6 October - Potpourri

A collection of notes related to the date and to this blog*:

St. Francis was first mentioned here, then the phenomenon of his stigmata here. Today is the Feast Day of St. Mary Frances of the Five Wounds (born into the very prominent Gallo family). Despite initial opposition from her family, she entered the Third Order of St. Francis in 1731, and she also experienced the stigmata.

I have mentioned, more than once, the alteration of the calendar to correct inaccuracies. Because of the change described here, and the implementation of the Gregorian reform, 6 October 1582 does not exist in the historical calendars of Italy, Poland, Spain or Portugal.

In the entry on Good King Wenceslaus, I mentioned that he was never a king, but that there was a King Wenceslaus of Bohemia. King Wenceslaus of Bohemia was born on 6 October 1289.

The entry "Not One Iota of Difference" has an image showing what is called the Trinitarian shield. That design, shown here, is the heraldic emblem attributed in the Middle Ages to St. Faith, also known as Sainte Foy to the French and Santa Fe to the Spanish. She was reputedly tortured to death in Rome in about 287 or 290 CE for refusing to make pagan sacrifices. Her name and life seem more legendary than historical, but there is an Abbey of Sainte-Foy in Conques in southern France that holds her relics, and the area has centuries of tales of miracles—often amusing and "prank-like—attributed to her.

Wycliffe's daring translation of the Bible into English was first described here. The death sentence offered or anyone with a copy kept the idea of an English language Bible "off the table" for a long time. William Tyndale (c.1492-1536) produced the first complete English language Bible that was mass-produced on a printing press and that was a translation from Greek and Hebrew versions that were earlier than the Latin version. Tyndale left England in order to be able to produce his Bible, and moved around Europe to avoid authorities who wished to stop him. He was eventually arrested, imprisoned, strangled as a heretic, and then his body burned at the stake, on this date in 1536.

*Plus two UNrelated to this blog: it is the date Frodo gets stabbed on Weathertop, and years later, the date on which Maeve is born.

Good King Wenceslaus

It's far from St. Stephen's Day, but yesterday was the anniversary of the death of the man who is associated with that holiday.

Wenceslaus (c.907-935) was the eldest son born to the Christian Duke of Bohemia, Wratislaw, and Dragomir. Dragomir was the daughter of a chief of a Hevelli tribe from eastern Germany; she was baptized a Christian at her marriage, but remained pagan. When Wratislaw died in 921, the 13-year-old Wenceslaus was sent to his paternal grandmother, (who would later be Saint) Ludmilla, for a good Christian education. Dragomir, angry at losing the influence over the new duke, had Ludmilla strangled, took Wenceslaus back into her care, and started introducing him to her religion (Bohemia was not entirely or steadfastly Christian). Her son secretly continued to practice Christianity, however.

Around 924-5, he became Duke in his own right and gathered the nobles who were Christians to depose his mother. This did not make all well in Bohemia, however, since there were still plenty of pagan nobles who did not appreciate the religion of their ruler. Wenceslaus' younger brother, Boleslav, was pagan, and some of the nobles tried to create a faction around him, hoping to replace Wenceslaus.

But Wenceslaus had plenty of external political difficulties as well. Henry I, the Christian King of Germany, attacked Bohemia with help from Duke Arnulf of Bavaria. The probably reason is that Henry I needed a tribute from Bohemia that had first been established in 895 and had recently been stopped. Henry himself owed tribute to the Magyars, and Germany very likely needed the money it could get from Bohemia in order to make his own payments.* Rather than engage in a war, Wenceslaus swore fealty to Henry and made the payment. The nobles—especially the pagan nobles—would not have appreciated becoming subservient to another country, especially a Christian one.

Wenceslaus, pursued, tries to enter church

Eventually, and for whatever reason, Boleslav and his supporters saw a chance and took it. Boleslav invited Wenceslaus to celebrate the feast of Saints Cosmas and Damian together. He was stabbed on his way to the church by three of Boleslav's friends.

A cult venerating him built up immediately after his death. The hagiographies written about him stressed how he would give alms to poor people. Whether this were true did not matter years later when it became celebrated as fact. Although he had only been a duke, the Holy Roman Emperor Otto I proclaimed him a King, hence the title given in the holiday song. (There was an actual King Wenceslaus of Bohemia, but that was 300 years after the saint.)

His reign was short, and we cannot confirm the piety attributed to him. His legend became very powerful, however, enough to have him proclaimed the patron saint of Czechoslovakia. His feast day is the day of his death, 28 September, but he will forever be associated with 26 December, the Feast of St. Stephen, because of the 1853 song written by the English priest and scholar, John Mason Neale.

And just for the sake of completion.

*The politics of this situation were complicated, and might need their own post to clarify.

Jan Hus, Part 2 (of 2)

[The first part to this is here.]

Jan Hus (c.1369-6 July 1415) was enamored of the ideas of John Wycliffe, creating controversy for Bohemia when the church hierarchy decided that Wycliffe's ideas were heretical. King Wenceslaus IV—perhaps alarmed that Prague was becoming the center of church controversy—tried to reconcile the opposition with a synod in 1412. The synod was a failure: arguments persisted, and Hus and his followers refused to accept the absolute authority of the pope.

Hus, never one to lie low, wrote De Ecclesia (On the Church, much of which was lifted from Wycliffe's writings) in 1413, in which (among other things) he challenged the authority of the pope. (Somewhere, Wenceslaus IV was sighing; but he had worse ahead for him.)

Ultimately, the Council of Constance (1 November 1414) was assembled to deal with the ongoing papal schism and other issues. It was called by Wenceslaus' brother, Sigismund of Hungary. The debates began. After several weeks the rumor was spread that Hus intended to flee; in December he was imprisoned by the church. Sigismund was angry because he had promised Hus he would be safe, but the church officials convinced Sigismund that a promise to a heretic wasn't binding.

Hus was passed around, finally spending two and a half months in chains. His trials for heresy took place in June 1415, during which (as was customary) he was not allowed to have any defense. He offered to recant if he could be proven to be in error. Of the several points on which they demanded he recant, he asked that they not expect him to recant things he had never espoused; also, as a matter of conscience, he refused to recant points they said—but could not convince him—were errors.

On 6 July, 1415, Hus was led into the cathedral where, after a High Mass and a sermon on the need to eradicate heresy, he was condemned publicly and led outside, where he was clothed in his priestly vestments so that they could strip them from him. Still refusing to recant, he was burned at the stake and his ashes were thrown into the river.