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The cloisters at Durham Cathedral
Saint Barthélemy de Farne
Ermite bénédictin (+ 1193)
Né en Angleterre dans le
Northumbria sous le nom de Tostig. Il prit le nom de William et quitta son pays
pour parcourir l'Europe. Appelé à se convertir, il émigra un temps en Norvège
puis, de retour en Angleterre, il prit le nom de Barthélemy (Bartholomew) et
entra au monastère de Durham. Il avait une grande dévotion pour saint Cuthbert qui
lui apparut et alla s'installer dans l'ancienne cellule de cet ermite sur l'île
de Farne et y resta 41 ans.
A découvrir aussi:
- Little-known
Saints of the North (en anglais) site internet 'la sainte île de
Lindisfarne'
SOURCE : http://nominis.cef.fr/contenus/saint/12639/Saint-Barthelemy-de-Farne.html
Tostig-Bartholomew de
Farne
† 1193
Tostig naquit à Whitby
(Yorkshire, Angleterre N) au début du 12e siècle, de parents scandinaves.
A l’école, ses petits
camarades eurent vite fait d’ironiser sur son nom (Tostig évoquant
immanquablement le toast anglais), de sorte que le garçon assuma un
prénom bien anglais (et plus chrétien) : William.
Il eut bientôt des
visions du Christ, de Marie et des Apôtres Pierre, Paul et Jean. Il gagna alors
la Norvège, où il fut ordonné diacre et prêtre. Comme certains prêtres vivaient
en concubinage, il arriva qu’on lui fit une proposition de mariage : William quitta
la Norvège et retourna en Angleterre.
Il fut trois ans curé,
puis il demanda à entrer au monastère de Durham, où il prit le nom
de Bartholomew.
Une nouvelle vision, de
saint Cuthbert cette fois-ci, (v. 20 mars) l’appela à l’île de Farne. Avec la
permission de son Supérieur, il s’y installa donc, non loin d’un certain
Aelwin, qui ne le supportait guère… et qui partit.
A venir le rejoindre, ce
fut le tour du prieur de Durham, Thomas, qui avait dû quitter le monastère à la
suite d’un différend avec l’évêque. Là encore, l’entente ne fut pas immédiate,
mais la sainteté de Bartholomew l’emporta et les deux ermites vécurent pendant
cinq années, dans la louange et l’ascèse quotidiennes.
Bartholomew assista
fraternellement Thomas à sa mort. Il continua sa vie solitaire, vivant du lait
de sa vache et du blé de son champ. On vint le voir et, tel Jean-Baptiste, il
conseillait aux puissants d’adoucir leurs exigences (cf. Lc 3:10-14).
L’ermite demeura, dit-on,
plus de quarante ans sur cette île. Devenu très âgé, il fut assisté par les
moines proches de Lindisfarne.
Bartholomew mourut le 25
juin 1193 (même si l’on a proposé bien d’autres dates) ; les miracles accomplis
sur sa tombe le firent vénérer comme Saint, mais il ne se trouve pas
mentionné au Martyrologe.
SOURCE : http://www.samuelephrem.eu/2015/06/tostig-bartholomew-de-farne.html
Also
known as
Bartholomew of Durham
Tostig
William
Profile
Descendant of
Scandanavian immigrants to England.
Because of the teasing he endured as a child,
he changed his name from Tostig to William. A dissolute youth,
he eventually left home to wander in Europe,
possibly to avoid settling down in an arranged marriage.
He experienced a conversion experience
along with way, and emigrated for a while to his ancestral Norway where
he worked as a missionary and
ordained a priest.
William returned to England,
and entered the Benedictine monastery at Durham,
taking the name Bartholomew. He had a great devotion to Saint Cuthbert
of Lindisfarne, received a vision of
him, and eventually moved into Cuthbert‘s
old cell on
the island of Farne, spending 41 of his remaining 42 years there. The only
break came when a dispute with the only other hermit in
the hermitage caused
him to pack up and return to Durham;
his bishop eventually
ordered him to act like he had good sense, and return to his cell.
Born
12th
century at Whitby, Northumbria, England as Tostig
1193 at
Farne, England of
natural causes
Additional
Information
A
Legend of Saint Bartholomew, Hermit at Farne, by Thomas Mozley
Book
of Saints, by the Monks of
Ramsgate
Saints
of the Day, by Katherine Rabenstein
books
Our Sunday Visitor’s Encyclopedia of Saints
other
sites in english
MLA
Citation
“Saint Bartholomew of
Farne“. CatholicSaints.Info. 19 July 2023. Web. 10 June 2026.
<https://catholicsaints.info/saint-bartholomew-of-farne/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/saint-bartholomew-of-farne/
Book of Saints
– Bartholomew – 24 June
Article
BARTHOLOMEW (Saint)
Confessor (June 24) (12th century) A native of Whitby (Yorkshire), whose name
in the world was William or Tostig. Entering a monastery, he elected to be
henceforth known as Bartholomew, and devoted himself to Apostolic work as a
missionary to Norway, where he was ordained priest. In his old age he betook
himself to a hermit’s cell in the Island of Farne off the coast of
Northumberland, where he died A.D. 1193.
MLA
Citation
Monks of Ramsgate.
“Bartholomew”. Book of Saints, 1921. CatholicSaints.Info. 19
August 2012.
Web. 10 June 2026. <http://catholicsaints.info/book-of-saints-bartholomew-24-june/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/book-of-saints-bartholomew-24-june/
St. Bartholomew of Farne
Feastday: June 24
Death: 1193
A Benedictine hermit
and miracle worker
associated with Durham, England. He was born in Whitby, in Northumbria,
England, and was called Tostig. After going to Norway, Bartholomew was
ordained and returned to Durham, where he entered the Benedictine Order. He
became a hermit on the island of Fame, on the coast of Northumbria, remaining
there for forty-two years. Bartholomew was
noted as a miracle worker.
SOURCE : https://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=1689
Bartholomew of Farne, OSB
Hermit (AC)
(also known as
Bartholomew of Durham)
Born at Whitby, England;
died c. 1193. Of the many pious men who were led by the example of Saint
Cuthbert to become solitaries on the island of Farne, off the Northumbrian
coast, not the least remarkable was this Bartholomew, for he spent no less than
42 years upon that desolate haunt of birds. His parents, who may have been of
Scandinavian origin, called him Tostig, but because the name made him a
laughing-stock it was changed to William. He determined to go abroad, and his
wanderings led him to Norway, where he remained long enough to receive
ordination as a priest. He returned home, and went to Durham, where he took the
monastic habit and took the name Bartholomew. A vision he had of Saint Cuthbert
inspired him to dedicate the rest of his life to God in the cell which Cuthbert
had once occupied at Farne.
Upon his arrival he found
another hermit already installed--a certain Brother Ebwin, who strongly
resented his intrusion and who strove by petty persecution to drive him away.
Bartholomew attempted no reprisals, but made it quite clear that he had come to
stay. Ebwin eventually retired, leaving him in solitary possession.
The mode of life he
embraced was one of extreme austerity, modelled upon that of the desert
fathers. Later he was joined by a former prior of Durham called Thomas; but
they could not agree. Their chief cause of dissension--sad to relate--was the
amount of food ration. Thomas could not manage with as little as Bartholomew,
and he went so far as to question the authenticity of what appeared to be his
brother's extraordinary abstemiousness. Bartholomew, who seems to have been
sensitive to criticism, was so offended at being charged with hypocrisy that he
left the island and returned to Durham. There he remained in spite of the
apologies of Thomas, until the bishop, a year later, ordered him back to Farne,
when a reconciliation took place. Forewarned of his approaching death,
Bartholomew announced it to some monks, who were with him when he died, and
buried him on the island. He left a reputation for holiness and miracles, but
there is no evidence of a liturgical cultus (Benedictines, Encyclopedia,
Walsh).
"From ancient time
long past, this island has been inhabited by certain birds whose name and race
miraculously persists. At the time of year for building nests, they gather
here. And such gracious gentleness have they learned from the holiness of the
place, or rather from those who made the place holy by their way of living
there, that they have no shrinking from the handling or the gaze of men. They
love quiet, and yet no clamor disturbs them. Their nests are built everywhere.
Some brood above their eggs beside the altar. No man presumes to molest them or
touch the eggs without leave. . . . And they in turn do harm to no man's store
for food. They seek it with their mates upon the waves of the seas. The
ducklings, once they are reared, follow behind their mothers who lead the way,
and once they have entered their native waters, come no more back to the nest.
"The mothers too,
their mild and gentle way of life forgotten, receive their ancient state and
instinct with the sea. This is the high prerogative of the island, which, had
it come to the knowledge of the scholars of old time, would have had its fair
fame blazoned through the earth.
"But at one time it
befell, whilst a mother was leading her brood, herself going on before that one
of the youngsters fell down a cleft of a creviced rock. The mother stood by in
distress, and let no one doubt but that she was then endowed with human reason.
For she forthwith turned about, left her youngsters behind, came to
Bartholomew, and began tugging at the hem of his cloak with her beak, as if to
say plainly: 'Get up and follow me and give me back my son.'
"He rose at once for
her, thinking that he must be sitting on her nest. But as she kept on tugging
more and more, he perceived at last that she was asking something from him that
she could not come at by voice. And indeed her action was eloquent, if not her
discourse. On she went, she first and he after, till coming to the cliff she
pointed to the place with her bill, and gazing at Bartholomew, intimated with
what signs she could that he was to peer inside.
"Coming closer, he
saw the duckling, with its small wings clinging to the rock, and climbing down
he brought it back to its mother, who in high delight seemed by her joyous look
to give him thanks. Whereupon she took to the water with her sons, and Bartholomew,
dumb with astonishment, went back to his oratory" (Geoffrey).
SOURCE : http://www.saintpatrickdc.org/ss/0624.shtml
SAINT BARTHOLOMEW of FARNE
Feast Day 24th June
A rumbustious, rugged
individual, Bartholomew was born at Whitby to Scandinavian parents and was
given the name Tostig. This name seemed to cause such ridicule that as soon as
he was able he changed it to William. By all accounts he was a most dissolute
youth, but a change to his way of living came when he refused, what was
probably an arranged, marriage. He fled to Norway and became a priest there.
Returning to England he spent three years in parochial ministry. Sometime in
the late 1140s he became a monk at Durham, as a novice he had a vision of
Christ on the Rood inclining his head towards him and stretching out his arms
to embrace him. He was greatly moved by his vision, the first of many, that
soon after his profession he went to live, as a hermit on the island of Inner
Fame, made famous by Cuthbert, here, except for a few short intervals, he spent
the rest of his life.
Bartholomew relished the
stormy weather and arduous conditions on this exposed site and practised with
extraordinary vigour the privations and penances customary to the hermit life.
Never easy to get on with, Bartholomew soon so annoyed another hermit, Aelwin
that he left, never to return. Years later he shared the island with the
ex-prior Thomas, but the two could not agree about the quantity and duration of
their meals. This time Bartholomew returned to Durham for a short time; but
they soon came to an agreement and lived afterwards in peace.
But Bartholomew had another
side to his character, it is said he was continually cheerful, he loved fishing
and had a great fondness of his pet bird, he showed great generosity to his
many visitors. He was no respecter of persons, often rebuking the rich and
powerful, who sometimes were so struck by his venerable presence that they
abandoned oppression and took to alms giving. Once a Flemish woman, a friend of
his early life, visited him and was so indignant at being refused entry to the
chapel, saying she was treated like a dog, but when she tried to enter she was
thrown on her back, "as if by a whirlwind". She recovered only at
Bartholomew's intervention.
For most of his 42 years
on Inner Fame Bartholomew spent his life praying and working, he was often
heard striding over the island singing psalms, praising God in his splendid
voice. Eventually he was stricken by a painful illness. Just before his death
in 1193 he carved his own sarcophagus, possibly identical to the one that
stands just outside the chapel to this day. After his death a local cult
quickly sprang up and miracles were reported at his tomb. Bartholomew must have
been both a headache and inspiration to the authorities and a delight to
everyone else he came into contact with.
John Hayward
SOURCE : https://web.archive.org/web/20160821122231/http://www.wilfrid.com/saints/bartholomew.htm
A
Legend of Saint Bartholomew, Hermit at Farne, by Thomas Mozley
A.D. 1193
Any one who reads the
Prophets will see that, while all that relates to the humiliation of our most
Blessed Lord is most literally fulfilled, the accomplishment of those
prophecies which foretell the external glories of His Church is a matter of
faith. Where is the kingdom of peace, of justice and righteousness which was to
trample upon the oppressor and the warrior? The Church is all this imperfectly,
and in tendency; the wickedness of man has spoilt for a time the work of God.
But notwithstanding all this misery, the prophecies of Christ’s kingdom have
found a more complete accomplishment in Christ’s Saints, who have all been
peaceful, compassionate and zealous for justice. Kings and warriors have
literally bowed down before the Saints who have taken up against them the cause
of the poor and the widow. And so it may be also that other parts of prophecy,
which are commonly interpreted figuratively, have received in a measure a
literal fulfilment. For instance, those parts of scripture which relate to the
animal creation may have been fulfilled much more literally than is commonly
supposed, in some of Christ’s hidden Saints who have given up all for His sake.
In proportion as the knowledge of the Lord has filled the earth, so also may
Christ’s little ones have walked unharmed among beasts of prey, or by their
gentleness won to their sides the shyest of the inhabitants of the forest or
the rock. If Christ’s servants have for His sake dwelt in “the habitation of
dragons and the court of owls,” (Isaiah 11:6) where “the wild beasts of the
desert meet the wild beasts of the island,” what wonder if “the beasts of the
field have honoured them, the dragons and the owls,” (Isaiah 34:13,14) “the
cormorant and the bittern.” (Isaiah 18:20; 34:11) He who dwells for Christ’s
sake in the desert, “where the satyrs cry unto their fellows,” in the dry
places where he seeks rest who can find none, must not be surprised if he sees
strange shapes and hears startling sounds. And many of the words and actions of
our blessed Lord seem to show that it is dangerous to pronounce too soon that
the language of scripture is figurative, while at the same time they show such
a strange connexion between evil spirits and the animal creation, that power
over the one would seem to imply a power over the other. During those wonderful
days which he spent in the wilderness, he was with the wild beasts as well as
with devils. He saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven, and with His leave
beings who had once been angels entered into the filthiest of beasts. So also
the eyes of His Saints may have been opened to see the shame of the fallen
archangel; and what wonder if under shapeless and uncouth forms he strives to
scare from his knees the Saint whose prayers and fasts abridge his usurped
dominion.
So also other prophecies
connected with the opening of the invisible world upon the Saints, may have
been more literally fulfilled than is commonly believed. It has been foretold
that the sons and daughters of the Church should prophesy, that the young men
should see visions and the old men dream dreams; we need not therefore be
startled at meeting with such things in the history of Christendom in any age.
It is true indeed that from the moment that our blessed Lord disappeared from
the sight of the disciples, that became an object of faith which before had
been seen and handled, even the glorified body of Him who is at the right hand
of God; yet we know that He has been pleased to show Himself in the reality of
that body to His apostles, Saint Paul and Saint John. Nay one day every eye
shall see Him; there is therefore nothing contrary to faith in supposing that
even He may have appeared in visions to His Saints.
All these openings of the
invisible world, whether of good or of evil beings, are of course subject to
the present imperfection of our nature, and yet this does not interfere with
the reality of them. Our notions of the ever-blessed Trinity are most dark and
imperfect, embodied in human words and human ideas, and yet this does not
prevent there being in them a truth real and objective, which we know can be as
little the creation of our mind as material things which we see and touch. So
again there have been false Christs and false teachers, yet there is also the
One True Christ with the holy Doctors of the Church. The visions seen and the
voices heard by the Saints are expressed in terms, so to speak, of Time and
Space to which we are at present bound, so that it is often hard to distinguish
them from the phantoms of imagination. The clear spiritual vision which the
Saints possess habitually, may enable them to discern heavenly things so
vividly that their meditations may sometimes take the nature of ecstacy,
without its being possible to fix the exact limits where contemplation ends and
vision begins. Again noises are heard in the stillness of the night, which are
drowned in the busy hum of day; and they may have been mistaken for
supernatural sounds; the chill night air may have cramped the limbs of a Saint
as he knelt on the cold stones before an altar, and he may have attributed it
to the agency of the wicked one. He may in these instances have been sometimes
right and at other times wrong, but it would be foolish and faithless to reject
at once the notion that the devil had troubled a Saint at his prayers. Here at
least we cannot weigh our enlightened experience against the
testimony of a superstitious monk in a benighted age, for what experience have
we of nights spent on the cold ground in prayer? As well might the Indian
prince urge the experience of his tender limbs against the fact that the hardy
Englishman ever has to bear the pinching of ice and snow. Again let no one
trouble himself about the danger of fanaticism; these are not practical
questions to us; when we have hermits and monks amongst us, then let us begin
to be anxious about drawing the line between false visions and true.
All this is a fitting
introduction to the life of a Saint which contains in it many startling and
even grotesque stories, which yet rest on contemporary authority. No flaw is to
be found in dates, and many personages flit across the wild scene who appear
elsewhere as real beings of flesh and blood in the pages of history. The life
of Saint Bartholomew is written by a monk, who mentions several persons from
whom he had heard what he relates, and who had got their intelligence from the
lips of the Saint himself. The stories rest on various authorities, some on the
testimony of the rude fishermen who lived on his island, others on that of his
friends; but it is time that the reader should judge for himself.
1. Brother Bartholomew in
the world
Among the hermits of the
twelfth century, Bartholomew is a remarkable personage; his character stands
out clear and distinct amidst the strange tales told about him, one not
unvarying. We may feel startled and disgusted that such a figure with an ill
smell of goatskins should come betwixt the wind and our nobility; but, turn
away as we will, there he still stands to reproach our sloth and luxury, the
genuine product of an age of faith. He was not always Saint Bartholomew; his
parents, whose condition is unknown, gave him the name of Tosti. He was horn at
Whitby, in Yorkshire, in the early part of the twelfth century. The north of
England in the reign of our early Norman kings, was the stronghold of all that
was Saxon; this circumstance, as well as his name, makes it probable that he
was of old English blood; but his companions laughed at the quaint sound of the
Saxon boy’s name, and his parents changed it for the Norman name of William. In
his boyhood and youth he was of a wild and stubborn character, brought on
probably by the jests of his playfellows, and he cared but little about
spiritual things. Our blessed Lord however did not leave him without warning.
One night he dreamed that he was in a place of surpassing beauty, and that
there rose before him an intense light, like a cloud of dazzling white, or the
dawn of a beautiful day. As he gazed on its splendour, he saw our blessed Lord
standing on high, and near Him Mary His mother, and the apostles Peter and
John. Then the blessed Virgin looked upon him with a sweet countenance and bade
the Apostles lead him to her. When he stood before her who was called by Christ
the mother of His beloved disciple, and who is the mother of all whom He has
loved eternally, then with a sweet voice she said to him, Follow thou the steps
of my Son, that He may have pity on thee, and pray humbly to Him who is
merciful. Then William fell on his face and cried three times, Lord Jesus, have
mercy upon me; and the Lord lifted up His hand and blessed him. Twice did this
vision appear to him in his sleep, and once when he was awake; but great as was
the impression made upon his mind, it bore no open fruit till many years after.
Instead of seeking quiet in the bosom of a monastery, his spirit was still
restless and untamed. He left his country, and in quest of adventure, went into
Norway, then the refuge of many discontented spirits of Saxon blood. He had not
long been there however, when he put himself under the direction of a priest of
the country, and made such spiritual progress under him, that the Bishop of the
place ordained him priest. Still there was much in him to subdue; his spirit
was one which delighted to wrestle with the storms which howl through the forests
of those savage regions, and his curiosity was roused by the dark superstitions
which lingered among them. He was once walking with a youth, who suddenly
exclaimed that he saw an evil spirit. Friend, I would fain see him, was the
answer of the priest. The youth said, Put thy feet upon mine, that thou touch
not the ground, and thou shalt see him not only now but always. Then William
laughed aloud when he thought of the strange companion which his friend wished
to provide for him. He afterwards used to relate that he bethought himself just
in time that his faith would be in danger, if he, a Christian priest, had an
evil spirit ever before his eyes. This seems to have contributed to sober his
mind, and he began to think of settling in life, as it is called. The marriage
of priests, though forbidden by the canons, was not then so uncommon as it
afterwards became; and he cast his eyes on one of the fair damsels of Norway.
The maiden smiled upon him, and the father favoured his suit, but Christ had
other views for His servant, and from some unknown cause, he left Norway
unmarried.
Three years had passed
over him since he quitted his native country, and he came back to it a priest
and an altered man; and almost as soon as he had landed in England he for a few
days officiated in a Church in Northumberland. Still however he had not found
his place in Christ’s kingdom; the vision with which his Lord had favoured him
in his youth rushed upon his mind. This seemed to mark him out for some
extraordinary mode of life, and with the energy which ever characterized him,
he at once set out for Durham, where he entered as a novice the Cathedral
monastery. Here when with his newly shaven head and his Benedictine habit, he
entered the Church with the rest of the novices, and as was the custom at
Durham, prostrated himself before the high altar; it seemed as if the figure on
the crucifix stretched out its arms to welcome this new soldier of the cross.
The name which he took in religion was Bartholomew, after the holy Apostle, and
he soon won the hearts of the brethren by the gentleness which now appeared in
his character, and by his fervour at the divine office. He had remained for a
year in the monastery, training up his soul to obedience and humility, when he
was called away to another and a sterner scene. Saint Cuthbert appeared to him
one night in a dream, and bade him go to the island of Fame to lead the life of
a hermit. Next morning he enquired of the brethren where this island lay, for
he had never heard of it. He then went to Prior Laurence and begged for leave
to quit the monastery, to live henceforth on that spot where Saint Cuthbert
lived and died. The good Prior shook his head: a hermit’s life was not one for
a novice, nor was Fame so pleasant an abode as one who had never seen it might
fancy. Brother Bartholomew’s earnestness however at length prevailed, and with
the Prior’s leave, and the prayers of the convent, he set out for his new
abode, early in December, 1151, and in the first week of Advent.
2. Of the isle in which
brother Bartholomew lived
If ever monks had a
prospect of happiness, it was the monks of Saint Mary and Saint Cuthbert at
Durham. The lazy old canons had been expelled and provided for elsewhere to
make room for them, and the discipline of their monastery was at its height
under a holy and learned Prior. The munificence of kings and Bishops had placed
them above secular cares; streams were bridged over, mills erected, and fish
ponds dug, for their sole use. Villages were assigned to them, where dwelt forty
merchants to supply their wants, free of all the customs and tolls paid to the
Bishop. Splendid buildings were rising about them on every side, and their
chapter house had been but lately finished for their use. Their altars blazed
with gold and jewels, and on the high altar was a famous crucifix, adorned with
gems by William the Conqueror. A greater contrast to this religious house than
Bartholomew’s new dwelling place can hardly be conceived. The island of Fame is
described as a circle of solid rock, the top of which is thinly strewn over
with a layer of barren soil. On its south side it is separated by a channel of
about two miles in breadth from the shore; to the east and west a belt of rocks
protect it from the fury of the sea, while on the north it lies open to the
whole force of the waves, in the midst of which it lies like the broken and
defenseless hull of a shipwrecked vessel. Sometimes when the tide rises higher
than usual, and the wild storms of that rugged coast come in to its aid, the
waves make an inroad on the land, and the salt foam is blown over the whole
island, wetting the shivering inhabitant to the skin, and penetrating the
crevices of his habitation. Near the shelving beach which formed the
landing-place, was a low hut of unhewn stone and turf, built by Saint Cuthbert.
A narrow path leads up through the rock into Saint Cuthbert’s chapel; it was
situated in a hollow so shut in on all sides by walls of naked rock, that
nothing could be seen from thence of the wide waste of waters around, or of the
landward prospect on the other side. Saint Cuthbert was said by his own labour
to have deepened the hollow, so that when he knelt in prayer he could see
nothing but the blue sky, bright with stars, far over his head, or resting with
its lowering clouds on the edge of this rocky chamber. Here also by his prayers
a clear stream gushed from the hard rock, according to the promise of the Lord
that He would give waters in the wilderness, and that it should spring forth to
give drink to His people, to His chosen. Rough as was the material of which the
island was formed, two springs welled from the depths of the rock, to which the
sailors often came to water their ships; and this seems to have been the only
natural production on the spot, which could be obtained without toil. This
unpromising place was not likely to attract inhabitants or visitors, and
pirates, sailors and fishermen seem to have been its chief occasional inmates.
Besides the drawbacks
which have been mentioned, the place had an ill name, which would of itself
have kept it lonely. It was said by the people of the country to be haunted.
The islets around it were especially said to be the habitation of demons, and
no fisherman would have dared to moor his skiff to them after nightfall. On one
islet all shipwrecked mariners were buried, and there above all, the howls of
evil spirits were said to have been heard mingling with the rise and fall of
the blasts which swept over the long grass upon their graves. Here also amidst
the fantastic wreaths of mist, the fishermen used to see strange figures clad
in the hoods of monks, and with long beards pendant from their foul features,
riding on goats and brandishing spears among the tombs; till crosses were
planted in the sand all round the spot, and the demons as soon as they saw
them, flitted around and wheeled away into the darkness. It is hard to say why
demons should be supposed to haunt the graves of Christian mariners, but there
were other and better reasons for thinking that the hermits of Saint Cuthbert’s
isle were disturbed in their devotions by evil spirits. Christian corpses were
more likely to scare away than to invite devils; but Satan would have an object
in frightening away the Saint whose prayers were a thorn in his side. “He who,”
says the old monk, whose narrative we follow, “is led by the Spirit into this
wilderness, must of necessity be tempted by the devil, and either practice
himself in virtue, or quit this place which is made for virtue.” The advance of
Christianity had scared away the evil one, so that he hid himself in these
lonely islets, as he had retired into the sandy deserts of the Thebais, to the
wonderful rock of Saint Michael in Normandy, or the shaggy wood from the depths
of which he was driven by Saint Seine.
3. How Bartholomew lived
in his hermitage
Bartholomew did not find
himself alone in his new abode; a monk named Ebwin had established himself
there before him. He had probably also belonged to the convent of Durham, the
authorities of which were still the spiritual superiors of the hermits of
Farne. From this person the new inmate obtained by no means a hearty welcome;
he was so much of a hermit that he would have no one to share his solitude, not
even another hermit. Very few men can bear to be alone; and without a special
vocation, none should make the attempt. Even our blessed Lord did not go into
the wilderness without being led thither by the Spirit. Many men however from
fanaticism, and willfulness, or because their temper has been soured by the ill
treatment of the world, have lived and died in solitude. This is one of the
strange freaks of ill-guided human nature, and can only be distinguished from
religious loveliness by its fruits. Ebwin could live alone, but he could not
bear to have a rival in his loneliness. He troubled Bartholomew’s peace by
bitter taunts, intending to tease him into anger, or to scare him away
altogether. He however failed in his object; a few years before he might have
succeeded, but Bartholomew had learned to discipline himself to patience and
meekness in the monastery of Durham. His patient endurance wore out the
obstinacy of his companion; the island could well have supported both, but
Ebwin did not love partnership, and fairly quitted Fame, leaving him alone.
The reader probably is
curious to know what the brother Bartholomew could find to do in his new abode.
The question however is easily answered; he had as much to do as any labourer
who has to work for his daily bread. He had a cow to tend, and a field, which
must be dug and be sown with barley, and his crops were to be reaped and
gathered in when the harvest time came round. A strange labourer indeed he was
with his monkish mantle, over which was thrown a rough and sleeveless cloak
lined with shaggy skin! When he laid down the spade or the reaping hook, his
labours were not over; he had a boat in which he wrestled with the wild waves
which run violently among the islets and rocks along the coast, or paddled over
the smooth sea where it lay bright and glittering beneath the summer sun. Thus
he was fisherman, grazier, and labourer all at once, and as will appear by and
by, he combined the office of pilot as well. But whatever he was doing, the
wind might drive the rain and the spray, and the sun might shed its burning
beams upon his head, which was never covered by cowl or cap. This however was
but his external employment. There are wonders in the spiritual world of which
men unused to meditation have no conception, and which are to be the employment
of the blessed in heaven. Even on earth the holy doctors have spent their lives
in drawing them out in words; the cherubim desire to look into them; no one
then need be surprised if a hermit could find occupation in wondering at such
mysteries as the Holy Trinity and all the events involved in the Incarnation of
the Lord. Every day he offered up the immaculate Lamb in sacrifice to His
Father on the altar of Saint Cuthbert’s oratory. All day long, whatever he was
doing, and a great part of every night, he was either singing the psalms of
David or kneeling in intercessory prayer. The words of the psalms were sweeter
than honey to his throat, and he felt them burning in his heart the more he
repeated them, so that he said the whole psalter every day once, twice, or even
three times.
While he was thus
striving to have his conversation in heaven, he took care to take up his cross
with Christ, lest his thoughts should degenerate into a luxurious
self-contemplation. He who suffers with his Lord feels quite sure of the
reality of heaven, and Bartholomew bearing his cross over the rugged stones of
Fame, sympathized, so to speak, with Him who was dead and is alive, in a way
which few can understand. A rough shirt of hair was worn by him next to his
skin; the few hours which he could spare from psalmody and prayer during the
night, were spent upon a pallet from which the hardiest of the world’s soldiers
would have shrunk. It was simply a few bed coverings thrown upon a hurdle;
surely no very loud alarum would be needed to rouse a man from such a bed as
this. Long fasts and a perpetual abstinence from meat subdued his body to his
soul; for the first few years of his sojourn on the island, he used to eat the
fish which he had caught by his own labour; but he afterwards gave up even this
poor indulgence. Prayer and fasting are the weapons appointed by our blessed
Lord to subdue every kind of evil spirit. He Himself, though clothed in the
flesh that had sinned was invincible, because He was the Lord from heaven; and
yet He fasted for forty days, and at last felt the pangs of hunger before he
encountered the wily tempter. How then could His servant fire in the place of
devils without putting on the armour which the Lord bad sanctified for his use.
4. How brother
Bartholomew was not always alone
Stern as was his mode of
life, Bartholomew’s body was not worn, nor his spirit broken; his face instead
of being pale and emaciated, had a healthful colour; “so that,” says the monk,
“one would have supposed him to have pampered his body on dainties.” Sadness he
ever accounted to be a sin, and his blithe countenance and cheerful speech bore
witness to the doctrine which he professed. And he soon found that hermit as he
was, he would have numerous opportunities of testing his kindness of heart and
sweetness of temper. The island had ever been from time to time visited by
Norwegian and Danish sailors, and the poor fishermen who lived on the opposite
coast often came to pray in Saint Cuthbert’s oratory before they began their
night of toilsome labour. These were the poor ones of the earth, and the hermit
delighted in instructing them. When the northern sailors were windbound in this
rugged part, he soothed their impatience and even from his own little store
contrived to help them when their provisions failed. He once even killed his
cow, when he had nothing else to set before some poor strangers who had nothing
to eat. His kindness won the heart: of the rough sailors, and his holiness
taught them reverence for the Lord whose servant he was. Christ also enlightened
the hermit’s soul, so that he was able to foretell the dangers of the weather;
and if he bade them go in God’s name and blessed them, they would always set
sail though the black clouds scudded across the sky, and the winds howled and
the waves were dashed against the capes which stretched beyond each other along
the shore. They applied to him in every difficulty, and he thus had numerous
opportunities of tempering their ferocity; they believed that all his warnings
came to pass, and hardly durst disobey him. On one occasion a boy, belonging to
a vessel, had gone down into the boat to fish, and had forgotten to tie it to
the stern; the consequence was, that the boy was carried off by the current
among the rocks and shoals. The poor sailors as usual came to the hermit’s
cell, and cried out, “Brother Bartholomew, come and help us.” He came out
smiling and said, “Why do ye call me, and what will ye have me do?” On hearing
of their trouble, he accompanied them on board their vessel, and (though it
does not appear how) the boy and the boat soon appeared safe and sound. The
captain immediately seized on the lad and took up a stick to punish him
severely. The hermit stayed the hand of the brutal man, and bade him remember
that no one was to be punished in this holy island. The captain replied that he
was not in the island, but on the deck of his vessel; and although the holy man
foretold that he should suffer for his cruelty, he beat the boy unmercifully.
When the vessel returned, the sailors told brother Bartholomew that the captain
had died the second day of the voyage. It was not long however before the fame
of his sanctity brought visitors of a different stamp from his poor friends the
sailors. Every man who lives under a sense of right and wrong must often have been
troubled not only with temptations to visitations of duty, but with
perplexities as to what in particular cases is his duty. He who lets himself
quietly float down the stream of life, knows nothing of the mysteries of his
own being, and of the troubles which may arise in the soul of a Christian
apparently without external cause; but they who venture more boldly forth for
Christ’s sake, soon find that they have an inward as well as an outward cross
to bear. “They who go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business in
great waters, these men sec the wonders of the Lord in the deep.” The soul of
the penitent too is in fearful need of guidance when first the whole horrors of
sin bursts upon it. For cases such as these, Christianity has created a science
of spiritual things, and all the fearful diseases of the religious mind have
been examined and classified by Catholic doctors. Yet after all none is so well
qualified to carry the theory of this science into practice as he who has
learnt by intense self-examination, and by spiritual asceticism to know himself
and the wiles of the tempter. It is a gentle craft which soothes the aching
soul, and pours oil and wine into the wounds of him who has been half dead; and
Bartholomew soon found that his fame as a physician brought men from all parts
to kneel at his feed Men of all ranks came before him in this tribunal of
confession, and many a high born oppressor of the poor bowed down, and trembled
before the goat-skin garment of the poor hermit. Who but such a confessor could
have forced men like the wild border barons of the north to relax their iron
grasp on the spoils of the poor and to atone for their sins by penance? Nor was
this all: many a poor monk who was afflicted with dryness of heart, and went
through his offices with listlessness and distaste, was taught by him to be
patient till Christ visited his soul with the waters of consolation.
The sweet gentleness of
his temper was such that it appeared in his countenance and his gait. Even the
wild birds on the sea shore learned not to fly away at the approach of the
figure, which glided gently by them on the sea-shore, or so often remained
immovable wrapt in contemplation. The habits of the sea gulls and cormorants
which abound on that lonely island seem to have struck Galfridus with
admiration. The evder ducks especially raised his wonder; they came regularly
at certain seasons in large flocks to deposit their eggs, and while sitting in
their nests never feared the approach or even the touch of .man. When however
the young ones were hatched, they became as wild as ever, and the whole party
took to the waters again, and migrated from the island. Bartholomew allowed no
one to cast stones at the birds: he even tamed one of them, which came
regularly to feed out of his hand every day. Unfortunately however when he was
out fishing, a hawk pursued this poor bird into the chapel, and killed it,
leaving the feathers and the bones lying on the portal of the holy place. The
assassin however could not find his way out of the chapel, and kept wheeling
round and round the building, beating against the windows and the walls. At
this time brother Bartholomew entered and found the cruel bird with its talons
and bill still bloody. He mourned bitterly over the fate of his poor favourite,
and caught the hawk; he kept it for two days without food, to punish it for its
crime, and then, seized with compassion, let go his guilty prisoner. At another
time the Saint was sitting on the sea shore, when he was surprised to feel a
cormorant close by his side, pulling with its bill the corner of his garment.
He rose and followed the bird along the beach, till he came to a hole in the
rock down which one of the young ones had fallen. He soon extricated the
trembling bird from its danger, and restored it to its mother.
As brother Bartholomew
had taken upon himself that mode of life of which our blessed Lord gave a model
when he retired into the wilderness, so he suffered also the same sort of
temptations. The wild and lonely island on which he served Christ, had always,
as we have said, the reputation of being the special abode of evil spirits.
Desolate places have often an ill name; amid the hum of worldly occupations and
the glare, of day, Satan appears not, for men think not of him, and why should
he arouse them from their security? but when men of God retire into desolate
places to serve Christ, then Satan unmasks himself, for they have no lethargy
in which he would leave them, and they have ventured into the wilderness, his
own peculiar dwelling place. They are his open enemies, and he has been known
to meet them openly. As the devil under loathsome shapes had striven to
frighten away Saint Antony, so he attacked Bartholomew. Foul and hideous shaped
of wild beasts seemed to frisk about him when he was at his prayers; and
frightful visages grinned upon him out of the darkness. He often felt a hand
plucking his cowl when he was on his knees, and even at the very altar the
devil strove to divert his attention by seizing the border of his chasuble. One
dark morning, when matins were over, and the lamp in the oratory was
extinguished, as he was lying prostrate on the steps of Saint Mary’s altar, he
felt a weight over all his limbs anil a choking sensation in his throat, which
he ever attributed to the evil spirit. For some time he was unable to speak,
but at last he shook off the impediment, and cried upon Saint Mary for help.
This is but a specimen of the attacks under which he suffered, and against
which his only weapons were the sign of the cross and the holy water, with
which he sprinkled his cell.
5. How Prior Thomas lived
and died at Farne
For five years did the
hermit remain at Fame, the only inhabitant of the island; but events were
taking place at Durham which were to furnish him with a companion in his
hermitage. The Prior Laurence had died in the meanwhile, and had been succeeded
by Prior Absolon, who had died also, and had left the dignity to a brother of
the monastery, named Thomas. Up to this time internal peace seems to have
reigned at Durham, but now they had got a Bishop who seemed anxious to be
Bishop and Prior at once. The Priors of Durham were great men indeed; Avhen
William of Carilpho replaced the secular canons with lay monks of Saint
Benedict, he gave the Prior all the ancient rights of the dean of the chapter,
and many more besides. Many fair manors and broad lands were then given to the
convent and carefully separated from the property of the see. Over these the
Prior had the rights of a feudal baron, with Sak and Sok, Tol and Theam, and
Infangthief, and all the various powers which have to our ears a most barbarous
sound, but which nevertheless conveyed a most substantial privilege. Besides
which the Prior sat in a stall on the left hand side of the choir, with all the
rights of an Abbot; he appointed all the officials of the convent, and he
officiated at the altars of the Cathedrals as in his own Church. But though the
Prior of Durham was a great man, the Bishop was a greater, and a prelate now
sate on the throne who was disposed to make the most of his authority. Hugh
Pudsey had been vehemently opposed by the Cistercian interest, that is, by
Henry Archbishop of York, and by Saint Bernard, but on the death of Eugenius
had succeeded in obtaining the confirmation of his election from his successor.
He was a magnificent prelate, and afterwards offered Richard to accompany him at
the head of his own troops to the Holy Land. The warlike monarch however
preferred the Bishop’s money to his personal services, and left him behind as
High Justiciar of England. It should he said however for Hugh Pudsey, that the
monks do not seem to have disliked, though they feared him; at least he did not
go so far as his successor, who turned away the water courses of the monks,
attempted to force his way into the chapter, and all but plucked the Prior down
from the altar one feast of Saint Cuthhert. However Hugh Pudsey seems to have
reigned absolute in the Abbey, and when the Prior Thomas opposed his will, the
monks were weak enough to allow him to he deposed in direct violation of their
original charter. Thomas, weary of the bickerings and cabals among which he had
been living, determined to spend the rest of his days in strict penitence at
Farne.
The coming of this new
inmate was a trial to Bartholomew; he had as yet been uncontrolled in his
religious exercises, he had now to consult the comfort of another. It was now
to be proved whether he was so wedded to his austerities as not to give up as
many of them as were shown to be against the will of God. He began well, for he
threw off the hair shirt which lie had now worn for five years, because from long
usage it had become foul and fetid, and would disgust his companion. An unhappy
cause of discussion however occurred, which marred the harmony even of this
small society. Thomas could not bear the long fasts to which Bartholomew was
accustomed, and Bartholomew would not remain at his meals as long as Thomas
wished. The ex-Prior, though the brother in every respect gave up to his will,
grew angry and called him a hypocrite. Bartholomew remained silent under his
reproaches, but could not wait to endure them; he fled back to the monastery of
Durham, and the brethren were one day astonished to see this strange figure
rise up as it were from the invisible world among them. Thomas immediately
recognized his fault, and bewailed the loss of his companion with tears. It was
not however till the Prior entreated, and the convent commanded, and the Bishop
warned, that brother Bartholomew could be prevailed upon to return to Fame.
This affair was however of use to both: Thomas learned to command his temper,
and Bartholomew also learned a lesson of patience. From that day forth they
lived together in the greatest harmony. Another advantage was gained; the
convent promised to supply them with a stock of provisions and a suit of
clothes every year, so that he could now give alms and better supply the wants
of his friends the sailors from the produce of his own labour. It is not known
how long Thomas remained on the island; it is probable however that his weary
pilgrimage was soon ended. The closing scene of it is all that is recorded. A
brother of the convent, who was present, relates that while angels floated
before the eyes of the dying man, Bartholomew, who was watching by his side,
saw a foul and hideous monster crouching in a corner of the room, and mourning
over the future glory of the soul which was passim: away; and it was sonic time
before he could drive it away with the holy water which lay as usual near the
bed of death.
6. How brother
Bartholomew closed his days in peace
The even tenor of a
hermit’s life does not admit of much variety, and little remains to be told
though he lived in all forty-two years and six months on the island. Towards
the close of his life the invisible world seems several times to have opened
upon him in visions. William, a monk of Durham, related to Galfridus how in the
dead of night he was reciting with Bartholomew the office of the blessed
Virgin, when he saw through the east window the sky shining with an intense
supernatural blaze, which lighted the whole of the dark oratory. The same brother
also related to Galfridus a vision which he had heard from the hermit’s lips.
Bartholomew said that on the joyful night of our Lord’s nativity, after having
said the midnight Mass, he had quitted Saint Cuthbert’s chapel to see if
morning had yet dawned upon the sea, and it was time to begin the second Mass;
on returning to the oratory he was astonished to see at the altar a priest of a
venerable aspect in pontifical vestments ready to officiate In awe and wonder
he drew near, and the priest went through the Holy Sacrifice, and then vanished
away leaving on Bartholomew’s mind the certainty that the blessed Cuthbert had
descended to officiate in the chapel in which he had passed so many hours when
on earth. All these things prepared the hermit to expect his end, and he felt
quite sure that he was to die, when one night as he was watching in prayer, his
bell rung three times with a low and gentle sound, though no human hand had
touched it. Shortly after this, on Ascension-day, 1193, he fell ill, though his
disease seems to have been old age rather than any other. He told some of his
visitors that his end was approaching, and the brethren of Lindisfarne from
that moment often came to see him; some monks of Coldingham whom he especially
loved, also came to visit him for the last time. For seven weeks during which
his illness lasted, he neither ate nor drank. For many years before, he had had
no bed but the hard ground, and now he would not allow one to be made, but
remained in a sitting posture, sometimes even rising and walking about. But
whatever he did he was wrapt in prayer, and hardly spoke at all. Shortly before
he died, the brethren who were standing around were frightened by strange and
loud noises on the roof, and one fancied that a shapeless form had alighted on
the ground, close behind him. The servant of God roused himself, and said,
“Wretch, what dost thou here? thou hast lost thy labour, for thou canst find
nothing in me.” The brethren asked him where he would be buried; he answered,
“I would have my body lie here, where I hope that my spirit will be received by
its Creator, and where I have fought during a very little time for the Lord,
and have suffered many tribulations for that consolation which is in heaven.”
On the feast of the Nativity of Saint John Baptist, he fell asleep in the Lord.
As soon as his soul had passed away, a brother of Lindisfarne dreamed that
Bartholomew was dead. He immediately aroused the convent, and a party of monks
at once manned a little vessel, and crossed the waters which separate Fame from
the Holy Island. When these hooded sailors had brought their vessel into the
little harbour, they found that the brother had spoken truth. Bartholomew was
lying dead; not far from him, they found a stone coffin which he had some time before
procured. When it had arrived, he had laid himself down full length within it.
and had found that it was too short. With his own hands he then had chiselled
out the stone till it was large enough to contain his whole body. In this
coffin which he had prepared they now laid him with many tears. He was buried
on the south side of the chapel, close to the fountain which sprung from the
earth at Saint Cuthbert’s prayers There his body probably still lies, forgotten
and unknown. The spirit however of the holy men who once lived in Fame seems
still to dwell there. It was on Bartholomew’s island that that Christian maiden
lived who not many years ago ventured her life to save the crew of a
shipwrecked vessel, and whom God has now taken to Himself.
– from The Lives of the English Saints, volume 3,
written by Thomas Mozley, edited by Saint John Henry Newman, published by
Scott-Thaw Company of New York, New York in 1908
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/a-legend-of-saint-bartholomew-hermit-at-farne-by-thomas-mozley/
