Author: Duncan MacDonald
Category: Cook books
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More monks and nuns were falling ill.
The farmers and their families from the surrounding area, began avoiding St Brigid's. With all the milk maids working in the infirmaries and many monks sick, the Monastery was starting to run out of food.
The Abbess called a meeting after the Lauds prayer meeting at daybreak, of all able bodied monks. She instructed them to visit all the farming communities, and request food. Her final instruction "Don't come back empty handed."
She personally went to see the local Chieftain. He sat ill at ease, when she requested he send food, mead and milk to the monastery.
"I don't know that I should, Reverend Mother." he said "Word has it the Devil has taken over your monastery."
"Who says that nonsense?" snapped the Abbess Harbondia.
"Many people." he said sheepishly.
"I'll tell you what, my good Chieftain. If you don't fill your wagons with food and drink and deliver them to St Brigid's by sundown today, I will gather all my nuns and monks and we will collectively pray to the Lord Almighty. We will pray that your soul and those of all your family be delivered to Hell, and damned there for all eternity."
The feisty Abbess stood hands on hips, looking down on this normally fearless warrior, as he sat bolt upright at his banqueting table, having gone quite pale. His entourage collectively uttered a gasp, and most involuntarily took a step back.
"All right, all right, I'll see that it's done." said the Chieftain, capitulating.
"Thank you." she said dismissively, and turning on her heel, stormed out. The food began arriving by that evening and continued daily.
The Abbess Harbondia fell ill on day twelve. More died over the next ten days. Probably half the monastery population fell ill, but people were either caring for the sick or sick themselves, so nobody counted.
Brother Mullo recovered with pock marks all over his face. By day twenty no more fell ill, but some still died. One of the last was the Reverend Mother Harbondia, Abbess of St Brigit's, who passed away holding Fea's hands in hers.
None of the milk maids, nor Fea, caught the plague.
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* * * * *
6.4 Aftermath
When Brother Mullo came to talk to Fea she seemed listless and disinterested. She blames herself for not knowing more about the plague. “Why don’t you take the Greek texts to a monastery where they do understand Greek and have them translated” suggested Mullo
A great silence settled over the monastery. People went about their duties as if in a trance. Prayers were still said seven times a day, but the great church hall seemed strangely empty. Prayers were intoned but not chanted exuberantly as they had been in the past.
There was little laughter to be heard. Those that survived seemed almost guilty to have done so. Why had they lived yet many of their friends had not?
As it became obvious that none of the milk maids had become sick, it was said that the Lord spared them because he felt sorry for them. It must be because they had endured humiliation for years, bearing those awful pock marks on their hands and arms, and some even their faces.
Dr Edward Jenner: ~ In May 1796 a dairymaid, Sarah Neimes, consulted Jenner about a rash on her hand. He diagnosed cowpox rather than smallpox. Sarah confirmed that one of her cows called Blossom, had recently had cowpox. Jenner decided this was his opportunity to test the protective properties of cowpox by giving it to someone who had not yet suffered smallpox.
~ ~ ~ ~ He chose James Phipps, the eight-year-old son of his gardener. On 14th May Jenner made a few scratches on one of James's arms and rubbed into them some material from one of the pocks from Sarah's hand. A few days later James became mildly ill but recovered within a week.
~ ~ ~ ~ So Jenner proved cowpox could pass from person to person as well as from cow to person.
~ ~ ~ ~ On 1st July Jenner inoculated the boy with smallpox virus. As Jenner anticipated, James did not develop smallpox, either on that occasion or on any future occasion. In 1798 Jenner published his research showing cowpox protected against smallpox].
Note: Jenner no doubt thought the son of a gardener was expendable. I would be more impressed if he had injected himself with the smallpox virus. ~ ~ But what do I know. dMAC
Dr Edward Jenner ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Dr Jenner inoculating James Phipps with Smallpox virus
* * * * *
Fea was utterly drained. Not even the news of Brother Mullo surviving could bring her out of her feeling of depression.
When Mullo came to talk to her she seemed listless and disinterested. He noted that she seemed to blame herself for not having more knowledge about the plague. If she had, she could have saved more.
Mullo thought about this, and some days after the last patient was discharged from the infirmaries, sat and spoke with Fea.
"Sister Fea, you should not scold yourself so. If it were not for your efforts, I'm sure I would have died, along with many, many, other of our friends here. You took charge when everyone was too frightened to do anything. You organized everyone when no one knew what to do. Your tender loving care and your willow water saved many lives. Please don't blame yourself."
Fea sat staring blankly into space. "I should have done more."
"What more could you have done my dear? You worked more than five people, you hardly slept for three weeks."
"What happened to the sailor?"
Brother Mullo smiled "He left some days ago to go back to the river Liffey and find a boat to Gaul. "And that reminds me, we still have all those scrolls from Rome, many by Galen."
"Yes, but you said they are mostly in Greek and no one speaks Greek here." Fea said dully.
"I was thinking about that my dear. Why don't you take them to a monastery where they do understand Greek and have them translated?"
Fea suddenly sat up straight, and Mullo noticed a spark in her eye he had not seen since the sickness ended.
"Where might that be?" she asked.
"The nearest one I know of is at Jura. Brother Slane, who studied with me many years ago, was a Greek scholar. He moved to the scriptorium at Jura. I understand he is still there."
"Where is Jura?" asked Fea.
"Oh, it's an island off Dál Riata, near Iona."
"Near Iona." Fea's eyes widened, then her shoulders slumped. "No, someone like you or one of your scribes should go."
"Not at all. I'm too old to travel, and you have more knowledge about Galen than any of my monks. You would be of great assistance in the translation. You should go Fea."
"Hmmm," interest coming back "do you really think so Brother Mullo?"
"I know so my dear. These documents are too important not to have the best possible translation. I firmly believe you should take them."
"But is the monastery at Jura a joint one like St Brigit's?"
"No my dear, I think not. I recall that a small number of nuns used to live there. Perhaps they still do. But remember our gracious founder Saint Brigit herself, took seven nuns with her to form this great monastery, over one hundred years ago. Why don't you do the same at Jura."
"Really! I mean, I couldn't do that. I'm no saint."
"Well, I know a number of people walking around here now, who think you are. But that aside, it would be marvelous if you could start another mixed monastery in Dál Riata. [now south-west Scotland] I can't think of a person more qualified than you my dear."
"But who would go with me?"
"I think the nuns you call your 'milk maids' would be eager to go with you."
"Perhaps you're right. I'll ask them." Fea brightened considerably and turning gave Brother Mullo a big hug. "You are a wonderful man Brother Mullo. I'm going to miss you greatly."
"And I you my dear." More than you will ever know.
And so it came to pass that all the 'milk maids' wanted to come, but Fea selected seven only, so with her making eight, the same as Saint Brigid, all those many years ago, when she founded her first convent. <
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Fea insisted that there be no fanfare when she left, as the monastery was still in the process of mourning, reorganizing, and taking in new recruits. Many were not even aware she had left to go to Jura.
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* * * * *
6.5 Jura
Brother Hesus confessing to Sister Fea
It was late spring when Fea and her seven companions stepped onto the rocky beach at Jura. The island was dominated by the two peaks called the Paps of Jura, which were visible from the many surrounding islands.
They were given a lukewarm greeting by the Abbott Ecne, who was in charge. He seemed less than happy at the prospect of having an additional eight nuns suddenly included in his monastery, which already contained a small community of nuns.
The women were directed to special quarters in an old wattle and daub hut located some distance from the main buildings. The sister in charge was called Decca. Fea found her to be a gentle, kindly woman, but not a strong enough leader to stand up to the dominant monks. The sisters were excited to meet the new arrivals and the next few days were spent giving the latest news from Éire, [Irish-Gaelic name for Ireland, from Ériu, believed to be the matron goddess of Ireland] what had happened at Kildare, and in particular the effects of the awful plague.
Fea sought out Brother Slane as soon as possible. He was an old monk. He spoke Greek and Latin fluently; but his sight had gone. He was blind.
Fea became quite despondent. The Abbott obviously didn't want to have nuns take an active role in his monastery. She had come all this way to have her scrolls translated and the monk who had been recommended to her could not see. The island was nothing like the green fertile lands she was used to. There was precious little good soil suitable to grow herbs and spices needed for healing. The only thing that seemed to thrive was that beastly purple heather. Oh yes, and it rained all the time.
To make themselves useful Fea and some of the nuns herded the few cows belonging to the monastery and drove them up into the hills, looking for green feed. There was precious little to be found in the rocky soil.
At the end of each day they would bring the cows to the farm shed where they were housed for the night. The attendant was a small monk, Brother Hesus, crippled on his right side. He walked awkwardly, with a pronounced limp, but quietly and efficiently took care of the cows.
One evening as Fea was hurrying to attend Vespers, one of the four scrolls she had been studying, slipped from her carry-bag. Hesus following behind, picked it up. He called out to her but she had already disappeared around the corner of the cowshed, out of earshot.
With difficulty, because of his crippled right hand, he unfolded the scroll.
* * * *
Next morning, as the nuns collected the cows, Hesus shyly approached Fea. "Pardon my lady " he said quietly, head bowed, "You dropped this scroll last night."
"Why thank you Brother Hesus." smiled Fea. She placed it carefully in her carry-bag.
"There are no Dandelion or Liquorice Root on Jura, Sister Fea." said Hesus.
"Oh, that's a shame, but thank you again." said Fea over her shoulder as she hurried after her colleagues.
Later that morning, Fea sat under one of the stunted shrubs that dotted the hillside, reading. Something bothered her. One of the 'milk maid' nuns sat down beside her.
"You seem distracted Fea. What is worrying you?"asked the nun, concerned.
"Something Brother Hesus said to me this morning. As he gave me a scroll I must have dropped last night, he said 'there were no Dandelion or Liquorice Root on this island'."
"Well he has been here a long time, he would know."
"But why would he suddenly mention just Dandelion and Liquorice Root?"
"He must have read about it in the scroll you dropped yesterday Fea."
"No - I have just reread all three of them and there is no mention of any herbs or plants."
"Three? But you have four scrolls." said the nun, pointing at the scrolls on Fea's lap.
"The fourth one is written in Greek. I can't read it." said Fea.
Suddenly, the implication of what she had just said, dawned on them both. Brother Hesus must read Greek.
"But that is impossible," stammered the nun. "He is a lowly cow herder. The literate monks all work in the scriptorium."
"Yes, and none read Greek, except Brother Slane, who is blind. I must go down and talk with Brother Hesus, to solve this mystery." said Fea gathering up her scrolls.
It was after Sext, the midday prayers, when Fea reached the monastery and found Brother Hesus mucking out the cow shed. He looked up happily as he noticed her approaching.
"Brother Hesus, could I interrupt your work for a moment." said Fea sweetly.
"Why of course my lady. Please sit down. You look as if you've walked a long way." said Hesus as he dusted old straw from a nearby trestle with his habit for her to sit upon and then stood, leaning on his shovel.
"Thank you, you are very kind." said Fea sitting and placing her carry-bag on her lap. "Brother Hesus, I have a mystery and I need your help to solve this mystery."
"Oh wonderful. "said Hesus and rubbing his good left hand on his chest. "I love mysteries."
"This morning you told me there were no Dandelion or Liquorice Root on Jura. "
"Did I . . .?" very slowly and now looking anxious
"Come on, you know you did. I just need to know if you read about those herbs in this scroll." Fea took out the forth scroll and partly unrolled it.
Hesus glanced quickly at the scroll and then suddenly dropped his shovel and collapsed on the ground at Fea's feet. "Oh please my lady, I meant no harm. Please don't tell anybody."
Fea was shocked at this response. "But why not? This text is in Greek. You can read Greek. That's wonderful."
Hesus' body was now convulsed with great sobs "Please, please, you don't understand. You must not tell anybody." he was now crying uncontrollably.
Fea reached down and patted his shoulder, trying to comfort the man. "If it is that important, then I won't tell anyone. But first you must tell me why. It will be our secret." She continued stroking him and his sobbing gradually diminished.
"Promise? "
"Yes I promise. I won't tell anyone until you give me permission."
"It will be our secret?"
"Yes, but you have to tell my why."
Hesus sat up and whipped his nose on his sleeve, looking around furtively. They were alone in the dark of the cow shed. It would be a couple of hours yet before the cows were brought down from the pastures.
"I really shouldn't tell you."
"Yes you can." said Fea in a soothing tone. "Think of me as your Personal Confessor." [The Celtic Church endorsed a method of personal confession. One could confess their sins to another close confidant on the clear understanding it would remain secret.
The Roman Church on the other hand originally adopted public confession where a transgressor might have to stand at the church door each week for a year and repeat his/her confession out loud to the congregation]
"I've never had a Personal Confessor. In fact I've never confessed to anyone before."
"Well now you have one. Me. And we both know the rules. Anything you tell me as a confession remains secret. Just between you and me."
The logic of that appealed to Brother Hesus. He straightened up and stared at the open doorway for a while. Fea sat still, waiting.
In a voice so quiet Fea had to lean forward to listen, Hesus began speaking - gazing intently into the past. "My mother was a slave. She was bought by my father who was a merchant. At that time we lived somewhere in Iberia. I don't remember because I was very young. My father was not a nice man."
Another long pause and Fea guessed this recounting the past was very painful. She remained quiet.
"My mother spoke Greek and Latin as well as the local dialect. Although she never mentioned her past, I later surmised she must have come from an educated fam
ily before somehow she was sold into slavery. My father was not as well educated but I think he was rich. My mother told me he bought her mainly because of her language skills. She was not his main wife, just a concubine.
"From when I was very young my mother would speak to me in Greek. But she was worried that if my father knew I could speak Greek or Latin, he would sell me too. So I promised her not to speak to anyone else in Greek or Latin." Another long pause.
"When I was about five, my father brought my mother and me, on a ship to southern Éire. It was related to his trading business. Anyhow something went badly wrong and he sold my mother to a local chieftain. He left us; and went back to Iberia.
"My mother worked as a servant for the chieftain's family. She continued to teach me to read and write in Greek and Latin. The chieftain didn't care, he only spoke Gaelic. My mother died when I was thirteen. I had this withered right arm, so I was no use to the Irish chieftain. I couldn't hold a sword or drive a plough. He gave me to a group of monks. I was passed from one group to another and ended up here on Jura. I have been here for twenty two years."
"But why aren't you working in the scriptorium. You are fluent in Gaelic and Latin and read Greek."
"Ah yes." Another long pause. "When I first came here I did help out for a while in the scriptorium. I spoke Latin but there were no texts in Greek at that time. About twenty years ago Brother Slane arrived to take charge of the scriptorium. He was very strict. I don't think he liked me for some reason.
"One day a Greek text arrived. I was excited and being young, I probably wanted to show off. I started copying it out and translating it into Latin. I showed some of the other monks.
"Brother Slane became very upset. I thought he was jealous because he wanted to be the only one here who could read Greek. But he said I was possessed by Satan and refused to have me anywhere near the scriptorium. He even tried to get me expelled from the monastery, but lucky for me the old Abbott refused. He said I could stay if I herded the cows and didn't go anywhere near the scriptorium. I had nowhere to go so I agreed. This is the only home I have known."
"But why would anyone believe you were possessed by the Devil?" asked Fea.