Saint Bernard of Abbeville

Pressed by the desire to fulfill the vows he had long cherished, he left his homeland, which he was never to see again, and set out for Poitou with three companions of his own age, animated by the same sentiments. On their way, they encountered King Philip I; Bernard drew a favorable omen from this and exclaimed: "Since we have found an earthly king without seeking him, we must foresee that we shall know how to find the King of heaven, who is the object of all our aspirations." Upon arriving in Poitiers (1066), they inquired about the monastic houses of Aquitaine where religious regularity flourished best. They were directed, two leagues away, to th e monastery of Saint-Cypri monastère de Saint-Cyprien Monastery in Poitiers where Bernard began his monastic life. en, built by Pepin, King of Aquitaine, and then directed by Raymond II, whose reputation was so great that he had become one of the oracles of the provincial councils.

Bernard, after having taken the habit and received the monastic tonsure, advanced rapidly on the path of perfection.

A portion of his nights was devoted to the study of the Holy Scripture. It happened once that sleep overcame his will: Bernard, as he fell asleep, let slip the candle he held in his hand. The torch fell upon the sacred pages of the Bible, but, while consuming itself entirely, it did not burn a single leaf.

Around the year 1076, there was a desire to revive monastic disciplin e at the Abbey of Sai abbaye de Saint-Savin Abbey reformed by Bernard. nt-Savin, where the rule had become singularly relaxed. Gervais, a monk of Saint-Cyprien, was designated to carry out this reform; but he only consented to become Abbot of Saint-Savin on the condition that Bernard, in his capacity as prior, would take charge of the spiritual reform.

His wish was granted, but unfortunately, harmony did not reign long between the two religious men. Gervais, too preoccupied with the desire to enrich his community, wanted to acquire a neighboring church; Bernard recognized this as a form of simony and opposed the transaction. Gervais, seeing his plans fail, resigned his functions and retired, full of anger, to a dwelling he had built with the funds of Saint-Savin, near the monastery of Saint-Cyprien.

Bernard, left to himself, was therefore obliged from then on to provide for the temporal needs of the community, while continuing to watch over its spiritual progress. Far from recognizing this tireless activity, some bad religious men found in it a pretext for insults; one of them even went from verbal abuse to physical assault. God took it upon Himself to avenge His servant, who saw in this only an occasion to humble himself and to forgive. The culprit was struck with sudden death, and those who might have been tempted to imitate his insubordination then returned to themselves, henceforth bowing a docile head under the yoke of the rule.

Gervais was among the abbots who answered the call of Pope Urban II and took part in the crusade of 1096. Mounted on a donkey and accompanied by numerous crusaders, he was heading toward the city of Jerusalem when a lion rushed upon him and devoured him in front of his terrified companions.

That same day, Bernard had a revelation of this fatal event; he shared it with his religious brothers and ordered the solemn funeral office to be celebrated. It was only after the return of the Crusaders to their homeland that the religious of Saint-Savin learned that Gervais had perished on the same day they had attended his funeral, and that, consequently, their holy Abbot could only have known of this horrible death through a miraculous vision.

Saint Bernard was favored with other revelations, known later through the account he had given to an intimate friend. One evening, as he was prolonging his prayers in the oratory after Compline, he found himself transported into a chapter house filled with white monks, from whom he received a blessing. The most venerable among them, addressing Bernard, said to him: "We were once religious in this monastery, and we love to haunt these places that were witnesses to our victorious trials. We congratulate you for having revived the ancient piety of this holy asylum. We come today to enjoin you to announce to your brothers that nineteen of them will soon appear before God." The very next day, Bernard shared this vision with his monks and urged them to purify their consciences to prepare for a supreme departure. One of them having treated these predictions as illusory dreams, the prior of Saint-Savin replied that he would be the first to be struck by death; and he then designated by their names all those who were going to descend into the grave, indicating the day and hour of their agony. Everything happened as he had predicted, and it was then recognized that he was truly gifted with the gift of prophecy.

In this same oratory of Saint-Savin, the Virgin appeared one night to Saint Bernard, encouraged him to endure the tribulations that were testing him, and announced to him that he was predestined for the happiness of heaven.

Bernard, who had reached the age of fifty, having learned that his brethren wished to choose him as Abbot, took flight with the intention of devoting himself to the anchoritic life, a desire he had long nurtured. Around the year 1096, he went to find a hermit named Pierre des Étoiles, who lived not far from the monastery, the very man who would one day found the abbey of Fontgombaud. Pierre approved of his plan and, to shield him from the searches that would inevitably be made, agreed to lead him into an inaccessible solitude in the forest of Craon. It was i n this new The forêt de Craon Site of eremitic retreat. baid, extending over the borders of Brittany and Maine, that Robert of Arbrissel, Vital of Mortain, and Raoul de la Fustaye were then living in isolated cells, men who would one day make their names illustrious through the foundation of various religious congregations. Pierre des Étoiles obtained from the blessed Vital the favor of accepting a new companion of solitude and entrusted Bernard to him under the assumed name of Guillaume, because the latter wished to surround his birth and his retreat with the greatest mystery. Vital, after having summoned all the anchorites of this desert, had them agree to the admission of the new Solitary; everyone wanted to offer him their cell, but it was decided that Guillaume (we have just said that this was Saint Bernard's assumed name) would travel through the forest, visit all the cells, and choose the one that suited him best. He therefore ventured into the desert where, at the very edge, he encountered the dwelling of a brother named Pierre. It was a narrow hut, built with tree bark, in a ruined oratory of Saint Médard, and which was not surrounded by any cultivated land. This desolate aspect seduced the mortified spirit of Bernard, who declared that he had found what suited him.

Pierre was delighted to see his poor hut preferred to the more comfortable dwellings of the other anchorites. He congratulated Bernard on his choice and promised to make him skilled in the art of woodturning. To celebrate his guest, he invited all his brethren to share a meal at his home: as usual, he had no provisions, but he knew where to find them; having equipped himself with baskets, he scoured the surroundings, gathered hazelnuts and wild fruits, stripped tree trunks of their honeycombs, and returned quite joyfully to offer his guests this copious improvised meal, to which he added a puree of tree leaves.

Bernard, under the direction of Pierre, became skilled in the art of shaping wood and weaving bark; he prepared the only meal of the evening and cooked wild herbs, which on feast days he seasoned with some condiment. He rendered every kind of service to Pierre, saying like the divine Master: — "I have not come to be served, but to serve."

During the three years that Bernard thus devoted to manual labor and contemplation, the monks of Saint-Savin had him searched for throughout France. They finally discovered his retreat; armed with an order from the Bishop of Poitiers and the Abbot of Saint-Cyprien, they prepared to go and take Bernard to place him at the head of their community. A religious, more eager than the others, named Hugues, outpaced his brethren and announced to the Hermit the fate that was intended for him. Bernard, seeing himself discovered, resolved to flee to an island, hoping that the ocean, better than dry land, would be a faithful guardian of his solitude.

One of the anchorites wanted to give him eighteen silver coins that he held in reserve. The man of God refused them: — "What have I to fear from poverty?" he exclaimed. "Has the Lord not promised to provide the necessities to those who seek his kingdom above all else?" — He had this sum given to a poor countryman who happened to be there, and, rich in his trust in God, he headed toward the English Channel. Arrived on the shores of the Ocean, he boarded a boat and had himself taken to the island of Chaussey, between Jersey and Saint-Malo.

It was on this isolated rock that he lived, from 1099 to 1100, immer sed in a perpet île de Chaussey Island where Bernard lived as a hermit. ual contemplation of divine things. Without companions, without fire, without bread, without commerce with men, he lived on a few wild roots. Only one important event came to disturb the usual calm of his voluntary isolation.

A ship of Armorican pirates had captured two merchant vessels near the coast of England after a bloody battle. It was heading toward a port in Brittany with its prizes and captives when it was pushed by contrary winds toward the island of Chaussey. Bernard was moved by deep pity upon seeing these poor merchants chained and stained with their own blood. He exhorted them to patience and the forgiveness of injuries, while he adjured the pirates to look into themselves and renounce their odious plans. The pirates only laughed at his advice and soon took advantage of a change in wind to set sail again.

Saint Bernard spent the whole night in prayer and begged God, the Virgin, and the Saints to touch the hearts of the barbarians and return the unfortunate prisoners to their families. These vows were soon to be answered. Discord had arisen among the pirates regarding the distribution of the prizes, and their fratricidal weapons had been stained with their own blood. However, the ship was reaching the port and was soon to drop anchor when a frightful and sudden storm drove it far from the coast. The pirates, facing death, rediscovered their conscience, untied the bonds of their captives, and promised to restore everything that belonged to them. To appease the vengeful wrath of the heavens, they vowed to expiate their crimes through a pilgrimage, some to Jerusalem, others to Rome, others to Saint-Jacques de Compostelle. In the absence of a priest, they confessed to one another and swore to become the docile penitents of the Hermit they had insulted at Chaussey, if ever they could, safe and sound, land on his island. God allowed Himself to be touched by their repentance and especially by the prayers of Bernard. Five ships out of nine came to run aground on the beaches of Chaussey; the pirates threw themselves at the knees of the holy Solitary and ratified the promises they had made in the midst of danger. With the debris of the wrecked ships, they built a comfortable dwelling for the Hermit who, until then, had been content with the damp shelter of the caves. A few days later, they returned to the sea and went to restore to freedom the merchants they had captured.

During this time, the monks of Saint-Savin, weary of the futility of their searches, had finally chosen an abbot for themselves. As soon as Pierre des Étoiles learned of this election, which was to calm Bernard's fears, he went to the forest of Craon where he learned from the blessed Vital the new residence that the Hermit had chosen. He did not think he should hide any longer the name and history of his friend, whose fame filled Aquitaine. The anchorites provided him with a guide named Chrétien. Both soon arrived at Chaussey; after telling Bernard about the election of the abbot of Saint-Savin, which was to put an end to his apprehensions, they explained to him the desire that the anchorites of Anjou had for his return. Bernard acceded to their prayer, returned with them to the forest of Craon, and built himself a cell there, at the place called Font-Gohiard.

Raynaud, abbot of Saint-Cyprien, had long deplored the absence of Bernard and ardently wished to pass on his crosier to him, which he felt slipping from his feeble hand. Having recourse to ruse to bring back to the fold such a regretted defector, he went to find Bernard in his retreat, told him that the interest of his monastery had brought him to these parts, and that he had not wanted to pass so close to him without coming to renew his fraternal affection. Affecting to fear the dangers of the forest, he begged him to lead him to the edge; there, the venerable old man said to his guide: — "I have deceived your trust, I did not fear other thieves than these good anchorites who stole you from our tenderness; I am bringing you back among your first brothers." — Bernard yielded to these entreaties, thinking that he could later return to his cherished solitude. His arrival at Saint-Cyprien filled all hearts with joy; they cut his long and unkempt beard, they stripped him of his coarse skin garment to make him resume the Benedictine cowl; and, a few days later, he was named prior of the monastery.

Four months later, Raynaud, bowed under the burden of years, felt life abandoning him; before dying, he designated Bernard to the choice of the community to succeed him: — "I take God as witness," he cried, "that I know no one holier." — His wishes were granted; shortly after, Bernard, despite his reluctance, was consecrated abbot by Pierre II, bishop of Poitiers, who had adhered to Raynaud's plans.

Saint Bernard did not belie the hopes that had been conceived of his forced elevation to the abbatial dignity. It was by his humility, more than by his rank, that he was the first among all. Every day, he received a hundred priests at his table and served with his own hands the poor who came to ask him for hospitality.

It was in the year 1100, the first year of his abbacy, that he attended the Council of Poitiers, presided over by the cardinals Jean and Benoît, legates of the Holy See, and where King Philip I was struck with anathema, who, by his divorce, was scandalizing the nation. William, Duke of Aquitaine, feeling that he deserved the same fate, flew into a rage about this and threatened the one hundred and forty Fathers of the council with death. An ecclesiastic was immolated by popular rage; the members of the council fled in terror. In the midst of this general terror, Bernard of Tiron, Robert of Arbrissel, and the two legates remained alone and intr epid, took off t Bernard de Tiron Founder of the Order of Tiron and monastic reformer. heir miters to show how little they feared the stones flying over their heads, triumphed by their courage over the anger of the people, and the fatal sentence was pronounced... The Duke of Aquitaine had an interest in not suffering the censures, for he himself had repudiated his wife. One of the Fathers of the council, Pierre II, bishop of Poitiers, resolved to excommunicate him, was already pronouncing the formula. William, drawing his sword: "You are going to die by my hand," he shouted at him, "if you do not give me absolution." The prelate feigned fear, asked for a moment of leisure, and finished the fatal words: — "Strike now," he added, "I am ready." — The duke replied coldly: — "I do not like you enough to send you to paradise."

While Saint Bernard governed the abbey with as much zeal as wisdom, the monks of Cluny displayed the pretension of placing Saint-Cyprien under their jurisdiction; they went to find Pope Paschal II in Rome and obtained a brief that deposed Bernard from his prelacy, unless he conse nted to submit pape Pascal II Pope reigning during the episcopate of Geoffrey. to the supremacy of Cluny. Bernard did not hesitate for an instant: he preferred to renounce his crosier than to make it tributary, and went to join Robert of Arbrissel and Vital of Mortain in the forest of Craon. He traveled with them through the towns and countryside of Maine, announcing the word of God, attacking immorality head-on, and sowing in all hearts seeds of virtue and devotion.

At that time, priests in Normandy were publicly contracting marriage, bequeathing their benefices to their children, or giving them as dowries. Bernard succeeded in dissolving some of these guilty unions; but he excited such animadversion against him that his life was more than once in danger.

One day when he was preaching in Coutances, an archdeacon who had a wife and children, accompanied by numerous clerics, sought to do him harm and asked him how it was that a monk who should be dead to the world came to disturb it with his preaching. Bernard replied with an allegorical commentary on the Holy Scripture, recalling that Samson had exterminated his enemies with the jawbone of an ass. — "Samson," he told them, "whose name means Sun, represents Christ to us, the sun of justice; his enemies are all those who violate his laws; the dead ass is the faithful observer of his commandments; the jawbones of the ass are the preachers of the faith. It is precisely because they are dead to the vanities of the world that they can better fight and that they are the instrument of conversion with which the arm of the Lord arms itself." — The archdeacon, stunned by this speech, felt his anger calm down and even protected the Saint against the animosity of his confreres.

The monks of Saint-Cyprien had fought for four years against the persevering pretensions of the Order of Cluny. Equipped with a letter from the bishop of Poitiers and the abbot of Saint-Cyprien, they went to find Bernard in his hermitage and begged him to go to Rome to plead their cause and his own before the Pope. The Saint consented; dressed in his hermit's costume and mounted on a donkey, he left for Rome with some of his companions from the desert. Pope Paschal II, who knew him by reputation, thanks to the reports made to him by the cardinals Jean and Benoît, his legates at the council of Poitiers, received him with kindness, spoke with him for a whole day, and restored to him the abbatial dignity of which he had thought it necessary to dispossess him in favor of Cluny.

The monks of Saint-Cyprien, who had remained four years without an abbot, had relaxed their rule a great deal; some of them could not bear the yoke to which they had become unaccustomed and sought ways to get rid of an importunate censor, forgetting the service he had just rendered to the community. To weary his patience and make him take the well-known path to the desert again, they had the wheat and wine that were necessary for the food of the religious and the poor stolen; but these provisions were recovered, and a canon ensured the material future of the abbey for a whole year. The avenging death with which Providence punished the guilty did not frighten the seditious; they made an alliance with the monks of Cluny, whose encroachments they had until then repelled, and favored their annexation projects.

Bernard saw himself obliged to make a second trip to Rome to defend the independence of his monastery. Finding Paschal II changed in his sentiments and hostile to his cause, he did not fear to protest against his judgment and to appeal to the tribunal of God. The sovereign Pontiff, irritated by such audacity, drove him from his presence. His advisors soon calmed him by praising the virtues of Bernard; the cardinals Jean and Benoît recalled the courageous energy he had shown at the council of Poitiers. Paschal then consented to receive the Abbot of Saint-Cyprien again and to listen to his grievances. Saint Bernard then explained that his abbey existed before Cluny was founded and that it could not place itself under the law of a younger institution.

The monks of Cluny, who took their turn to speak, could not break the solid arguments of their adversary. Thus the Pope, returning on his past assessments, proclaimed the independence of the monastery of Saint-Cyprien. He even tried to keep Saint Bernard in Rome by offering him the dignity of cardinal-priest; but the humble religious, far from accepting this honor, did not even want to resume the dignity of abbot that was being restored to him, and requested permission to return to his solitude. Paschal consented, authorizing him to baptize, to confess, and to preach wherever his apostolic zeal would lead him. During his stay in Rome, he had shown him extreme kindness by inviting him to his table every day.

Bernard returned to Saint-Cyprien, and, a few days later, left with a small number of disciples for the island of Chaussey: but he could not make a long stay there. Pirates landed there, seized the sacred vessels and the liturgical vestments contained in the oratory, and profaned them in their sacrilegious orgies. They soon received the punishment for their depredations: they and their captain, Héobald, were buried in the waves, without being able to receive from a priestly hand the absolution of their crimes.

Bernard, fearing the return of pirate invasions, withdrew into a solitude in the diocese of Avranches, not far from Fougères, with a small number of disciples whose phalanx soon grew. In order to provide for food, it was necessary to devote the whole day to work; and the recitation of the psalms took up part of the night. Thus, Bernard suppressed this exercise of piety.

Raoul, Count of Fougères, fearing that the proximity of these farmer monks would harm his forest hunts, gave them the forest of Savigny, six miles away, whose soil, watered by streams, was much more fertile. The anchorites built huts there and, for several years, devoted themselves to agricultural work. Not far from there lived the blessed Vital, of whom we have already spoken and who was soon to transform his cell into a monastery.

It was to leave the place free for him and to imitate his example that Bernard began to search for another solitude where his disciples could group together and live in common with him. An angel appeared to one of the religious during his sleep, and urged him to address himself to Rotrou, Count of Mortagne. The latter did indeed give them the territory of Arcisses, located near Nogent-le-Rotrou, favorable to the cultivation of the vine and the raising of livestock. But the count soon retracted, following observations made to him by his mother Béatrix, regarding the dangers of discord that the proximity of these new religious with the Cluniacs of Nogent could create. He offered in exchange the land of Brunelle, in the forest of Tiron, whose ungrateful soil required the hardest work. Bernard accepted this disadvantageous exchange, and hastened to call to him those of his disciples who had remained in Brittany and Normandy.

While traveling from Nogent to Mortagne-sur-Huine, he was met with his two companions by a knight named Payen du Teil, who offered to accompany them to Mortagne, where he would offer them lodging in his home. The three travelers hastened to accept. During the night they spent under this hospitable roof, Payen's squire ran away with a saddle horse he stole from his master and headed towards Bellesme, a town in the Perche, which was then at war with Mortagne. Bernard, who understood all the pain that his host was trying in vain to hide, had recourse to prayer. God then obscured the sight of the fugitive thief, who, after many detours, returned to his master's house, believing he was making his entry into Bellesme. His eyes were then opened, and he understood that it was Bernard's prayers that had brought about his forced restitution.

The monastery built at Tiron became habitable in 1109. It was then that it was blessed by Yves of C hartres, who celebrated Mas monastère construit à Tiron Mother abbey of the order founded by Bernard. s there on Easter Day in a wooden chapel, and then proceed ed to the blessi Yves de Chartres Bishop and famous canonist, contemporary of Humbaud. ng of the monks' cemetery.

The sheepskins with which these religious were clothed gave them a singular appearance. The naive inhabitants of the neighboring countryside took them for Saracens, who had arrived through underground caverns to ravage the towns and cities; they sent spies to watch their movements. Great was their astonishment to see harmless men, building not camps and towers, but modest cells; not preparing for war, but singing psalms. The crowd then flocked without fear, to consider these strange men up close. Saint Bernard took advantage of this influx to preach the contempt of the world, the joys of sacrifice, and the mysteries of eternity. Many of his listeners were touched by his eloquent speech and embraced the monastic life.

Bernard's biographer tells us that the shepherd of the community let one of his calves stray into the forest. Two days later, a wolf brought the animal back, fulfilling the functions of a zealous cowherd towards it; he led it to Bernard's feet, without appearing intimidated by the presence of the monks, and returned peacefully to the forest, after having fulfilled his charitable mission.

God was pleased to signal the virtue of his servant through wonders. One day, it was a rain of roses that enveloped him with its perfumes, while he was blessing the community; another time, it was a white dew that perfumed the air, while he was celebrating the sacred mysteries; later, it was a fire, coming from the forest and threatening to devour the cells, which he suddenly extinguished with his suppliant voice.

These favors were mingled with tribulations. The monks of the congregation of Cluny, residing at Nogent, claimed to receive the tithe of Tiron and to have rights over the mortuary dues of the parish of Brunelles. Bernard, who wished to live in a spirit of peace and gentleness, did not attempt to fight against such powerful adversaries; he preferred to yield the place to them. He requested from Yves, Bishop of Chartres, and his Chapter the gift of a territory located near Sarcy, not far from the source of the Tiron river. The charter of donation was issued in 1113.

Rotrou, Count of Perche, Bernard's most intimate friend, was groaning in the dungeons of Robert of Bellême, whose portrait history has painted in the darkest colors.

Rotrou, tightly chained in the dungeons of this tyrant, was undergoing all the refinements of his cruelty, and expecting imminent death, had Bernard's prayers solicited for the salvation of his soul. The man of God, seized by a prophetic spirit, announced that the adversity would soon change victims and that Robert would envy the fate of Rotrou. This reversal of fortune did not take long to come to pass: Robert, a prisoner of Henry I, Duke of Normandy, ended his days in a prison in England, while Rotrou was invested with the county of Bellême, which he was to bequeath to his heirs.

Rotrou, attributing his deliverance to the prayers of Bernard, showed him all the vividness of his gratitude and returned to him the domain of Arcisses, where a priory was soon to be built. His mother, Béatrix, came to fix her residence near the monastery and had a vast basilica erected there.

Despite all these benefits, the religious lived in great poverty. They often lacked the necessities. It was sometimes necessary to share a pound of bread between two and even four religious. Necessity, by reducing them to eating only herbs and roots, imposed an additional burden on the requirements of the rule, which forbade them wine and prescribed the greatest austerities. Nevertheless, crowds flocked to place themselves under the guidance of Bernard.

There is no virtue that he did not practice to a heroic degree. Hospitality was in his eyes an essential duty of monastic life: rich, poor, the infirm, children, women, the sick, lepers—he admitted into his monastery all who presented themselves. For lack of bread, they took what was already served on the monks' table; to shoe the horses of strangers, they unshoed those of the abbey; to clothe the beggars, they stripped themselves of the most necessary garments.

Saint Bernard pushed the spirit of mortification so far that he was never seen sitting near a hearth; when he was sick, he refused the relief of remedies, the help of baths, and bloodletting. One day when he had broken a rib, he would not resort to a surgeon in order to suffer more for the love of God. When, through the negligence of the refectorian, his customary ration of water had not been served at his table, he refrained from asking for it and rejoiced inwardly at this opportunity for penance. He did not allow, by reason of his dignity, for more refined dishes to be served to him, never distinguishing himself from the others except by greater mortification.

Gifted with the gift of tears, it was not only for his own faults that he wept, but for those whose confession he received at the tribunal of penance. Sighing after the days of eternity, he saw only a subject of sadness in the dissipations of this world. It was especially when he celebrated the holy mysteries, when he attended the funeral of one of his monks, or when he saw one of them leave for distant lands, that he gave vent to the abundance of his tears and the vividness of his emotion.

We will group here some anecdotes that will show us, translated into actions, the virtues of our holy Abbot.

Passing through the kitchen one day, he noticed a small portion boiling on the fire: having learned that it was a special dish being prepared for him, he hastened to put it into the common pot and addressed severe reproaches to the cook.

Another time, having entered the refectory to ring the meal bell, he noticed that a bread whiter than that of the others had been placed at his setting. He immediately hastened to carry it to the place that was to be occupied by an old man of the community.

On a journey he was making with some of his brothers, Bernard met on the road a woman whose attire was very worldly. Having noticed that his companions had looked at the traveler with too little restraint: "This woman who just passed," he said to them, "would be very beautiful, if she were not one-eyed!" The monks protested, affirming that she indeed enjoyed both her eyes. "That may be," replied the Abbot; "I confess to you that I did not apply myself at length to look at whether this woman had only one eye or if she had two." The monks understood the hint and repented of their indiscreet curiosity.

Another time, Bernard gave them a lesson in charity. A servant of the abbey, not finding himself sufficiently fed, was stealing extra food. The brothers noticed it and put the provisions under lock and key: the servant knew how to pick the locks, and then a complaint was brought to the Abbot. The latter, far from agreeing with them, reproached them for their parsimony and told them that they were all guilty of the thefts they had caused by their stinginess. From then on, the hungry servant had full freedom to take whatever food he pleased.

A monk, lying in his coffin, and near whom Bernard was reciting the prayers for the dead, suddenly rose from his funeral bed, wrapped in his white shroud, and asked the Abbot to announce to his brothers that he was already enjoying supreme happiness.

Robert des Moteis, a neighbor of the abbey of Tiron, was a very poor knight. Bernard went to visit him, and, by his mere presence, caused inexhaustible wealth to flow into the modest castle.

Passing through Saint-Lubin de Chassant, he healed, with a sign of the cross, a child born blind whom his mother was recommending to the intercession of the Saint. It was also by making the sign of the Redemption that he delivered two religious of his community from the obsessions of the evil spirit.

At the time of haymaking, a young novice was almost crushed by a cart pulled by ten oxen. The injured man was transported to the infirmary, with everyone thinking only of the certainty of his imminent death. But Bernard, by laying his hands on him, suddenly repaired the effects and traces of the accident.

A monk of Tiron, engaged in the orders, had committed various thefts in the hope of returning to worldly life. The Abbot, who was gifted with prophetic vision, showed him that he knew the temptations that were testing him and tried to hold him in the bonds of penance. But the bad religious did not take account of his solicitations, and, soon realizing his guilty plans, he fled far from the asylum where he could not give vent to the overflow of his passions.

A religious came one day to confide to his Abbot the temptations by which he was obsessed. Bernard showed him that these trials were intended to purify his soul; but, at the same time, he announced to him the end of these agitations which could have exceeded the measure of his resistance.

When the number of religious of Tiron had risen to 500, the Abbot sent 209 of them into various regions to found priories, where they established themselves in groups of twelve. Thus, the abbey of Tiron had about sixty-seven houses under its dependence and thirty parish churches.

Bernard's reputation, crossing the borders of France, had penetrated into Aquitaine, Burgundy, Germany, England, and Scotland; from all sides, foundations were requested of this nascent congregation, which gave new luster to the rule of Saint Benedict. It was for this purpose that Henry I, King of England and Normandy, sent him Thibaut, Count of Blois, and Rotrou, Count of Perche, apologizing for not being able to visit him himself because of the danger he ran in leaving his states. T his prince donated to the a Henri Ier, roi d'Angleterre Successor to William Rufus, also involved in the investiture controversy. bbey a perpetual annuity of fifteen silver marks, not counting some fifty marks that he sent them each year until his death. Moreover, he had a magnificent dormitory built at his own expense. Bernard, to show his gratitude to the King of England, went to visit him in his states of Normandy.

The King of France, Louis the Fat, who owed the healing of an illness to the prayers of Saint Bernard, gave the territory of Centray to the abbey of Tiron.

A gentleman named Robert led thirteen religious from Tiron to England and had them build the abbey of Notre-Dame de Cameis, in the diocese of Saint David's.

David, Duke of Northumberland, who became King of Scotland, also called twelve religious from Tiron and had them build the abbey of Kaburck, in the diocese of Saint Andrews. Later, he wanted to visit the holy Founder whom he held in such high e steem, but he only arrived w David, duc de Northumberland King of Scotland who introduced the Order of Tiron to his country. ith his numerous retinue at Tiron after the death of Bernard; he did not think he could pay a better tribute to his memory than to take with him twelve religious to associate them with those who were already edifying Scotland by the example of their virtues.

Bernard was ripe for heaven. A serious illness came to offer him a new opportunity to exercise his patience.

The day before his death, Bernard appeared to a pious woman from Nogent-le-Rotrou, named Marie, while she was lighting a candle before the relics kept in the tower of the castle of Nogent; he urged her to come the very next day to visit him with her daughter, who was destined for the life of the cloister, because later, he added, there would no longer be time. The next day, Marie arrived at Tiron with her daughter, whose vows Bernard received. A few days later, the young virgin went to join in heaven the one who had consecrated her to the Lord.

The religious, while keeping watch at night near their Abbot, perceived with rapture a crowd of monks wrapped in the halo of saints, who surrounded the bed of agony. These were the former religious of Tiron, who had all died in a state of grace, with the exception of one; he had dared to receive the priesthood without passing through the lower orders, and the angels of darkness had carried his soul into the infernal abysses: this is what Saint Bernard revealed the next day to his disciples, while addressing his final farewells to them.

After eleven days of suffering, Bernard, aged seventy, died on April 14 of the year 1117, seven weeks after his friend Blessed Robert of Arbrissel.

The body of the deceased was transported to the church, where it remained exposed for three days. His funeral resembled a triumphal feast more than a mourning ceremony. To pay their final respects to the holy Abbot, the great left their castles; the farmers, their fields; the merchants, their trade; the monks, their church; the anchorites themselves renounced for a day the calm of their solitude.

His death was revealed the same day to one of his religious who lived in England, and to others who had settled on the banks of the Rhône.

Bernard had composed statutes for the congregation he founded, but they have not come down to us.

The Congregation of Tiron, which was a second r congrégation de Tiron Monastic order founded by Bernard, a reformed branch of the Benedictines. eform of the Order of Saint Benedict, like those that were accomplished at Cluny, at Cîteaux, at La Grande-Sauve, made rapid progress after the death of its founder. Besides the mother house of Tiron, it counted ten abbeys in France and England, as well as a large number of priories and parishes, distributed in the dioceses of Chartres, Le Mans, Paris, Rouen, Avranches, Nantes, Soissons, etc. The religious were vulgarly designated by the name of grey monks, because of the color of their clothing; they later took the black habit of the Benedictines. In the 18th century, the congregation ceased to exist; Tiron and most of the other houses then aggregated to the Congregation of Saint-Maur. Some also passed to other Orders, or were suppressed.

The cult of Saint Bernard of Abbeville, localized first at Tiron, then extended to all the houses of the Congregation.

The Holy See authorized, in 1861, the cult of the holy abbot for the diocese of Chartres. It is on April 14 that his feast is celebrated.

By an apostolic indult of April 19, 1866, the Holy See also authorized the Bishop of Amiens to insert, when he wished, into the liturgy of his diocese, the office of the Saint, as it is recited in the diocese of Poitiers.

Saint Bernard of Abbeville is represented in a hermitage, occupied at the trade of a turner.

Geoffrey the Fat, a monk of the abbey of Tiron, one of the last disciples Geoffroy le Gros Monk of Tiron and biographer of Saint Bernard. of Bernard, wrote the Life of his Abbot, from 1137 to 1148, and dedicated it to Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres. — We have extracted this life from the Hagiography of Amiens, by M. Corbief, while abbreviating it.