Posted on 10/16/2017 5:16:19 AM PDT by CMRosary
AT the beginning of the thirteenth century, the plateau of Upper Asia poured down a fresh torrent of barbarians, more terrible than all their predecessors. The one fragile barrier, which the Græco-Slavonian civilization could oppose to the Mongols had been swept away by the first wave of the invasion; not one of the States formed under the protection of the Byzantine Church had any prospect for the future. But beyond this Ruthania, which had fallen into dissolution before being conquered, the Roman Church had had time to form a brave and generous people: when the hour arrived, Poland was ready. The Mongols were already inundating Silesia when, in the plains of Liegnitz, they found themselves confronted by an army of thirty thousand warriors, headed by the Duke of Silesia, Henry the Pious. The encounter was terrible; the victory remained long undecided, until at length, by the odious treason of some Ruthanian princes, it turned in favor of the barbarians. Duke Henry and the flower of the Polish knighthood was left upon the battlefield. But their defeat was equal to a victory. The Mongols retired exhausted, for they had measured their strength with the soldiers of the Latin Christianity.
It is Poland’s happy lot that at each decisive epoch in its history a Saint appears to point out the road to the attainment of its glorious destiny. Over the battlefield of Liegnitz shines the gentle figure of St. Hedwige, mother of Duke Henry the Pious. She had retired, in her widowhood, into the Cistercian monastery of Trebnitz, founded by herself. Three years before the coming of the barbarians, she had had a revelation touching the future fate of her son. She offered her sacrifice in silence; and far from discouraging the young duke, she was the first to animate him to resistance.
The night following the battle, she awoke one of her companions, and said to her: "Demundis, know that I have lost my son. My beloved son has fled from me, like a bird on the wing; I shall never see my son again in this life." Demundis endeavored to console her; no courier had arrived from the army, and her fears were vain. “It is but too true,” replied the duchess; “but mention it to no one.”
Three days later the fatal news was confirmed. “It is the will of God,” said Hedwige; “what God wills, and what pleases him, must please us also.” And rejoicing in the Lord: “I thank thee, O my God,” said she, raising her hands and eyes to heaven, “for having given me such a son. He loved me all his life, always treated me with great respect, and never grieved me. I much desired to have him with me on earth, but I congratulate him with my whole soul, for that by the shedding of his blood he is united with thee in heaven, with thee his Creator. I recommend his soul to thee, O Lord my God.” No less an example was needed to sustain Poland under the new task it had just accepted.
At Liegnitz it had raised up again the sword of Christendom, fallen from the feeble hands of Ruthenia. It became henceforth as a watchful sentinel, ever ready to defend Europe against the barbarians. Ninety-three times did the Tartars rush upon Christendom, thirsting for blood and rapine: ninety-three times Poland repulsed them at the edge of the sword, or had the grief to see the country laid waste, the towns burnt down, the flower of the nation carried into captivity. By these sacrifices it bore the brunt of the invasion, and deadened the blow for the rest of Europe. As long as blood and tears and victims were required, Poland gave them unstintedly; while the other European nations enjoyed the security purchased by this continual immolation.
This touching page will be completed by the Church’s story, where the part played by the saintly duchess is so well brought forward.
Daughter of Abraham according to faith, thou didst imitate his heroism. Thy first reward was to find a worthy son in him thou offeredst to the Lord. Thy example is most welcome in this month, wherein the Church sets before us the death of Judas Machabeus. As glorious as his was the death of thy Henry; but it was also a fruitful death. Of thy six children he alone, the Isaac offered and immolated to God, was permitted to propagate thy race. And yet what a posterity is thine, since all the royal families of Europe can claim to be of thy lineage! I will make them increase exceedingly, and I will make nations of thee, and kings shall come out of thee. This promise, made to the Father of the faithful, is fulfilled once more on thy behalf, O Hedwige. God never changes; he has no need to make a new engagement; a like fidelity in any age earns from him a like reward. Mayst thou be blessed by all, O Mother of nations! Extend over all thy powerful protection; but above all others, by God’s permission, may unfortunate Poland find by experience that thy patronage is never invoked in vain!
|
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.