Chapter XVI: Apparitions and Miracles

It will be as well, before making the very few remarks I am able to give on the alleged “apparitions at Llanthony,” that I should give my readers a few extracts from Father Ignatius’s oration on the subject, which was delivered on Tuesday evening, May 5th, 1885, at, as far as I recollect, Westminster Town Hall. This oration was based professedly on Hebrews xii. 1: “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses,” etc. It would appear from this oration that Ignatius looks upon the alleged supernatural events at Llanthony as affording witness to the truth of nineteenth century Christianity. Let Ignatius tell his own story:

_Apparition 1._—On Monday, the 30th of August, 1880, Brother
Dunstan went as usual, at 9 o’clock, into the church to take
his watch before the blessed Sacrament. He was kneeling about
twenty feet from the altar. At the south side of the altar
there is a large window, which was not then filled with stained
glass, and consequently a bright light shone upon the altar.
The brother who left the watch had no communication with the
sister who next came in to take her watch. She (Sister Janet)
had been a schoolmistress in the neighbourhood for many years,
and was now an associate of our Order.

The brother had been half an hour at his watch, when he raised
his eyes and saw, in front of the tabernacle, a kind of blue
mist playing. As he looked at the mist, he thought that his
eyes must be affected, and he rubbed them, thinking it was
an illusion; but as he still looked, the mist thickened and
densified, until he saw the Monstrance, or silver vessel which
contained the Host, within the tabernacle glimmering in the
mist, outside the massive door of the tabernacle, which was
locked. This door is of iron, nearly an inch thick. The key was
in my cell, which I had not left that morning because I had
been very unwell, and had had a good deal of writing to do.

The mist gradually cleared away, and then the sacred vessel
containing the Host was plain before the brother’s eyes, and
the sunlight in the window flashed upon it. He saw this for
half an hour, and, on leaving his watch, still looked upon the
vision as he went out.

Sister Janet then came in to take her watch, and knelt down, as
usual, at the screen in the outer church. When she looked at
the altar, she saw the same appearance; but she did not dream
of its being supernatural; she imagined only that the blessed
Sacrament was exposed for some reason or other; but she was
much astonished to find that the Host was exposed without the
usual signs of reverence and devotion which we always render
when we have our three expositions in the year.

We only have the Host exposed three times a year, and they are
very solemn occasions; and we pay our Lord a great deal of
honour during those days. On this occasion there was no light
burning, there were no flowers, and the sister was consequently
much astonished, knowing how particular we are in these matters
of detail and reverence. Directly her watch was over at 11
o’clock she went to the monastery porch, rang the bell, and
asked to see the brother who had taken the watch before her.
When he came to the grating, she said: “Why has the reverend
Father left the blessed Sacrament out?”

When she had explained precisely what she had seen, and Brother
Dunstan knew that the tabernacle had not been opened, he at
once came to my cell to tell me what had happened.

I suggested that we should go to the church. When we went in,
the apparition had disappeared.

_Apparition 2._—In the evening (of the same day) after vespers,
the choir-boys were in the meadow playing. All at once the
noise of the game was stopped, and in a very short time one of
the boys came running up to my cell, soon followed by others,
saying: “Father, we have seen such a beautiful spirit in the
meadow.” The eldest boy, who was fifteen years old, said he
was certain that what they had seen was the blessed Virgin
Mary—quite certain. He said that first of all, as he was
waiting for his turn to run in the game, he was looking towards
an old ruined hut, where there had been a farm-house, and he
saw a bright light over the hedge and the figure of a woman,
with hands upraised as if in blessing, and with a veil over her
face, coming to him. He stood still, and was much astonished
and alarmed. The figure came almost at right angles to him, and
then she passed close enough even for him to see the material
of the garments that she wore. The figure passed off at right
angles, and stood in a bright light in a bush about fifty feet
from the boy. The bush was all illumined with phosphorescent
light. The figure passed through the bush, and the light was
there for some little time after the form had disappeared. The
rest of the boys saw and described the same appearance.

I had all the boys in the church, where I spoke solemnly to
them, separately, and heard what they had to say. I told them
what an unlikely story it was, and that no one would believe
them; and I asked them what could have put it into their heads
to think such a thing.

But they still maintained that what they had said was true.

We watched Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday evenings
after that.

Unfortunately I had to leave Llanthony on the Saturday, being
under a promise to take the duty for a clergyman in the diocese
of Exeter, where we had a convent at that time; but I left
strict orders that the brothers and boys should watch every
night at the same time, about eight o’clock, and then write to
me, telling of any experience they might have.

On Saturday night, Sept. 4th, the boys were out playing as
usual, when, all at once, the same bush became illuminated with
a very bright light. One boy called out, “The bush is on fire
again!”

For some time they watched the light; then they ran to the
monastery to call out an elder brother.

In the meantime a junior brother had come out, had knelt down
in the meadow before the illuminated bush, and had begun to
say prayers and hymns. The boys were indignant because he was
saying collects and hymns that had no relation to what they
considered the vision to be, and they said: “Do not say those
prayers, but say a ‘Hail, Mary’; for we are certain it was the
blessed Virgin. If we do, our Lord will perhaps let the vision
appear again.”

While they were discussing, the senior brother came up, and
he agreed that they should begin to sing “Ave, Maria.” That
instant the figure flashed again, in a cloud of light, in the
same place where the first boy had seen it on the Monday.

As they sang, the figure sent out rays of light, sometimes
appearing behind and sometimes in front of the hedge, and
sometimes coming straight towards the illuminated bush. When
they said the words in the “Hail, Mary,” “Blessed is the fruit
of thy womb—Jesus,” they saw a second figure as of a man, with
only a cloth round his loins, appearing in the light, with his
hands stretched out.

Father Ignatius returned from Devonshire to Llanthony on Tuesday, September the 14th, and on that night, he says, “we watched, but saw nothing.” But, in the words of the oration, Ignatius thus describes the scenes of the following night:

On the 15th of September, between eight and a quarter-past
eight, we watched again. It was a very close, muggy evening.
There was a heavy Scotch mist descending, and the mountains
were looking very dull and the sky leaden. It was so damp that
we did not go into the meadow; but Sister Janet, who was not
allowed to come to the monastery door where we were standing,
went into the meadow.

We were in the monastery porch. The boys were standing on the
front steps; I was standing on the top step; one brother was
at my left, and another brother on my right. Two farmers were
behind in the back of the porch; and a gentleman visitor—an
undergraduate of Keble College, Oxford, now in Holy Orders—was
a little behind me to the right.

I suggested that we should sing three “Hail, Mary’s,” in honour
of each person of the blessed Trinity. We began a “Hail, Mary”
in honour of God the Father.[21] Between the “Hail, Mary’s,”
we, all of us, expressed our amazement at some very curious
flashings of light, which we saw in all directions in the
meadow, like the outlines of figures. That was the impression I
had.…

I then said, “Let us sing a ‘Hail, Mary,’ in honour of the
blessed Virgin herself;” and we began to chant the fourth
“Hail, Mary.”

Directly we began to do so I saw a great circle of light flash
out over the whole heavens, taking in the mountains, the trees,
the ruined house, the enclosure, the monastery, the gates and
everything; the light flashed upon our feet, upon the steps,
and upon the buildings; and from that one great circle of
light, small circles bulged out, and, in the centre of the
circles, stood a gigantic figure of a human being, with hands
uplifted, standing sideways.

In the distance this gigantic figure appeared to be about
sixty feet in height; but as it descended it took the ordinary
size of a human being. At the moment it struck me that a dark
appearance over the head of the figure was hair, not a veil;
but I am convinced from comparing notes with the others, and
also from other reasons, that it was a veil which I saw over
the head.

Ignatius, after mentioning that the two brothers, and Sister Janet had seen the same vision (he does not mention whether the farmers saw it), said: “From that time no further visions appeared.”

Two important reasons Ignatius then gave for “our Lord” giving these apparitions.

1. “For the good of the Church of England.”

2. “For the comfort of those in the outer world.”

Father Ignatius, in his oration, gave an account of his sending, a few days after this memorable apparition, to each of his nuns at Slapton, in Devonshire, “pieces of a wild rhubarb leaf, which had stood up dark against the dazzling garments of the apparition, as it appeared in the bush.”[22]

He then went on to describe how a certain nun at Slapton, “a middle-aged lady,” who had been a cripple for thirty-eight years, was healed by applying the said charm to her diseased limb. I will give you his own account of this supposed miracle.

On Tuesday, Sept. 21st, 1880, just seven days after the last
apparition had been seen, she was quivering from head to foot
with pain. She was going to lie down without lifting her
diseased limb with the other limb on the bed, when something
told her to use the leaf, which she had put, wrapped up in an
envelope, in her pocket. She took the leaf out. She took the
rosary and said ten “Hail, Mary’s”; and, at the end of the
“Hail, Mary’s,” she took the piece of leaf and laid it upon
these painful abscesses. The very instant the piece of withered
leaf was laid upon the abscesses they closed up and the
discharge ceased; her knee was loosened at the joint, her foot
was on the ground, and she was cured instantaneously.

The next morning she told and showed the reverend Mother
and her sister nuns the miraculous wonder of God’s infinite
goodness towards her; and the news quickly spread in the
village.

The vicar of the parish came to the convent, and the village
people rang the village bells, for they were very fond of the
nuns; and, in a day or two, there was a service of thanksgiving
in the Priory Chapel, for the miracle that God had wrought.
There was also an account in the local papers of what had taken
place.

Father Ignatius then mentions other miracles of healing that were, he affirms, wrought by the use of the withered rhubarb leaf. The following words may be interesting to some of my readers; they appear at the close of the oration:

To sum up, then:

A solemn, public testimony has now been given to a most
startling, supernatural phenomena, in a _Church of England
monastery_, in the midst of this unbelieving, materialistic age.

By these phenomena the mysteries of Christianity have been
solemnly confirmed; and the Word of God has received one more
“_So be it_.”

The Church of England has been supernaturally recognised as
a true portion of the Catholic Church, and her Sacraments
acknowledged by a miracle.

The monastic revival, long persecuted[23] because of the two
special points above alluded to, viz., the restoration of the
reserved Sacrament, and the cultus of the mother of our Lord,
have now received a sanction from on High, by these marvellous
manifestations.

English Churchmen have received from God a special approval for
their ancient Church, in spite of her sadly isolated position.

Having thus given, in Father Ignatius’s own words, an account of the alleged apparitions and miracles, I feel sure many will naturally ask me for my opinion of them. My opinion is simply this: I believe something was seen which Ignatius really did believe to be supernatural, but which appearance I firmly believe to have been nothing more or less than a practical joke performed by a certain young man, who never intended it to be taken for anything supernatural, in the serious manner with which it was taken.

With regard to the vision of the “Sacred Host,” I simply do not believe it at all. I believe that one of them imagined it, and told the other about it in some way, and that that other was only too ready to believe it. This is my firm conviction about the matter, and I hope that as I am no longer a nun I have not only the right to have an opinion of my own, but also a right to express it.

During my sojourn at Llanthony, I never saw anything supernatural, although there were some who ofttimes tried to work my mind up to such a state, that it was with difficulty something of the kind was not forced upon my heated imagination.

I recollect a somewhat ridiculous circumstance in this direction, that occurred on the “eve” of the “anniversary of the apparition of our Lady of Llanthony.”

We were watching the procession of the Shrine, and its accompanying and subsequent rites, when suddenly the reverend Mother exclaimed:

“I see something; it’s moving!”

“Where?” I asked, “for I cannot see anything.”

The Mother then pointed to the “Abbot’s Meadow.” There _was_ something moving slowly, and I watched for a few moments, and then said:

“Why, it is the cow, with patches of white on her.”

And so it was, as she was obliged to acknowledge. This Mother I believe often professed to see visions, and dream supernatural dreams; and I might have thought that I saw visions, but being somewhat of an inquiring and matter-of-fact turn of mind, I preferred to be very cautious, and carefully sifted everything that had any appearance of the miraculous about it. For instance, I was once kneeling at the prayer-desk before the “altar,” supposing myself to be quite alone in the church; when I suddenly saw the curtains at the back of the “altar” gently moving for some time, and I wondered what this movement could mean. Then all was all quiet again, and I resumed my devotions, thinking that possibly I had only fancied it. Suddenly, behind the flowers and candlesticks, I beheld a face, and I began to tremble, and feared even to look up again; but at last I did so, and I beheld the reverend Mother, who was, I believe, engaged in dusting. Now if I had been half asleep, I might easily have imagined I had seen a vision of a departed saint; and I think the semi-darkness in which the sanctuary was enveloped, together with the soft rays of the ever-burning sanctuary lamp, can with little difficulty lead the devotee to imagine the supernatural, especially as we were always taught that on the “altar,” that miracle of miracles, or rather that imposture of impostures, took place in the transubstantiation of the bread and wine, into the body, blood, soul, and divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ.

But to return to the apparitions, an account of which I have already given, and about which I have stated shortly my opinion.

I was at Slapton, in Devonshire, at the time they took place, and therefore I only heard what the boys had told Father Ignatius.

He asked us all: “Do you believe them?”

The other nuns said, “Yes.”

Father Ignatius then said: “Do you believe them, Sister Agnes?” I replied, “No, dear Father, of course I don’t. I never believe anything the boys say.”

I had a particular dislike to the monastery boys, and I had often heard from the reverend Father what lying boys some of these very ones were, and as to ⸺ he scarcely ever spoke the truth.

Then, as to poor Sister Janet, she was certainly very eccentric and peculiar, and when any one injured her she usually threatened to “call up the ghost” of her dead father. She once thus threatened a man, and a priest, knowing of it, disguised himself, and frightened the poor man so much, that he refused to go back to the hut where he lived. Apart from this she had her good points, and was Father Ignatius’s devoted slave.

As you will have noticed, the reverend Father was at Slapton Convent during most of the time when the said apparitions took place, and he heard of the visions through the letters of the brother at Llanthony, and I believe he was the only brother at Llanthony at the time, and he was but a novice-monk.

Father Ignatius read the letters to us, and I hardly knew what to make of the matter; but at last the reverend Father returned and saw for himself the most marvellous and glorious vision, after which I very naturally—considering my state of mind at that period of my life—thought it must be true, which in a sense was fortunate for me, for on his next visit he again asked me if I believed in it, and I remember well I replied:

“Yes, certainly, dear Father, I do not doubt _your_ word.”

He then told us that he was determined that no one should stay in monastery or convent who did not believe in it.

And now a word or two about the story of the “middle-aged lady,” otherwise the Novice-mistress, the account of whose miraculous cure I have already given in the words of Father Ignatius.

To begin with, that account differs somewhat from the one I can give; but as I am matter-of-_fact_ in my statements, I think it best to give the facts as I know them, for I was one of the Slapton _nuns_ at the time. Yes, I was a _nun_ then, although life-vows had not been pronounced by me; I was what is termed a “life-vowed novice,” that is, in making my vows I made them “until the time of my profession.” But I have in a previous part of this book explained that novice-vows were to all intents and purposes well nigh as binding as those made in full profession. I merely give this explanation to show you the position I was in at that period when at Slapton. Father Ignatius, in his oration on the apparitions speaks of me as a nun, for, in touching upon the healing of the Novice-mistress in the Slapton Convent, he said:

“Next she told and showed her sister nuns the miraculous wonder”; _i.e._, the withered rhubarb leaf. Now, as a matter of fact, she neither told the nuns, nor showed to them this great wonder; she may have showed and told the Mother Prioress, but no one else.

The Vicar of Slapton came to celebrate, and spoke of the wondrous miracle which had taken place in our midst. (I believe this was on a Saturday, and the miracle of healing had taken place on the previous Tuesday.)

Now, certainly we had been more or less with her all this time, and yet we knew nothing about it; so when the Slapton Vicar gave his address, I was very puzzled to know what he meant.

When the celebration was over, and we had come out of the Chapel, I asked:

“What did the Vicar mean?” and I said to the Mother, “Have you really been cured Mother mistress?” (It was then that I discovered that only the Mother Prioress knew of it.)

“Yes; have you not noticed it,” she replied.

I had to confess that I had _not_ noticed it, and, what is more, I never did, for she still limped, and still does. In fact, I once said, “Mother mistress, is it not strange that our Lady did not quite cure you? It would have been so much nicer if she had!” She replied, “Yes, but I must be grateful for what she has done.”

Now I really did then believe she had done something, but what it really was I could not make out, as I saw no difference in her whatever. In fact, many times have I seen the poor nun flushed with pain at the exertion of moving. Most probably the abscess had run its course and closed naturally just about the time when the rhubarb leaf arrived; and as to the raising of the limb which she had been unable to do for thirty-eight years, we all know how easy it is for some persons to imagine almost anything. But all I have to say is, she was about the same when I last saw her as when I first saw her; and if any one went to see her, they would see for themselves that she still limps. While she was a novice, she had a bad attack, after which a crutch was procured for her, which she used once or twice, and then went back to her old stick; but both crutch and stick had been given up long before the apparitions, though occasionally she would take the stick to go up the hill with, to the summer-house (and I often wished I had one, for it was a tiring climb). Nevertheless the stick and the crutch are now laid at the “Shrine of our Lady of Llanthony” as “_memorials of God’s wonders_!”

I remember how I have looked at this stick and crutch, and thoughts passed through my mind which I need not mention.

Since I finally left the convent, I have been told that a certain young man acknowledged to a priest that he had enacted the whole of the apparition with a magic lantern, and that the priest had written to Father Ignatius, advising him not to say anything more on the subject, or else he would make known how the whole thing came about, or words to this effect. Probably the young man was the railway clerk, who witnessed the boys’ excitement on the subject, for nowhere do you hear of his having seen the apparition himself. Doubtless he was too busy amusing the others. Now I do not say positively the apparitions were produced by a magic lantern, but I was told so, and I think this is the general opinion.