We have given a few anecdotes of the life led by Dominic during
a time when war and bloodshed were raging around him. They are all that are
left us to mark his course for many years. But it was during this time, though
it would be difficult to affix the precise date, that he propagated that
celebrated devotion which would alone entitle its author to our veneration, did
we know him in no other way than as the first institutor of the Rosary. The
universal voice of tradition affirms this devotion to have been revealed to him
by the Blessed Virgin herself; and if we consider its almost supernatural
character, combining as it does the simplest prayers with the profoundest
meditations, or again if we remember the extraordinary power with which it has
been blessed, and its adoption through the universal Church as the very
alphabet of prayer, it is difficult for us not to believe it something more
than a human invention, but rather as a gift which came to us as the most
precious token of the love of our dear Mother. Although, however, there is
ample ground for this belief, the details of any such revelation have not been
preserved to us for the circumstantial accounts of the giving of the Rosary,
which are so popular with later writers, are not to be found in any of the more
ancient authors, who leave the date and the manner of its first institution in
obscurity. (1) Dominic's life during these years was, for the most part, a
lonely and hidden one: his communications with heaven remained locked within
his own breast; for it was not with him as with so many other saints, on whom a
hundred busy eyes were always fixed to mark every indication of supernatural
grace, every phenomenon, if we may so say, of their ecstacy and prayer: his own
lips were the only source from whence the secret favours of God could over have
been made known, and they certainly were the last which were ever likely to
speak of them to another.
We again remark in the institution of the Rosary something of
that characteristic feature of S. Dominic to which we have before alluded. It
was not altogether a new devotion. There was nothing novel in the frequent
repetition of the "Angelical
Salutation," or the "Pater
Noster:" such devotion had been common in the Church from time
immemorial, and we read of the hermits of the deserts, counting such prayers
with little stones, in the same way as we use the beads. The novelty was the
association of mental and vocal prayer in those mysteries, which gather
together, under fifteen heads, all the history of the life of Christ. This
working out of the materials which lay before him, and which others had used
before him, is the peculiarity of which we have spoken. It is the distinctive
humility of our Saint. If we reflect on the way in which all his greatest
actions were performed, we may safely say, that they came from a soul in which
the petty desire of personal reputation, of making a noise in the world, of
being known as the founder of an institution, or the originator of a noble
thought, was never felt. Nay, if we may so say, there is something which
perpetually reminds us of our Lord's own way of working; when He took His
parables and similitudes from the common things before His eyes, and was
content to let His Church grow out of the relics of Judaism, as its visible
temples may^ sometimes be seen standing among the ruins of heathen fanes,
converting all their beauty to a sacred use. In all S. Dominic's institutions
we see this unconsciousness of self, which is an evidence of the highest class
of mind, and it is probably from this cause that, in the commencement of all of
them, there is an obscurity and uncertainty if date which is rarely found to attach
to the inventions of human genius.
We may, however, consider it as certain that the Rosary had
begun to be propagated before the year 1213, as we are assured that it was used
by the soldiers of the Count de Montfort's army before the battle of Muret,
which took place in that year. Many stories are told of the wonders which
followed on its first adoption. Some despised it, and ridiculed its use; among
whom was one of the bishops of the country of Toulouse, who, hearing the Rosary
preached by S. Dominic, spoke of it afterwards with contempt, saying it was
only fit for women and children. He was soon convinced of his error; for
shortly afterwards, falling into great persecution and calumnies, he seemed in
a vision to see himself plunged into thick mire from which there was no way of
escape. Raising his eyes, he saw above him the forms of our Lady and S.
Dominic, who let down to him a chain made of a hundred and fifty
rings, fifteen of which were gold; and laying hold of this he found himself
safely drawn to dry land. By this he understood, that it was by means of the devotion
of the Rosary he should be delivered from his enemies, which shortly took place
after he had devoutly commenced its use. Another similar story relates how a noble
lady opposed the new confraternities of this devotion with all her power, but
was converted by the following vision, which was granted to her one night in
prayer. Being rapt in ecstasy, she saw an innumerable company of men and women,
surrounded by a great splendour, who devoutly recited the Rosary together; and
for every "Ave Maria" which
they repeated, a beautiful star came forth from their mouths, and the prayers
were written in a book in letters of gold. Then the Blessed Virgin spoke to her
and said, "In this book are written
the names of the brethren and sisters of my Rosary, but thy name is not written;
and because thou hast persuaded many not to enter it, there shall befall thee a
sickness for a time, which yet shall turn to thy salvation." The lady
was soon after seized with sickness,
and, recognizing the truth of the prediction,
she caused herself, on her recovery, to be inscribed among the members of the
confraternity. The spread of this
devotion was the most successful weapon in
the eradication of the Albigensian heresy. The child of ignorance, it fled before the light of truth; and as the mysteries of the faith were gradually
brought back to the minds and hearts
of the people, the mysteries of falsehood
disappeared. The doctrine of the Incarnation, so specially commemorated in the Rosary, became
then, as ever, the bulwark of the
truth; and wherever the society was established, and the name of Mary was
invoked, that name, as the Church
sings, "alone destroyed all
heresies."
During the time that Dominic exercised the office of vicar to
the Bishop of Carcassona, the position of the contending parties in Languedoc
was considerably altered by the arrival of Peter, king of Arragon, who joined
the forces of the Count of Toulouse with a powerful army. He was allied to the
count by marriage, but had hitherto contented himself by negotiating in his
favour with the court of Rome. In the beginning of the year 1213, however, a
council was summoned at Lavaur, at which the king formally demanded from the
legates and Catholic chiefs the restitution of the towns and lands which they
had taken in the course of the war from the Count of Toulouse and the other
nobles who had espoused his cause, and their restoration to the communion of
the Church. The council consented to admit the others on the terms proposed,
but refused to include the Count of Toulouse, whose repeated perjuries and
evasions had rendered him unworthy of trust. This answer was considered by the
king as an evidence that there was a resolve to destroy the house of Toulouse,
from motives of personal ambition on the part of the Count de Montfort; and he,
therefore, declared the family of Raymond under his protection, and appealed to
the Holy See against the decision of the council. The legates, on their part,
represented to the Pope that the only chance of restoring peace to the
distracted country was by the entire removal of the house of Toulouse, and the
destruction of its hereditary power. The contradictory appeals and reports
which were sent him, rendered it difficult for Innocent to judge in a cause
involved every way in embarrassment. That he was very far from advocating
unnecessary or undue severity towards Raymond and his family, we may gather from
his own letters to the Count de Montfort, in which he urges him not to let the
world think that he fought more for his own interests than for the cause of the
faith. On the other hand, he complains, in a letter, that the king of Arragon
has misled him as to the state of affairs, and enjoins him to proceed no
further against the Count de Montfort, until the arrival of a cardinal whom he
is about to despatch to the spot, to examine the whole question as his delegate.
It was too late. Before the order arrived, the king had passed the Pyrenees,
and, joining the troops of the Counts of Toulouse, Foix, and Comminges,
prepared to advance against the army of the crusaders. Their position seemed
indeed but gloomy, for the forces of the heretic leaders far outnumbered those of
the Catholics. A lay brother of the Cistercians, who watched the progress of
the war with painful interest, went in company with Stephen de Metz, another
religious of the same order, to consult Dominic at this juncture, well knowing
that God often revealed to him the secrets of coming events. "Will these evils ever have an end, Master
Dominic?" asked the afflicted brother. He repeated his question many
times, but Dominic remained silent. At length he replied, "There will be a time when the malice of the men of Toulouse will
have its end; but it is far away; and there will be much blood shed first, and
a king will die in battle." Brother Stephen and the Cistercian interpreted
this prediction to allude to Prince Louis of France, the son of Philip
Augustus, who had joined the army of the crusaders in the previous February. "No," replied Dominic, "it will not touch the king of France:
it is another king whose thread of life will be cut in the course of this
war." This prophecy was very shortly to be accomplished, and Dominic
himself was destined to be present on the spot where the decisive struggle took
place which witnessed its fulfilment.
Very shortly after uttering the prediction, he left Carcassona
on the return of the bishop, intending to join a congress of the Catholic
prelates and legates which was to be held at Muret. On the road thither he
passed through the city of Castres, where the body of the martyr S. Vincent was
preserved, for the veneration of the faithful. Entering the church, to pay his
devotion at the shrine of the saint, he remained so late that the prior of the
collegiate canons of Castres, who was his host for the time, despatched one of the
brethren to call him to dinner. The brother obeyed, but on going into the
church, he saw Dominic raised in the air in ecstasy before the altar; and not
daring to disturb him, he returned to the prior, who himself hastened to the
spot, and beheld the spectacle with his own eyes. So forcible was the impression
it left on his mind of the sanctity of the man of God, that shortly after he
joined himself to him, and was one of those who formed the first foundation of
the order. This was the celebrated Matthew of France, afterwards the prior of
the convent of S. James in Paris, and the first and last who ever bore the
title of abbot among the Friars Preachers. After this incident, Dominic
proceeded on his road to Muret.
It was on the 10th of September of the same year, that the king
of Arragon suddenly appeared before the walls of this place, with an army,
according to some writers, of 100,000 men, or, as others more probably state,
of 40,000. The intelligence of his approach reached De Montfort at Fanjeaux. It
seems probable that this hostile movement took the Catholic chieftain by
surprise; for only a few weeks previously, he had been invited to a friendly conference
by the king, and so little was he prepared for any active measures at the time
(owing to the pending negotiations with the Roman court), that he had no more
than 800 horse, and a small number of men-at-arms with him, with which to come
to the relief of the besieged. To oppose so contemptible a force to the army of
the king, seemed little less than madness, yet he never hesitated. On the day
following that on which the news reached him, he set out from Fanjeaux, taking
with him the bishops and legates, amongst whom was Fulk, bishop of Toulouse,
with the intention of at least attempting a pacific settlement before the last
appeal to arms. He stopped on his way at the Cistercian monastery of Bolbonne, and
going into the church, laid his sword on the altar, as though to commend his
cause to God, and remained for some time in prayer; then taking back his sword,
as now no longer his, but God's, he proceeded to Saverdun, where he spent the
night in confession and preparation for death. His little company of followers
did the same, and on the morning of the following day they all communicated,
as' men who were about to offer their lives as a sacrifice. Some authors tells
us that Dominic was present with the other legates and ecclesiastics in the
army; others name him as being in their company only at Muret ; but it seems probable
that he had joined them previously, and if the current tradition is the correct
one, that the crusaders ascribed their subsequent victory to the particular
assistance of Mary, whom they had united to invoke in the prayers of the
Rosary, we may well believe that this appeal to our Lady of Victories came from
his counsel and exhortation. The army reached Muret on the side of the town
opposite to that where the forces of the king of Arragon were drawn up; but,
before entering the gates, the bishops were dispatched with propositions of
peace to the enemy's camp. A contemptuous sarcasm was the only reply they
received, and returning to the army they all entered Muret together. But they determined
on one more effort, and very early in the morning dispatched another message to
the king, to the effect that they would wait upon him barefoot, to bring about
the terms of reconciliation. They were preparing to execute this design, when a
body of cavalry attacked the gates; for the king had ordered the advance, without
even deigning a reply to this second embassy.
The scene that morning within the walls of Muret was surely a
religious one. Eight hundred devoted men, fortified by prayer and the sacraments
of reconciliation, were about, as it seemed to human judgment, to lay down
their lives as a sacrifice for the faith. There might be seen how the holy
sacrifice was celebrated in the presence of them all; and how, when the Bishop
of Uzes turned to say the last "Dominus
vobiscum," De Montfort knelt before him, clad in armour, and said, "And I consecrate my blood and life for
God and His faith;" and how the swords and shields of the combatants
were once more offered on the altar; and when it was over, and the horse men
were gathering together, and the very sound of the attack was at the gates,
these men all once more dismounted, and bent their knee to venerate and kiss
the crucifix, extended to them by the Bishop of Toulouse. He had come to give
them his parting words and blessing. Did his voice falter, or his eye grow dim
at the spectacle before him ? Something there certainly was of human emotion at
that moment which history does not notice; for we are told it was not he, but
the Bishop of Comminges who stood by his side, that spoke the last charge to
the army, and, taking the crucifix from the hands of Fulk, solemnly blessed
them as they knelt. Then they rode out to battle, and the ecclesiastics turned
back into the church to pray.
Nothing more heroic is to be found in the whole history of
chivalry, than this battle of Muret. It was a single charge. They rode through
the open gates, and after a feigned movement of retreat, they suddenly turned rein,
and dashed right on the ranks of their opponents, with the impetuosity of a
mountain-torrent. Swift as lightning they broke through the troops that opposed
their onward course, scattering them before their horses' hoofs with something
of supernatural energy, nor did they draw bridle till they reached the centre
of the army where the king himself was stationed, surrounded by the flower of
his nobles and followers. A moment's fierce struggle ensued; but the fall of
the king decided the fortune of the day. Terrified by the shock of that tremendous
charge, as it hurled itself upon them, the whole army fled in panic. The voice and
example of their chief might again have rallied them, but that was wanting;
Peter of Arragon lay dead on the field, and Dominic's prophecy was fulfilled.
And where was he meanwhile? and what place has this page of
chivalry in the annals of his apostolic life? The flash of swords, and the
tramp of those galloping steeds, startle us strangely from the story of his
quiet, lonely wanderings over the mountains, filling their echoes with the
sound of his hymns and litanies, as he goes about to preach. Where are we to
look for him in such a scene? Protestant writers are ready enough to tell us he
was at the head of the Crusaders, carrying a crucifix, and urging them on to
slaughter.
We must be suffered to think, however, that neither in the
schools of Palencia, nor in the canonry of Osma, could he have fitted himself for
such a post as the leader of a cavalry charge whose equal is scarce to be found
in history. Yet the battle of Muret forms part of the story of Dominic's life ;
he had his place there ; for that one moment, and, so far as history gives us
any token, for that one alone, he was brought in contact with the stormy scenes
of the Crusade. He had his place; but, to find it, we must leave the battle-field,
and go back to the church of Muret, where a different sight will greet us. When
the Christian knights were ridden forth to the battle, the churchmen had gone
before the altar to pray. They had sent their eonirades, as it seemed, to certain
death ; and their prayer had in it the anguish of supplication. Prostrate on
the pavement, which they bathed with their tears, they poured out their souls
to God. F. Bernard, of the Order of Preachers, who lived in Toulouse at the
beginning of the following century, and who wrote whilst the memory of these
events was still fresh in the minds of the people, thus describes them: "Then going into the church, they
prayed, raising their hands to heaven, and beseeching God for His servants who
were exposed to death for His sake, with such great groans, and cries, that it
seemed not that they prayed, but rather howled." (2) But from this agonizing suspense they were
roused by the shouts of the populace. The cry of victory sounded in their ears;
they hastened to the walls, and beheld the plain covered with the flying
companies of the heretics. Some plunged into the waters of the Garonne and perished
in their armour; others trampled their own comrades to death in the confusion of
their flight; many died under the swords of the Crusaders. It is computed that
no fewer than 20,000 of the heretic forces were slain, whilst we are assured by
all authorities that eight only of the Catholics fell during the combat of that
day. As the Count de Montfort rode over that victorious field he checked his
horse by the bleeding and trampled body of the king of Arragon. De Montfort had
some of the failings, but all the virtues, of his order: he was cast in the
heroic type of Christian chivalry. Descending from his horse, he kissed the body
with tears, and gave orders for its honourable interment, as became a gallant
enemy; then, returning barefoot to Muret, he went first to the church to return
thanks to God, and gave the horse and armour with which he had fought to the
poor. It was a true picture of the ages of faith.
We need scarcely be surprised that so wonderful a victory was
looked on as miraculous, and counted as the fruit of prayer. De Montfort himself
ever so regarded it; and attributing his success, under God, to the
intercession of Dominic, his love and gratitude to the saint knew no bounds. It
has always been so associated in the traditions and chronicles of the time with
the institution of the Rosary, as to make many affirm that the first
propagation of that devotion must be dated from this time.
The battle of Muret was a fatal blow to the cause of the count
of Toulouse. Very shortly after, Toulouse itself opened its gates to the victorious
arms of De Montfort; and a council, (3) which assembled at Montpellier in the
following year, decided that the sovereignty of the country should be intrusted
to him, until the general council, about to assemble at Rome, should declare further.
Cardinal Benvenuto, who reached Toulouse just as the decisive blow had been
struck, was commissioned to receive the elder Raymond to absolution, and to put
a stop to further hostilities; but the question as to his future enjoyment of
the temporal rights he had forfeited by breach of engagement, was still
deferred.
Twice again Dominic's name occurs among the busy scenes of De
Montfort's career. He was called on to baptize his daughter, and to celebrate
the marriage of his eldest son with the daughter of the dauphin of France. But
the favour of the victorious chieftain, and the distractions of the camp and
court, were scarcely felt by him at this moment. The shifting chances of the
war, guided by the hands of Providence, were opening to him, after long
waiting, the way to that design which had ever floated before his mind's eye.
The clouds which had so long hung over that distant horizon rose at last; and when
Toulouse opened her gates, and the storm of the combat was lulled, and the
favour of man was at hand to help on the will of God, Dominic, in his
forty-sixth year, prepared to lay the foundation of that order which was to
bear his name to future ages so long as the world and the Church should last.
Notes:
(1)
Local tradition declares the sanctury of Notre Dame de Dreche, near Albi, to
have been the scene of the vision of our Lady; it is certain that this
sanctaury first attained celebrity during the Albigensian troubles, and was one
of the favourite resorts of B. Dominic in the course of his apostolic labours.
(2)
A very popular tradition has represented S. Dominic as ascending one of the
towers on the wall, and displaying the crucifix for the encouragement of the
Christian troops. This assertion has been Supported by the exhibition, in later
ages, at Toulouse, of a crucifix pierced all over with arrows, which is
supposed to have been the identical one used by him on the occasion. Polidori,
who in all things strictly adheres to the ancient authors, and is careful to repudiate
every modern addition of less authority, rejects this tale as utterly
unfounded, chiefly from the entire silence of F. Bernard concerning the whole
matter; and as he was Inquisitor of Toulouse during fourteen years, if any such
crucifix had been preserved by the Institute in his day, he could hardly have
failed noticing it. Pere Lacordaire, in his eloquent life of S. Dominic, has
followed the same argument. On the other hand, in the chapel of our Lady in the
church of S. James at Muret, which was built as a memorial of the victory in
the course of the same year, we see a picture representing the Blessed Virgin
giving the Rosary to S. Dominic, who holds in his right hand a crucifix pierced
with three arrows: on the other side of our Lady, kneel Simon de Montfort and
Fulk of Toulouse. A facsimile of this picture, and of the same date, was long
kept in the Dominican church at Toulouse. Whether this picture alluded to any
circumstance which really took place, or was itself the origin of the tradition,
we do not pretend to determine.
(3)
In the Life of S. Francis we are informed, that the holy founder of the Friars
Minor was present at this council, being then on his return from Spain. He had,
however, no opportunity of meeting S. Dominic, as the latter was then absent at
Carcassona, and took no part in the proceedings.
Source:
Alemany, Most Reverend J. S., D. D. Life of St. Dominic and a Sketch of the Dominican Order. New York: P. O'Shea Publisher, 1867
