"Roger the Monk
Got excessively drunk,
So they put him to bed,
And tucked him in."
There was no friend to bestow such care upon our Roger, he therefore lay
helplessly upon the bare stone until refreshing sleep restored his
eyesight and his perpendicular.
Our particular friend the head of the Church was a very different
character, and was a most simple-minded and really good religious man. I
employed a photographer of the Royal Engineers (kindly permitted by
Major Maitland, R.E.) specially to take his picture, as he sat every
morning knitting stockings, with a little boy by his side reading the
Greek Testament aloud, in the archway of the monastery. This was his
daily occupation, varied only when he exchanged the work of knitting
either for spinning cotton, or carving wooden spoons from the arbutus:
these he manufactured in great numbers as return presents to those poor
people who brought little offerings from the low country. Never having
mixed with the world, the old man was very original and primitive in his
ideas, which were limited to the monastery duties and to the extreme
trouble occasioned by the numerous goats which trespassed upon the
unfenced gardens, and inflicted serious damage. The chapel, which was
under his control, was of the usual kind, and at the same time rough and
exceedingly gaudy, the pulpit being gilded throughout its surface, and
the reredos glittering with gold and tawdry pictures of the lowest style
of art, representing the various saints, including a very fat St. George
and the meekest possible dragon. Our old friend had never seen a British
sovereign with the St. George, and was vastly pleased when he discovered
that his saint and ours were the same person, only differing in symmetry
of figures and in ferocity of dragons.
There was one very extraordinary effigy in bas-relief upon silver-gilt
about two feet six inches high, of the Virgin Mary, to which peculiar
miraculous properties were attributed. The possession of this relic
formed the principal attraction of the monastery. About a quarter of a
mile above the present establishment there is a small cave concealed
among the ragged masses of rock that crust the mountain side; this has
been formed by one rock which, leans across another, and each end has
been walled up artificially, so as to form a stone chamber of about
twelve feet in length by seven in width, with a small entrance.
According to the account given by the old monk, this cave was the origin
of the present monastery through the following accident. Among these
wild mountains, where no dwelling of any kind exists, it has always been
the custom after the melting of the snows in early spring to pasture the
numerous flocks of goats, which are at that season driven up from the
parched herbage of the low country to the fresh herbs of the cooler
altitudes. Three or four hundred years ago a shepherd, having lost his
goat at night, was surprised at the appearance of a light among the
rocks high up on the mountain, and with superstitious awe he related his
discovery to his fellows. For some time the mysterious light was
observed nightly, and various conjectures were on foot as to its origin,
but no one dared to venture upon an examination.
At length, the authorities of the Church having been consulted, it was
resolved that a priest should accompany the party of investigation and
the matter should be thoroughly cleared up.
It was a difficult climb to the pathless crags at night, but the light
was glimmering like "the star that the wise men saw in the east," and
though occasionally lost at intervals, it guided the party on their way.
Upon arrival at the cave, there was no inhabitant. A lamp burnt before a
small effigy of the Virgin Mary suspended against the wall of rock, but
no trace of human foot or hand could be discovered.
Such is the legend; and the inexplicable mystery caused much excitement
and agitation in the minds of the Church authorities. At length it was
determined that, as the apparition of the light was miraculous, it was
incumbent upon the people to erect a monastery upon the site of the
appearance, contiguous to the now sacred cave.
This was an extreme difficulty, as the inclination formed an angle of
about 60 degrees; and the mountain was hard gneiss that could only have
been scarped by expensive blasting. However, it was hoped that a
blessing would attend the good work; therefore, in spite of all
obstacles, it was commenced, and masons were engaged from the village of
Phyni to arrange a foundation.
There was no water nearer than the torrent in the deep hollow half a
mile below, therefore extreme labour was required in mixing the mortar
for the walls; the jars in which the necessary water was conveyed upon
men's shoulders up the precipitous rocks appeared to be influenced by
some adverse, but unseen, agency, as they constantly slipped from their
hold and broke. During the night the work which the masons had
accomplished in the day fell down, and was discovered every morning as a
heap of ruin; the building could not proceed. In this perplexity the
Church was relieved by a supernatural interposition. Early one morning a
jar of pure water was discovered in the sharp angle of the hollow
between the hills, exactly below the rachkooba, where I am now writing.
It was evident to the priestly mind that an angel had placed this jar of
water to denote the spot where some hidden spring might be developed,
which would be a favourable site for the new monastery. They dug, and
shortly discovered the expected source.
