Wanderings by southern waters, eastern Aquitaine | Page 6

Edward Harrison Barker
swallow's nest, to the
precipitous face of the rock, and which is reached from below by more
than 200 steps in venerable dilapidation[*], contains the church of St.
Sauveur, the chapel of the Virgin, called the Miraculous Chapel, and
the chapel of St. Amadour, all distinct. The last-named is a little crypt,
and the Miraculous Chapel conveys the impression of being likewise
one, for it is partly under the overleaning rock, the rugged surface of
which, blackened by the smoke of the countless tapers which have been
burnt there in the course of ages, is seen without any facing of masonry.
[*] Since the foregoing was written the old slabs have been turned
round, and the steps been made to look quite new.
If by looking at certain details of this composite structure one could
shut off the surroundings from the eye, the mind might feed without
any hindrance upon the ideas of old piety and the fervour of souls who,
when Europe was like a troubled and forlorn sea, sought the quietude
and safety of these rocks, lifted far above the raging surf. But the
hindrance is found on every side. The sense of artistic fitness is

wounded by incongruities of architectural style, of ideas which meet
but do not marry. The brazen altar, in the Miraculous Chapel was well
enough at the Paris Exhibition of 1889, where it could be admired as a
piece of elaborate brass work, but at Roc-Amadour it is a direct
challenge to the spirit of the spot. Then again, late Gothic architecture
has been grafted upon the early Romanesque. Those who restored the
building after it had been reduced to a ruin by the Huguenots in 1562
set the example of bad taste. The revolutionists of 1793 having in their
turn wrought their fury upon it, the work of restoration was again
undertaken during the last half-century, but the opportunity of
correcting the mistake of the previous renovators was lost. The piece of
Romanesque architecture whose character has been best preserved is
the detached chapel of St. Michael, raised like a pigeon-house against
the rock; but even this has been carefully scraped on the outside to
make it correspond as nearly as possible to some adjacent work of
recent construction.
The ancient treasure of Roc-Amadour has been scattered or melted
down, but the image of the Virgin and Child, which according to the
local tradition was carved out of the trunk of a tree by St. Amadour
himself, is still to be seen over the altar in the Miraculous Chapel. It is
probably 800 years old, and it may be older. There is no record to help
hypothesis with regard to its antiquity, for since the pilgrimage
originated it appears to have been an object of veneration, and the
commencement of the pilgrimage is lost in the dimness of the past.
Like the statue of the Virgin at Le Puy, it is as black as ebony, but this
is the effect of age, and the smoke of incense and candles. The antiquity
of the image is, moreover, proved by the artistic treatment. The Child is
crowned and rests upon the Virgin's knee; she does not touch him with
her hands. This is in accordance with the early Christian sentiment,
which dwells upon the kingship of the Child as distinguished from the
later mediaeval feeling, which rests without fear upon the Virgin's
maternal love and makes her clasp the Infant fondly to her breast.
The 'miraculous bell' of Roc-Amadour has not rung since 1551, but it
may do so any day or night, for it is still suspended to the vault of the
Miraculous Chapel. It is of iron, and was beaten into shape with the
hammer--facts which, together with its form, are regarded as certain
evidence of its antiquity. The first time that it is said to have rung by its

own movement was in 1385, and three days afterwards, according to
Odo de Gissey, the phenomenon was repeated during the celebration of
the Mass. All those who were present bore testimony to the fact upon
oath before the apostolic notary.
Very early in the Middle Ages the faith spread among mariners, and
others exposed to the dangers of the sea, that the Lady of Roc-Amadour
had great power to help them when in distress. Hugues Farsit, Canon of
Laon, wrote a treatise in 1140, 'De miraculis Beatae Virginis rupis
Amatoris,' wherein he speaks of her as the 'Star of the Sea,' and the
hymn 'Ave maris stella' is one of those most frequently sung in these
days by the pilgrims at Roc-Amadour. A statement, written and signed
by a Breton pilgrim in 1534, shows how widely this particular devotion
had then spread among those who trusted their lives to the uncertain
sea:
'I, Louis
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 133
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.