiness is never exempt from worries and sorrows. Yes, everything is a danger to virtue in the world, said Savin: danger in birth, which usurps privileges and dispensations contrary to the spirit of Christianity; danger in elevation, where one is exposed to base flatteries and false praises; danger in business, in employments, where one must often choose between conscience and fortune; danger in friendship itself, where one sometimes finds only ingratitude, perfidy, treason; danger in examples, where vice loses its horror by the number of those who advocate it; danger in riches, which bring about ostentation, luxury, gambling, corrupting pleasures; danger in poverty, when it is not Christianly supported.

All these dangers presented themselves at once to Savin's imagination. "Let us leave," he said to his cousin, "let us leave the world, let us withdraw, let us flee, let us depart from Babylon, let us save our weak virtue from the contagious air that one breathes there. How could we constantly observe the law of God in the midst of a world where everything encourages its violation; where vice surrounds and presses from all sides? Pleasure presents itself everywhere, approved by example, applauded by maxims, consecrated by customs and even by propriety. Happy are the souls full of generosity who make to God the sacrifice of all worldly enjoyments! Within our hearts is enclosed the dangerous hearth, the hidden fire of lust; the slightest breath is enough to ignite it. Who will guarantee us against the perils of a world where crime is almost necessary? The religious state, the cloister. Behind this rampart, which we shall place between men and ourselves, we will no longer have to fear the contagion of scandals and the maxims of a corrupted world." While Savin spoke thus, his cousin listened to him as one listens to an oracle; and these words made such an impression on his heart that, yielding to the imperious voice of an irresistible vocation, saying farewell to brilliant destinies and the sweetness of family, breaking with the past and renouncing the future, the young pupil of Savin disappeared like a fugitive from his father's house. Honors, riches, friends, relatives, he had left everything to seek poverty and profound humility in a cloister. It was in a monastery dedicated to Saint Martin, near Poitiers, that he withdrew to follow the Rule of Saint Benedict.

Who could give an idea of the cruel grief of the countess, suddenly deprived of a son, the object of all her tenderness and maternal pride? This desolate mother immediately went to find Savin. She threw herself at his feet; she begged him, with heartbreaking pain, to help her find as soon as possible this beloved son, who had been entrusted to his care to make him worthy of the high destinies to which his birth called him, and not to tear him away from his family in this manner. Savin therefore had to leave without delay, and go to urge his cousin to leave the monastery to return to his father's house. He therefore left for the monastery and called for his cousin; but, far from entering into the views of the countess, he encouraged the young religious to persevere in his initial resolution. Moreover, to his advice he added example; that same day, one saw in this monastery the two cousins, sons of two counts, clothed in the holy coarse habit of the Order of Saint Benedict, to whom the Lord had said: "Come, follow me." And for three years, in the austerities of the cloister, these two young friends who could have, surrounded by the honors of the world, given orders to their vassals, devoted themselves, for the love of Jesus Christ, to obedience, silence, and poverty.

But this was not enough for Savin, to whom the Spirit of God inspired the desire to embrace the holy rigors of the solitary life. He confided this idea to the abbot of the monastery, who at first dared neither to blame nor to approve such an inspiration, for fear of thwarting the designs of God, and perhaps also to keep for some time longer a religious who edified the whole community by his great exactitude in observing the smallest rules, and who gave the example of all virtues. However, Savin's perseverance triumphed over all delays and obstacles. One day at last, he obtained permission to leave with only one traveling companion. He directed his steps toward the mountains of Bigorre, abandoning himself to the guidance of divine Providence, which fixed the end of his pilgrimage in the beautiful valley of the Lavedan , at th Lavedan Pyrenean valley where Savin lived as a hermit. e foot of the Pyrenees. While passing through Tarbes, he did not forget to go and bow with respect before the bishop who then occupied the see of Saint Justin and Saint Faustus. He explained his design to him and asked for his approval and blessing. Thirty-six kilometers from this city, on the slopes of the mountain overlooking the Lavedan valley, was a

monastery of the Order of Saint Benedict, which had been founded on the ruins of an ancient castle or fort, of a very remote date, perhaps from the Gallo-Roman era, as seems to be indicated by the name of Palatium-Émilianum, which remained with it until the death of Saint Savin.

After having received the blessing and instructions of the bishop of the diocese, it was toward this solitude that our pilgrim directed his march. He presented himself at the monastery, where he was cordially welcomed by Forminius, who was its abbot. But, knowing well already that the monastic life was not severe enough for him, given the designs of perfection that the Lord inspired in him, Savin resolved to go deeper into the mountains to embrace the austere life of the hermit there. For greater certainty, he opened his heart to Forminius, sharing with him the project that had brought him to these places. The abbot, recognizing in his guest the imprint of a divine vocation, hastened to support him in his resolution; and, unable to keep such a precious treasure with him, he wished at least to retain him in a place quite nearby; he led him three or four kilometers from the monastery. They fixed their choice on the plateau called Pouey -Aspé. It Pouey-Aspé Mountain plateau where the hermitage of Savin was located. is from this plateau that one can cast one's gaze into the valley to contemplate its richness and beauty. But this thought must have been foreign to Savin's choice. What made this site preferable to any other for him was that at a certain distance, opposite, above the small parish of Villelongue, between two rocks that cover a solitary valley, he perceived a hermitage that had been sanctified long before by a young Spaniard, Saint Orens. It was therefore on the plateau of Pouey-Aspé that Savin resolved to spend his life, in front of the precious and touching memories that made his former compatriot live again in his eyes, so to speak. He first set to work to build the cell that was indispensable to him; but it was hardly more than a shelter, still poorly secured, against the ferocity of the beasts of the neighboring forests. The construction of this modest hut, which was only seven or eight feet long by four or five wide, and which was to be more of a harsh prison than an ordinary dwelling, must not have cost our Saint much time. What gave him the most trouble was the transport of materials, because of the difficulty of the paths, which were almost inaccessible. Abbot Forminius, who had undoubtedly helped him in this work, left our hermit in solitude and returned to his monastery, delighted to have in the neighborhood a man of such great holiness. He often went to visit him to be edified by the example of his entirely heavenly virtues.

Savin, finding himself still too well lodged in his dwelling, which nevertheless deserved the name of a miserable hovel rather than a cell, invented a refinement of mortification. He dug a pit, seven feet long and five feet deep, where he buried himself alive, thus taking for a bed a veritable tomb, in which water seeped from all sides, especially in rainy weather. Forminius, having returned to visit him some time after their first separation, remained quite surprised to see that Savin had dug this grave for himself without having previously manifested the intention, and he asked him the motive for this exaggeration of penance: "I alone know myself," replied the hermit, "and I alone must measure the penalty to the extent of my faults. Everyone must do what he can; I do what I must: ut potes, fac quælibet, ego feci quod expedit." There, as once Elijah on Mount Carmel, our Saint gave himself up to prayer, to contemplation, and to the harshest practices of a mortified life. It would be difficult to express to what point he carried the spirit of prayer and with what zeal he embraced the most rigorous austerities. His vigils were long and his fasts almost continuous. His most ordinary occupation was contemplation. Clad in a simple robe, which miraculously lasted for the space of thirteen years, he walked barefoot on the sharp points of the rocks, even during the most rigorous season. Alone in this wild and often frozen retreat, where his cell, trembling under the continual violence of the winds, threatened to expose him defenseless to the voracity of the ferocious beasts that abounded in the neighboring forests, he kept his soul inaccessible to all human fear, entirely absorbed in the love of God and all burning with the desire to be united forever to his beloved. He would have taken poison rather than be guilty of a lie, says the legend. He regarded swearing as a sacrilege. He was not sheltered from the attacks of the demon; but aided by the grace of God, he overcame, through prayer and patience, the temptations that came to besiege him and distract him from his holy contemplations. Although Savin was, in truth, occupied only with the spiritual progress of his soul, physical needs were sometimes keenly felt; and as, during the great heat of summer, the waters that flowed from the crevices of the rocks would dry up around his cell, the ardor of thirst forced him to go a little further to draw the water that was necessary for him. He then had to pass through the meadow of a certain Chromatius, who lived in the small village of Uz, which is found about two kilometers from the old hermitage. One day when our Saint was crossing thi s meadow t Chromatius Landowner punished and subsequently healed by the saint. o reach the spring that provided his drink, the inhumane owner wanted at least to make him pay dearly for this slight relief. He ordered a man of his household to go and immediately chase away this too bold solitary, who had not feared to enter his property. This savage order was only too well executed. The servant, after having insulted the Saint, even forgot himself to the point of striking him brutally. But God, who sometimes suffers the just to be tested by the wicked, also wishes on certain occasions, when He judges it appropriate in His wisdom, to take up the defense of the oppressed innocent; and then He lets fall upon the crime the full weight of His curse, in order to make us understand that His all-powerful justice always brings, sooner or later, the glorification of virtue and the triumph of innocence. A providential punishment suddenly weighed upon these two wicked beings who had offended God Himself in one of His dearest servants, and came to prove to them that one does not always insult virtue with impunity. The one who had struck the Saint was instantly possessed by the demon, while the master lost, at that very moment, the use of his eyes. Savin, whose charity was immense, was distressed to see that he was the cause, although a very innocent one, of this double misfortune. He immediately fell to his knees and begged the Lord to be willing to return good for evil to this wretch who had just treated him so unworthily. His prayers disarmed divine vengeance: the servant was at that very hour delivered from the demon that possessed him, and he could not help but recognize that he owed his deliverance to Savin himself, whom he had just outraged and beaten so cruelly. But the master, Chromatius, who had ordered the outrage, remained blind for a long time yet, until he was, as will be seen later, cured in his turn by the merits of the Saint whom he had wanted to remove from his lands in such a brutal manner. As a result of all these circumstances, Savin decided to no longer go to draw water from that fountain. Like a second Moses, putting all his trust in God, he struck the rock with his staff, and immediately a trickle of living water gushed forth, which still flows, but quite weakly: one would say that this spring wanted to follow the decline of the naive simplicity, the pure faith, and the evangelical fervor of our first Christians. Beside this miraculous fountain is found, carved into the rock, a small niche which one reaches by means of two or three stone steps. Savin, who was not unaware that one cannot truly love God without loving one's neighbor, had a tender charity for all men. He carried them all, so to speak, in his heart. He would have willingly sacrificed his life to assist them, especially spiritually. No longer able to share his riches, since he had stripped himself of everything, he at least opened his cell like his heart to all the unfortunate who came to visit him to find some consolation near him. He worked, through his exhortations, to destroy in their souls the reign of sin, in order to establish there that of justice. Ingratitude, even bad treatment, as we have just seen, never discouraged his inexhaustible charity. He looked upon men as sick people more worthy of compassion than of anger. He recommended them to God in the silence of his retreat, and ceaselessly solicited His mercy in their favor. Never did any of those who came to see him leave without having obtained, through his intercession, either health of body or some grace even more precious for his soul. It would be very difficult to report here all the miracles performed by this illustrious Saint. One reads in his Office, composed by the religious who resided at the monastery near his cell, that he had performed a great number of miracles by letters. Tradition, which has always loved to perpetuate in this country the memory of the wonders performed by our holy hermit, is recorded in two paintings with compartments, painted on wood and rightly admired by connoisseurs. One sees there the main features of the life of Saint Savin. A priest, who was going to fulfill some function of his ministry, had to cross the Gave de Cauterets at a point near Pierrefitte. During the crossing, at this very dangerous moment, the horse was overturned, and the priest himself fell into the torrent. He was threatened with being soon engulfed, if not crushed between the rocks carried by the force of the waters which, having become furious because of the melting snows, rolled with a roar enormous blocks detached from the neighboring mountains. In such pressing danger, the priest nevertheless had enough calm left to think of putting all his trust in God and to recommend himself to the prayers of the solitary of Poney-Aspé. Suddenly, the priest found himself as if pushed toward the shore, which he reached safe and sound. He saw with astonishment, on that same bank, his horse saved miraculously like himself. Convinced that he owed his salvation only to the prayers of Saint Savin, and full of gratitude for this signal benefit, he immediately undertook the ascent to the hermitage to go and thank his savior. A poor mother, living in the valley itself, and who was called Gaudentia, was in desolation seeing that her late breast refused the necessary nourishment to her little child, whom she nevertheless wanted to nurse herself. After having uselessly exhausted all the means to which she could naturally have recourse, she turned her eyes only toward God; but, recognizing her unworthiness, she resolved to go and implore the protection of Saint Savin. She therefore took her child in her arms, and, full of confidence, she undertook, accompanied by her husband, the pilgrimage of Poney-Aspé. There, with tears in her eyes, and presenting to Savin the innocent and frail creature, she begged him to be willing to save the object of all her sorrow and tenderness. The Saint, touched by compassion, began to pray like a second Elisha, and immediately God restored to the mother what nature had for so long refused her. From that moment, Gaudentia saw her breast give her in abundance the milk that was to nourish her child. Savin was so inflamed with the love of God that one evening, to dispel the darkness of his cell, he only had to bring near his chest a small piece of candle that he held in his hand; the flame communicated itself to it immediately, and, by a double miracle, this torch lit the whole night without being consumed.

The holy hermit, feeling one day that the end of his pilgrimage in this valley of tears had finally come, sent someone to warn Forminius of the extremity in which he found himself. The abbot of the monastery was urgently requested to come and see Savin that very day, to assist him in his final moments, and to give him his blessing once more. The abbot, no doubt detained by duties that could not be delayed, replied to the messenger that he would only go to see the holy recluse the next day. Moreover, two of his religious, Sylvien and Flavien, had been assisting the sick hermit in his cell for some days, and he was believed to be in good convalescence. Saint Savin dispatched a second messenger to Forminius, with a request to come and see him during the day, adding that he would have a more pressing occupation the next day. The Saint meant by this to allude to his death. However, Forminius believed he could wait; but he was mistaken.

During the thirteen years he had spent in solitude, the Saint had had only one goal: that of edifying and sanctifying the Lavedan valley; his vows, his prayers, and his macerations constantly tended toward this unique end. Thus, before dying, he wished to choose for himself a successor who would have as an inheritance the continuation of this work of charity which was that of his heart. After disposing of the little he had and giving his final advice to the monks who were assisting him, Saint Savin thought only of preparing himself for the supreme happiness of receiving, for the last time, the bread of angels which was to serve as his viaticum. Then, with his hands stretched toward heaven, his eyes fixed on the image of his Savior, he fell into the sleep of peace while rendering his beautiful soul to his Creator.

The funeral knell of the bells of the monastery and of the parish church of Saint-Jean announced to the inhabitants of the valley that Savin was no more. Throughout the Lavedan, there was only a general cry of sorrow and regret: the friend and benefactor of the country, the consoler of the afflicted, a holy hermit, had just been taken from the earth, which he had edified by so many virtues and penance. As soon as Forminius had acquired the sad certainty of Savin's death, he gave his orders to have the mortal remains of this great servant of God transported to the monastery, whom he already regarded as a treasure of very precious relics; and, while preparations were being made to obey him, he prepared himself, as well as all his religious, to go and receive these holy remains at the entrance of the village, with all the pomp and honors of the Church.

## CULT AND RELICS.

Saint Savin received burial in the very monastery of Palais-Émilien, where the populations flocked from all sides to accompany the mortal remains of the holy hermit to their final resting place and to contemplate them one last time. An authentic miracle, which occurred even before his body had been placed in the tomb, proves that one does not place one's trust in vain in the protection of the Saints whom God has just taken from the earth.

That cruel neighbor who had so indignantly caused our hermit to be outraged, and whom we left under the blow of the divine vengeance that suddenly struck him with blindness, Chromatius, finally recognized his fault; and, full of repentance as much as of confidence, he had himself led to the very place where the Saint's body was to pass while crossing the village of Uz. When the moment came, Chromatius was warned; he approached the coffin trembling; he touched it with confidence, praying to the Saint to be willing to forgive his brutality of the past, and immediately his eyes reopened miraculously to the light. The whole procession shouted with admiration and joy.

The office of the Saint consecrates the truth of this fact, and the painting placed by the care of the monks in the basilica eternalizes its memory; one can still see today, on the facade of a house in Uz, in front of which the convoy stopped, a niche with the statue of the Saint, in memory of this same miracle.

Later, the precious body of Saint Savin was solemnly deposited at the back of the great apse of the church that replaced the Palais-Émilien. It is this beautiful Romanesque-style church that one still sees today, and which has earned the distinction of being classified among the State's historical monuments.

The local inhabitants, full of gratitude and veneration for the memory of the holy anchorite, had a chapel built on the very site of his hermitage, and removed the name Villahencer from their commune, to give it that of Saint-Savin, which has remained with it ever since. This chapel, which has passed through so many centuries and received so many pilgrimages, having eventually fallen into ruins, has been recently rebuilt.

One also preserves, as relics, a skullcap and a comb which, according to a pious and respectable tradition, had belonged to Savin. One still keeps in the church a silver-plated copper reliquary, which contains some bones of the illustrious solitary. It is exposed, on certain feast days, to the veneration of the faithful, and it is carried in procession, within the parish, on the Sunday that falls within the octave of the Saint's feast. The feast is celebrated on October 11.

The rumor of the miracles performed at the tomb of Saint Savin, which served for a long time as an altar, in accordance with the customs of the first centuries, attracted a crowd of pilgrims from all the surrounding areas who came to implore the support of such a powerful protector to obtain some particular grace from God. And even today, after so many revolutions and upheavals, despite the indifference of the century in matters of religion, how many Christian women still come to kneel beside the Saint's tomb, to ask for the conversion of a husband who spends his life without religious practices, the preservation of a cherished child whom a disease is devouring, or who finds himself, far from his family, exposed to the fury of storms, to the perils of combat! Many foreigners come, every year, from thermal establishments, to ask, through the intercession of Saint Savin, for some particular grace for themselves or for those who are dear to them.

One also comes sometimes from very far away to ask that the holy Sacrifice be celebrated in the church where his holy relics rest, with the firm hope of thus more surely obtaining a very special favor that one desires. Sometimes, it is the birth of a son or the happy delivery of a wife who is about to become a mother; sometimes it is the grace of knowing one's own vocation, about which one has only obscurities or doubts; sometimes it is the healing of a dangerously ill person, whom one would like at all costs to preserve still.

As Saint Savin had begun his religious career in Poitiers, in the monastery of Ligugé, where he had followed his cousin to take his vows and to consummate his generous renunciation of the most beautiful hopes that awaited him in the world, Mgr Pie, Bishop of Poitiers, wishing to give a public and striking mark of his veneration for the relics of the blessed solitary, went, in 1851, to make a pilgrimage to his tomb. M. Flurin, who was then parish priest, offered him some relics of the Saint, which the pious bishop accepted with the deepest gratitude.

On May 11, 1850, Mgr Laurence, Bisho p of Tarbes, Mgr Laurence Bishop of Tarbes who oversaw the opening of the tomb in 1850. wishing to ensure whether the Saint's relics had been respected by the revolutionary vandalism of '93, had his tomb opened in the presence of a numerous clergy. After a religious examination, it was noted that the tomb had remained in the state described in 1634 by F. Gérard, visitor of the Congregation of Saint-Maur for the province of Aquitaine. The relics were then placed on the high altar and exposed to the veneration of the faithful, after which, having been sealed with the bishop's seal, they were returned to the tomb.

We have extracted this biography from a small brochure entitled: Vie de saint Savin, anachorète du Lacedon, by M. l'abbé Abbadie, parish priest of Saint-Savin. Tarbes, 1861.