The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 18, 1898, Page 25

Bpecial to The Sunday Call. BY GENEVIEVE GREEN. ARIS, Sept. 3, 1898.—A white flag hung limply from its staff on the top of a certain train in the Or- leans depot. There was no breeze to make it float, for Paris was hot unto sizzl'..g—hot with the double suffocation that can only come from a great city. Sisters of the Assumption with red crosses on their bosoms hurried hither and thither in the depot, carrying pillows, medicine chests and various hospital contrivan- ces; others climbed in and out of the waiting train transporting and deftly arranging mattresses on the hard boards of third-class compartments. “Passengers for the White train this way!” at length yelled the railroad’s blue-coated official. He flung open the doors of the several walting rooms and at once emerged a ghastly procession, the rank and file, it seemed, of the accursed of the earth. Emaciated consumptives, borne on lit- ters, distorted rheumatics, horrible vica tims of cancer and of eczema without even the outlines of human visage, par- alytic the blind in heart- ren from babi having never seen the light of day to tottering old men who at best could only emerge from their darkn to view the setting sun, the I endless variety, some led in little wagons, others dragging , crawling on hands and 1ing on crutches. woman trudged along, wn daughter in her arms. ffered to relieve her, but was #lmost vicious in her tranger hands should fous burden. T pervaded the air almost un- endurable invalids were installed ard the train. The well and the arty gasped for breath, mopped their and complained of the weather, yng others no murmur Wwas 5 , no complaint. ables, these occupants of , the abandoned of sci- face was joy and 1 hope. odor of nde; sed, bl o whistle blew the signal for good-bys were & and the 1 out slowly, while the magnificat burst from hundreds of mis- the oats of these Iagnificat,” the song of ing and praise from such s se! Could anything be more incon- gruous or con a greater reproach to ue who could see and hear and \lelkl A final glimpse of pale faces against the windows, of blind s turned for- ever upward, and the white train was _—the pilgrimage Lourdes had 1’1?‘?-\2}1“4\ trains of this description went forth from Paris witl. i the fol- Jowing twenty-four hot They were konwn as the green train, thf‘ red, the vellow, the dark blue, the light blue, to Ind €0 on, each one designated by & fiag and decorations of its own color. The annual pilgri S 1 a very important affair in France. estimated that over 200,000 pilgrims 1“1 -':t(he little city of the Pyrenees each vear and of these perhaps £0,000 go at he time of the national pilgrimage be- tween the 16th and the 23d of August. By leaving Paris on the regular train the following morning I arrived at Lourdes a few hours ahead of the pil- grims, who had remained one night at Poitiers. 1 was quite prepared to be disappointed in the town of Lourdes. I am usually disappointed in towns, making up my mind for certain char- acteristics which they do not often On several occasions I have possess. v ; dreamed of picturesque peasants in fantastic gowns and headgear and found instead shirt waists and sallor But Lourdes was no disappoint- hats. ment. I found it exactly as it should be, a beautiful little village in the _heart of the Pyrennes where the moun- tains are gigantic, the streams clear as crystal and the simplicity of the people extraordinary. It was 6 o'clock in the morning when our train arrived. A thick mist hung over the mountains, hiding even the houses from view. From the railroad hare gg stion of the town was yet visik but high upon the mountain the sun was striving to break through the mist and revealed the outline of a mammoth cross. It suggested easily a certain gray morning on Calvary. We found the town already astir. For several days the pilgrime had been pouring in and the little streets were full to overflowing. Beds are always at a premium in Lourdes at this sea- son and the majority of the pilgrims had slepi out beneath the stars or on the benches of the church. There are three hospitals where the sick are well provided for, but the healthy must util- jze the blue vault of heaven. The lit- tle hotels scattered about through the town afford accommodations for a very small part of the crowd and the rates are naturally excessive. The crowd was moving entirely in one direction, but no questions were neces- gary concerning its destination, for the signs on the corners read “Avenue to the grotto of Lourdes and reveled in gone by had I started at pictures of the grotto of Lourdes and reveled in the story of Bernadetto with ecstatic faith and burning enthusiasm and now the real spot was almost before ‘me. Something of my childhood’s ardor for the moment possessed me. I quick- ened my footsteps and found myself before the grotto with the dust of the night's journey still upon. me. Yes, it was exactly like the pictures. The white statue with the blue sash and the pretty face of a Bougourreau Madonna; the hundreds of crutches, some of them rotting with time and ex- posure, the candelebra with its dozens of burning tapers, they were all there exactly like the lace-edged picture that 1 had guarded so carefully in my in- fantile prayer book. Surely Mary, the mother of God, could not have chosen a more beautiful spot for her mani- festations. Here where the mountains are like vast. cathedrals, where the waters are singing eternal praise, it is not hard to awaken one's soul to,re- ligious or poetic enthusiasm. How much more effective it all is than if the apparitions had occurred in some desert region! Near the grotto is a marble slab, on which is inscribed the story of the ap- paritions. It tells us in substance that on this spot during the month of March, 1858, Mary, the mother of \3od, ap- _BRINGING IN love could not be poured out in vain. One after the other in quick succes- sion the invalids entered the blessed pool. This is no longer, as in days of old, visible to lookers on. The door is closed when the person enters and one can only wait amid the multitude to see what the exit will be. ‘“Lord, Lord, you are good, you are powerful, you are mighty,” they chanted, while ecstatically beating their breasts. My heart throbbed with excitement while waiting for the emerging of this first crowd of invalids. I was thinking with sadness of the bitter disappoint- ment, of the eternal loss of faith, should they come forth uncured, when, lo, there they came—the blind still blind, the lame still lame, the cancerous vis- ages as horrible as ever, but marvel of marvels, with no suggestion:of loss of of the Virgin Mary, as expressed to Bernadetto. I doubt that there is any- thing in all the world like this church at Lourdes. The walls are built of the testimonials of the grateful, of those who have received favors from Our Lady .of Lourdes. Besides the marble slabs bearing the inscriptions there are literally thousands of offer- ings of every shape and.design. The swords and epaulets of: spldiers, the dresses of women who . have been healed, the casts of twisted feet, por-- traits, wreaths of orange blossoms—a simply innumerable list, besides a my- riad of golden hearts, arranged in gar- lands, in festoons, up and.down the, length of the pillars, surrounding the windows, in every conceivable design. There are banners from every nation! on earth, from . every ,province in France, from obscure towns and:thriv- ing cities. The wealth of every em- ‘pire, of every land on earth, is repre- sented. Wonderful tapestries, em- broideries from the heart of China, dia- dems gleamins with precious stones and massive lamps of solid gold are simply bewildering in their magnifi- cence. \ Surely if the splendor of the earth be acceptable to Him who rules the sun and the stars, if it contribute to His glory to hear from.the lips of His creatures, ‘“Thou art geed, Thou art powerful, Thou art mizhty,” then, in- deed, must Lourdes be pleasing in His sight. The next day it was simply impossi- ble to find accommodations in the town. I had been fortunate the first night in finding a room, which, however, had been engaged in advance for the fol- lowing days. As my enthusiasm had not yet risen to the degree of sleeping on the doorstep of the church, I con- cluded to go to Pau for the night. By doing so I missed the procession of the Blessed Sacrament, during which a number of cures are said to have been accomplished. They told me that sev- eral paralytics had arisen and walked, that even a consumptive had been sud- denly cured.” There is no doubt that many extraordinary things have oc- curred at Lourdes since the beginning of the pilgrimages. Even unbelievers do not deny that the things are some- times accomplished, but take refuge in scientific reasons. One thing, however, is certain, that the wonders are greatly exaggerated. 'Tis true that the church is built of testimonials, but fully half of \them are unimportant and childish. For instance, many of the inscrip- THE AFFLICTED TO LOURDES. From an Instantaneous” Photograph. peared eighteen times to Bernadetto Soubirous, a simple peasant of the Pyrennes, telling her to see that a church was erected on the spot and promising that the waters would be forever efficacious. Alas, I glanced from the slab to the dozens of “simple peasants of the Py- rennes” already li. ecstasies before the shrine and wondered how much cre- dence it would be possibie to give to the mystical revelations of one of these. 1 could not doubt that many of them enjoyed periodical transports and vis- jons and apparitions—such things are in the air in the south of France, and this statue of the Blessed Virgin which s said to represent her exactly as she appeared—the statue with its pretty, expressionless face, its blue sash and rosary beads, could anything more perfectly depict the fancy of a child? Here in the presence of the grotto and of the people that swarmed about it, the story of Bernadetto be- came to me not less beautiful but only very childish. I felt that one's intel- ligence was certainly an impediment when it came to taking it serfously— but then, what matters all of that! Have we not been told that we must become as little children in order to enter the kingdom of heaven and have not all sorts of things been said about believing and not seeing? By noon the pilgrims had nearly all arrived and the crowd at the Grotto was immense. Again appeared the ghastly file of invalids, of little wagons and of litters. The hour of Immersion was at hand, which to them of unfal- tering faith meant the hour of deliv= ery from their pain. The air was literally torn with the prayers, the be- seechings of 10,000 believers. “Lord, Lord, cure our sick. Mary conceived without sin, pray for us; Jesus, son of David, have merey on us and ‘cure our sick.” Such were the words that were shrieked and groaned and chanted—many of the pilgrims on their knees with outstretched arms, others prostrate on the ground. The piping voices of invalid children and the faint pleadings of half-dead wo- men gave a pathos inconceivable to this woeful chorus. Surely, the peace of heaven must have been disturbed by this volley of prayer; ome felt that the divine powers would have to sur- render, that all this faith and hope and faith, with no shadow of doubt upon them, singing as fervently as before the praises of God. “It was not Thy will, O Lord; blessed be Thy name for- ever.” The woman carrying the woman daughter came panting up the road- gide, hurrving frantically, as 1f she feared that the miraculous water would be exhausted before her arrival She kept ur the same gait until she had passed the portals of the pool. Some- how, I had not yearned for any cure s0 much as for this one. Should that daughter come forth well and strong, I felt that I could scream hosannas with all the frenzy of those about me. From their appearance, I knew that they were poor, the mother probably a seamstress, who had saved little earn- ings of ngany days to pay the expenses of the pilgrimage. In a few moments they came forth, but the one yet in the arms of the other. The daughter was white and fainting, almost unconscious, while the face of the mother was hard unto des- peration. There were written upon her countenance rebellion and despair and blasphemy! Bvery minute of the afternoon, as fast as they could be handled, the in- valids were immersed. There was no time to change the water, and the one pool was used for every variety of dis- ease. Children with blind eyes and twisted limbs were immersed with con- sumptives, the scrofulous and the can- cerous. I did not see a single cure, but the report was circulated about the town and published in the newspapers that four or five had taken place. Instead of waning, the enthusiasm became more intense as the day ad- vanced, and by night it amounted to nothine less than ecstacy. About 8 o’clock commenced the won- derful procession over the mountains. Forty thousand people, each with a burning candle, climbed up and around the mountain sides, singing ‘“Ave, Ave Maria.” It was like a procession of stars. T felt when I had reached the mountain top as though I were sus- pended between two skies. Above the matchless southern heavens, below the mass of twinkling lights in the hands of thousands yet waiting to ascend. The procession ended before the church, the wonderfully beautiful church bullt in obedience to the wishes the mountain sides, singing ‘Ave, Ave Maria.’ tions read like tfl: “Gratitude to Notre Dame for afe journey after a pilgrimage to Lourdcs”; “We thank thee, Notre Dame, for a son born af- ter a pilgrimage to Lourdes”; ‘Marie Marguerite So and So made her first communion in this church on the 17th of March, 1881. . Protect her, O Notre Dame.” As a spectacle, there is probably nothing like Lourdes on the face of the earth. It {s the particular devotion in Europe of the crowds of marvel seek- ers, the adorers of the extraordinary. On the other hand, there are numbers of ‘devout, practical, intelligent Cath- olics who tender thanks unto the Lord that there is no dogma involved in the story of Lourdes, and wonder why an institution ‘founded upon a rock must needs occupy itself thus seriously with the spectacular. Why He Remained a Prince. The Duc d’Aumale was a Prince of the house of Orleans, enormously wealthy, and so popular in his youth that it was thought that he could easily play the role of Louis Napoleon and secure his own election as President or Stadtholder of France. But he died in the. position to which he was born. The English writer who tells the story was standing near the door at a state ball when the Duke entered. ‘“Announce me,” he said to the ser- vant, “as General le Duc d'Aumale.” The man stepped forward, but the Duke stopped him. ‘“No, as le' Due @’Aumale, simply,” he corrected. Before the ser- vant could open his mouth the Duke interrupted him again anxious- ly. *“Announce me as his Royal High- ness the Duc d'Au- male.” But again he stopped him. I will not be an- nounced at all,” and passed into the room in silence. “Then,” said the writer, “I under- stood why he never had been King or Stadtholder of France.” — London Truth. Y N The Winding Way Leading From the Church to the Grotto of Lou MIN NS ¥ “ ,Ifl_ 4 A A it WY ] il rdes. From a photograph. “About 8 o'clock commenced the wonderful procession over the mountains. Forty thousand people, each with a burning candle, climbed up and around It was like a procession of stars. I felt when I had reached the mountain top as though I were suspended between two skies. Above the matchless southern heavens, below the mass of twinkling lights in the hands of thousands yet waiting to ascend.” “The procession ended before the church, the wonderfully beautiful church built in obedience to the wishes of the Virgin Mary, as expressed to Berna- dette. I doubt that there is anything in all the world like this church at Lourdes. The walls are built of the testimonials of the grateful, of those who have re- celved favors from Our Lady of Lourdes. Besides the marble slabs bearing the inscripticns, there are literally thousands of offerings of every shape and de- + sign. The swords and epaulets of soldiers, the dresses of women who have been heajed, the casts of twisted feet, portraits, wreaths of orange blossoms—a simply innumerable list, besides' a. myriad of golden hearts, arranged in garlands, in festoons, up and down the length of the pillars, surrounding the windows, in every conceivable design. There are banners from every nation on earth, from every province in France, from obscure towns and thriving cities. The wealth of every empire, of every land on earth, is represented. Wonderful tapestries, embroideries from the héart of China, diadems gleaming With precious stones and massive lumps of solid wold are simply bewildering in their magnificence.” -