Chapter XXVIII

The Foundation of Villanueva de la Jara¹.

When the foundation at Seville was completed, the foundations ceased for more than four years. The reason was that great persecutions arose all of a sudden against the Discalced monks and nuns. For although there had been plenty of such before, they were not so severe as now, when they almost made an end of us. It shewed very plainly what the devil felt about this holy beginning which our Lord had initiated; and also that it was His work, since it did continue. The Barefoot Brothers suffered greatly, especially the chief of them, from serious accusations, and from the opposition of almost all the Fathers of the mitigated Rule. They so represented matters to our Most Reverend Father General that he insisted on the foundations of Discalced Brothers being discontinued. (He was always friendly to those of the Sisters.) This was in spite of his being very saintly and of its being by his own licence that all the monasteries had been founded except the first, that of St Joseph of Avila; for that was done by the Pope's licence. And because I had helped in this, he was put against me, which was the greatest trouble I have suffered in these foundations, though I have been through plenty. For the men of great learning who heard my Confession and advised me would not allow me to cease helping forward a work which I clearly saw was to the service of our Lord and the increase of our Order: yet to go against what I saw my Superior wished was like death to me; for, let alone my duty to him as Superior, I loved him very tenderly, and of good right I owed him affection. It is true that, even if I had thought well to give him satisfaction in this matter, I could not; because of having Apostolic Visitors, whom I had perforce to obey. The Nuncio died, a saintly man², who shewed favour to virtue, and therefore appreciated the Barefoot friars. Another³ came who seemed to have been sent by God to exercise us in suffering. He was some connection of the Pope, and must have been a servant of God, only that he had begun to have it much at heart to shew favour to the Fathers of the Mitigation: and agreeably to their reports of us, he quite made up his mind that it was not a good thing that our beginnings should go forward. So he began to carry this out with the greatest rigour, censuring those who he thought might be able to resist him, imprisoning and banishing them.

Those who suffered most severely were Father Fray Antonio of Jesus, the one who began the first monastery of Barefoot Carmelites, and Father Fray Gerónimo Gracian, whom the late Nuncio had made Apostolic Visitor of the Fathers of the Mitigation. He was greatly displeased with him and with Father Mariano de San Benito. These Fathers I have described in the account of the former foundations. Others of the more considerable Fathers he punished, but not so severely. These he bound under heavy penalties not to take any part in the affairs of the Order. It can be well seen that all this came from God, and that His Majesty permitted it for the best and that the virtue of these Fathers might be better known; as in fact it has been. He appointed one of the mitigated Rule as Superior, to visit our monasteries of nuns and friars: and a grievous trouble it would have been if all that he proposed had come to pass. And so we suffered exceedingly, as will be told by someone who knows how to say it better than I.

I am only touching on it, so that nuns to come may understand how great is their obligation to keep up their perfection, since they find smooth and easy what has cost the present nuns so dear: for some of them suffered greatly during that time from serious accusations, for which I was much more sorry than for what I myself suffered: for my own sufferings were a great happiness to me. It seemed to me that I was the cause of all this storm; and that if they threw me into the sea like Jonas, the tempest would cease.

Praised be God Who defends the truth! He did so now: for when our Catholic King Don Felipe heard what was taking place, and was told of the life and Rule of the Barefoot Carmelites, he took up our cause in this way, that he would not allow the Nuncio alone to decide our case, but gave him four assistants, men of weight, three of them members of Religious Orders, in order that our right might be fairly considered. One of them was Father Master Friar Pedro Fernandez, a man of very holy life and of great learning and understanding. He had been Apostolic Commissary and Visitor of the Friars of the Mitigation in Castille. To him we Barefoot Carmelites also were subject, and he very well knew the truth as to how each sort lived: and all of us desired nothing but that this should be known⁴. Therefore when I heard that the King had appointed him, I reckoned the affair as settled, as indeed by the mercy of God it is. May it please His Majesty that it may be to His honour and glory. Although there were many Lords of the realm and Bishops who hastened to tell the Nuncio the truth, little would it all have availed if God had not made employment of the King.

We all, sisters, are under a great obligation to commend him continually to our Lord in our prayers, and the others, too, who have helped forward the cause of our Lord and of our Lady the Virgin: therefore I earnestly commend it to you. You can well see, sisters, what opportunity there was for making new foundations! We all occupied ourselves without ceasing in prayers arid penances that God would preserve and continue the already existing foundations, if they were to be to His service.

These great troubles, narrated so briefly, will seem small to you; but having been endured such a long time, they really were very great.

At the time of their beginning I was at Toledo, for I had come from the foundation at Seville, in the year 1576. There a cleric of Villanueva de la Jara brought me letters from the Corporation of that town, and came to negotiate with me about accepting as a Convent nine women who, some years before, had entered all together into a hermitage of the glorious St Anna in that place, which had a little house next door. They lived there with retirement and sanctity so great that it made the whole town wish to obtain the accomplishment of their desire; which was, to become nuns. There wrote to me also the parish priest, Doctor Augustin Ervias, a learned and virtuous man. His virtue made him help as much as he could in this holy undertaking.

To me it seemed not by any means fitting to accept the Convent, for the following reasons. The first, that there were so many of them, and it seemed to me very difficult for them, when they were fashioned to their own way of living, to accommodate themselves to ours. The second, that they possessed hardly any means of subsistence, and the town had little more than a thousand inhabitants, which is little to reckon on for living on alms; and although the Corporation offered to maintain them, that did not seem to me a lasting security. The third, that they had no house. The fourth, that it was a long way from the other convents. And although I was told that they were very good, yet as I had not seen them, I could not tell whether they possessed the qualifications which we require in our convents. So I resolved to decline altogether. With this view I sought first to speak to my confessor, who was Dr Velasquez, a Canon and Professor at Toledo, a very learned and good man, now Bishop of Osma; for my custom always is to do things not according to my own judgement, but that of people such as he. When he saw the letters and understood the affair, he told me not to decline, but to give a favourable answer; because when God united so many hearts in one purpose, it was clear that it was to be to His service. So I did; for I neither altogether accepted nor declined. They went on asking for the foundation and getting people to persuade me to make it; and so the time went by until the year 1580, I all the time thinking it would be foolish to accept. When I answered them, I never could answer altogether unfavourably.

It happened that Father Fray Antonio of Jesus, in fulfilment of his sentence of banishment, went to the Monastery of our Lady of Succour, which is three leagues from the town of Villanueva; and he used to preach at Villanueva, and the Prior of the Monastery, Father Fray Gabriel of the Assumption, a very clear-sighted man and a servant of God, also went a great deal to Villanueva; for they were friends of Dr Ervias. They began to speak with those saintly Sisters: and being much taken with their goodness, and being persuaded by the townspeople and by the Doctor, they made the affair their own, and began persuading me very vigorously by letter. And when I was at St Joseph's at Malagon, which is twenty- six leagues or more from Villanueva, the Father Prior himself came over to speak to me about it, telling me in detail what could be done, and how, after it was done, Dr Ervias would give three hundred ducats a year out of what he got from his benefice: and that leave could be got from Rome. This seemed to me very doubtful, as there might be slackness in payment after the Convent was made: for it was quite enough together with the little the Sisters possessed. Therefore I gave the Father Prior many and to my mind sufficient reasons for him to see that it was not fitting to make the foundation. I told him to consider it well, together with Father Antonio; and that I left it to their conscience. For I thought that what I had said was sufficient to prevent them. After he was gone, I considered how much he was taken with the idea, and I felt almost sure he would persuade our present Superior, Master Fray Angel de Salazar, to accept the foundation. So I made great haste to write to the Superior, begging him not to give the licence, and telling him my reasons. And as he has since told me in writing, he would not have given it, except with my approval.

About six weeks passed, or it may have been a little more. When I fairly thought I had got it stopped, a messenger was sent me with letters from the Corporation, formally undertaking that the Sisters should not lack necessaries; from Dr Ervias, promising what I have mentioned; and most urgent letters from the two Reverend Fathers. I greatly dreaded accepting so many Sisters, thinking there would be sure to be some party, as usually happens, against the Sisters who went from us. Also I did not see sufficient security for their maintenance; for what they offered was not entirely secure. So I was greatly perplexed. Afterwards I saw that it was the devil: for, although the Lord has given me courage, I was at that time so pusillanimous that I seemed not to have any confidence in God. But the prayers of those saintly souls at last prevailed.

One day I had made my Communion, and was commending the thing to God, as I often did. (For what had made me answer favourably at first was my fear of hindering some good to any souls; for my desire always is for any means whereby our Lord may be praised and may have someone more to serve Him.) Then His Majesty gave me a severe rebuke, asking, With what riches had all been accomplished which had been accomplished so far? And that I was not to hesitate to accept this house; for it would be greatly to His service and the benefit of souls.

The words of God are so powerful that not only does the understanding understand them, but they also enlighten it to understand the truth, and they dispose the will to desire to practise it. Thus was it with me: for not only did I think with pleasure of accepting the Convent, but I felt I had been to blame in delaying so long, and being so wedded to human reasonings, since that which I have seen of His Majesty's work for our holy Rule has been so much above reason. Having determined to accept this foundation, I thought I would go with the nuns who were to live there. This was for many reasons which came into my mind, although it was much against the grain; for I had come from Malagon very unwell, and was so still. But, thinking it would be to our Lord's service, I wrote to the Superior to order me to do whatever he thought best. He sent the licence for the foundation and instructions to me to go in person, and to take whichever nuns I thought best. This was a serious anxiety to me, because of their having to live with those who were there already. Earnestly commending it to our Lord, I took two from the Convent of St Joseph at Toledo, one of them as Prioress; and two from that of Malagon, one as Sub-Prioress, And, having been the subject of so many prayers to His Majesty, it all turned out well, which I thought no small matter — for in foundations begun with our own Sisters alone, they all fit in well together.

There came for us Father Fray Antonio of Jesus and the Father Prior, Fray Gabriel of the Assumption. Having obtained all necessary securities from the town of Villanueva, we started from Malagon on the Saturday before Lent, February 13th, 1580. It pleased God to give us such fine weather, and to me such good health, that I seemed never to have been ill. And I was amazed, and considered of what great moment it is, in any matter which we see is to the Lord's service, not to pay attention to our own weakness and the difficulty which that opposes to us: since He has power to make the weak strong and the sick whole. And should He not do so, it will be better for our soul to suffer and to forget ourselves, fixing our eyes on His honour and glory. What is life and health for, but to lose it for so great a King and Lord? Believe me, Sisters, that if you go by that way it will never go ill with you. I confess that my badness and weakness have often made me fear and hesitate: but I cannot remember a single time, since the Lord gave me the Barefoot habit, nor for some years before that, that He has not, of His sole mercy, given me grace to overcome such temptations and to throw myself into what I saw was to His greater service, however difficult it might be. I quite clearly understand how little was what I on my part did: but God requires nothing beyond such a resolve in order to do everything Himself. May He be for ever blessed and praised! Amen.

We had to go to the monastery of our Lady of Succour, which, as I have said, is three leagues from Villanueva, and to

T. P. 14 wait there to give notice of our arrival: for so they had arranged, and it was right that I should obey the Fathers with whom we were going in every particular. This monastery is situated in a most delightfully wild uninhabited country. And when we came near, the friars came out in very orderly array to receive their Prior. As they advanced barefooted and in their poor serge cloaks, they touched the hearts of us all, and me they moved deeply, making me feel as though we were in the spring time of our holy forefathers. They looked like so many white fragrant flowers in that field; and so I believe they are in God's sight, for I think He is served there with genuine sincerity. They entered the chapel with a Te Deum, sung with very subdued voices. The entrance is underground as through a cave, representing that of our father Elias. I entered in a state of such inward rejoicing that indeed I should have thought it well worth a longer journey: although I felt deep regret that the saint through whom our Lord had founded this house was already dead. It had not been vouchsafed me to see her, though I greatly desired it.

I think it will not be idle to relate something of her life and under what conditions our Lord was pleased to have the monastery founded there, which, as I am told, has been so profitable to many souls in the neighbouring villages. And I tell it that, hearing of that saint's penance, you, my Sisters, may see how far behind we lag, and may make efforts to serve our Lord anew. For we have no excuse for doing less than she, since we are not sprung of a race so gentle and noble as hers: for, although this is of no importance in itself, I say it because she had led a luxurious life, agreeably to her estate, for she was of the family of the Duke of Cardona: thus her name was Dona Catalina de Cardona. After she had written me a few letters, she used to sign herself only The Sinner. Of her life before the Lord gave her such graces, those who write her Life will speak, and will relate in greater detail all that there is to be told of her. In case that should not come into your hands, I will here set down what I have been told by various trustworthy people who had dealings with her.

While this saint was living among people and ladies of high rank, she always was very careful of her soul, and did penance. The desire for penance increased greatly in her, and for going away by herself where she could enjoy communion with God and be occupied in doing penance, without anyone to hinder her. She spoke of this to her confessors, and they would not consent. And, as the world is now so very prudent and we have all but forgotten the great graces which God has bestowed on holy men and women who served Him in the deserts, I do not wonder at their thinking it folly. But, as His Majesty never fails so to assist sincere desires that they may be carried into effect, He appointed that she should go to confession to a Franciscan Father, Fray Francisco de Torres, a man whom I used to know well, and I consider him a saint. He has lived these many years in great fervour of penance and prayer, and in abundant persecutions. He must have known very well what grace God gives to those who will do themselves violence to receive it: so he told her not to delay, but to follow His Majesty's call. I do not know that those were his exact words; but that was what she understood, for she put it in practice immediately. She told her secret to a hermit who lived at Alcala, and begged him to go with her, and never to tell anyone: and they arrived at the place where the monastery now stands. There she found a little cave which hardly gave her shelter; and there he left her. But what love must have borne her there! for she felt no anxiety about what she would have to eat, nor about the dangers that might befall her, nor about the evil that might be said about her when she was found to be missing. How inebriated that saintly soul must have been, engrossed with the desire of enjoying undisturbed communion with her Spouse, and resolved to care no more for the world, since she thus fled from all its pleasures! Let us think well over this, Sisters, and consider how she overcame all at one blow. For, although what you do is no less than what she did when you enter our holy Order, and offer to God your will, and vow such constant enclosure, yet I could not say that in some of us our first fervour does not pass away, so that in some points we fall back under the sway of our own self-love. May it please the Divine Majesty that thus it may not be, but that as we have imitated this saint in choosing to flee from the world, we may live in every way very far from it in spirit.

I have heard a good many details of the great severity of her life, and what is known of it can only be a small part: for, living so many years as she did in that solitude, and having no one to restrain her, and with such strong desires for penance, she must have illtreated her body terribly. I will relate what she herself told various people, especially the nuns of St Joseph of Toledo, into which she went to see the nuns, and talked to them as to sisters, with all openness. So she did to other people; for her simplicity was great, and so must have been her humility. And as one who knew as a matter of course that she had nothing of herself, she was very far from vainglory, but delighted in telling of the graces which God bestowed on her, that through them His Name might be praised and glorified: a dangerous thing for those who have not attained to her condition, because it may at least seem to be to their own praise. That openness and holy simplicity of hers must have kept her free from this; for I have never heard her charged with this fault.

She said she had spent eight years in that cave. For many days she lived on wild herbs and roots. The hermit who went with her left her three loaves; but when those were finished, she had no more until a shepherd lad passed that way, who from that time provided her with bread and flour. This was what she had to eat, little cakes baked on the ashes, and nothing else; this every third day. And it is certainly true, for the friars who live there are also witnesses thereof: for although when she went about to try to found a monastery, when she was already much worn out, they sometimes made her eat a sardine or something, it did her more harm than good. She never drank wine that I heard of. Her disciplines were taken with a sort of thick chain, and she often went on with them two hours or an hour and a half. Her hair shirts terribly sharp. For a certain person, a woman, told me that once, on her return from a pilgrimage, she had stayed for the night with her, and had pretended to be asleep, and saw her take off her hair shirt soaked with blood, and wash it. According to what she told the St Joseph's nuns, the worst she went through was from the evil spirits; for they appeared to her like so many great mastiffs and jumped on her shoulders, and sometimes like snakes: but she was not in the least afraid of them. After she had founded the monastery, she went just the same to her cave to live and sleep, except for attending the Divine Office. Before it was founded, she used to go to mass at a monastery of the Ransomers, a quarter of a league off, and sometimes went there on her knees. Her dress was of coarse cloth with a tunic of serge, and was so fashioned that she was taken for a man. After those years during which she lived there so lonely, it pleased the Lord that it should be made known and people began to honour her so highly that she did not know what to do, for the crowds they came in. She spoke to all with great charity and kindness. The longer this went on, the greater the concourse of people who resorted to her; and anyone who succeeded in getting speech of her thought no little of it. She got so tired with it, she said they were killing her. The time came when all the plain was fall of carriages. Just after the friars were settled there, there was nothing else to be done but to lift her up on high to give the people the blessing, and so dismiss' them.

After the eight years when she was living in the cave (which now was larger, because those who resorted there had made it so) she had a very serious illness of which she thought she should die; and she went through it all in that cave. She began to entertain desires for a monastery of friars in that place; and this continued for some time, she not knowing of what Order to make it. But one day while she was reciting her prayers before a crucifix which she always carried with her, our Lord shewed her a white cloak, and she understood that it was the cloak of the Discalced Carmelites; and yet she had never heard that there were such Brothers in the world: and at that time there were only two monasteries founded, those of Mancera and Pastrana. After this, she must have got information about them. She heard that there was one at Pastrana: and as the Princess of Eboli, Prince Ruy Gomez' wife, to whom Pastrana belonged, was a very old friend of hers, she started for Pastrana to see how to found this monastery which she so greatly desired. There in the chapel of St Peter — for so it was called — in the monastery of Pastrana, she took the habit of our Lady, although not with the intention of being a professed nun. For as the Lord was guiding her by another way, she never was inclined to be a nun, but thought it would mean her having to give up on obedience her purposes of mortification and solitude. In the presence of all the Brothers, she received the habit of our Lady of Carmel. Father Mariano, of whom I have before spoken in my account of these foundations, happened to be there: and he told me myself that it put him into a trance or suspension so that his senses were quite gone. And that, in this state, he saw many friars and nuns dead, some decapitated, others with their legs and arms cut off, as martyrs: for so in this vision he understood they were. And he is not a man who would say it if he had not really seen it; no more is he accustomed to such suspensions: for God does not lead him by that way. Ask of God, Sisters, that it may come true, and that in our time we may be worthy to see so great a good, and have part in it ourselves.

From that time at Pastrana the saintly Cardona began to work towards founding her monastery, and for that purpose she returned to the Court whence she had so gladly departed. This can have been no slight torment to her. Nor were there lacking slanders and troubles; for whenever she went out of the house, she did not know what to do for the mob that followed her. This was the case wherever she went. Some cut off pieces from her habit, some from her cloak. After that, she went to Toledo, where she stayed with our nuns. They all have assured me that there was about her so strong an odour as of relics that, even after she left them there, the habit and cincture retained it very strongly, moving the nuns to praise the Lord. And the nearer the nuns came to her, the better the odour; when naturally the odour of such garments, with the heat, which was great, would rather have been unpleasant. (The nuns took her habit from her, and gave her another.) I know that they would not say anything that was not quite true. Thus she left them greatly edified.

At the Court and elsewhere she was given the means to make her monastery, and when she had obtained the licence, it was founded. The chapel was built where her cave had been, and they made another cave for her in a retired spot, where she had a stone tomb, and there she spent most of the day and night. This did not last long; for she only lived about five and a half years after she had the monastery there. And indeed, that she should have lived even so long seems a supernatural thing, considering the austerity of her life. Her death took place in 1577, if I remember rightly. Her last honours were performed with great solemnity; for there was a gentleman named Fray Juan de Leon who was greatly devoted to her, who made a great point of this. She is now buried temporarily in a chapel of our Lady, to whom she had a great devotion, until a larger chapel than they now possess shall be built to receive her blessed corpse, as is fitting. Great is the devotion of the monastery and of the whole neighbourhood to her memory; especially because of her solitude and the cave where she lived before she resolved to found the monastery; and therefore her body has rightly been left there.

The monks assured me that she was so wearied and distressed at finding what a number of people came to see her that she wanted to go somewhere else where nobody had heard of her: and she sent for the hermit who had brought her there to come and fetch her; but he was dead. And our Lord, having purposed that this house of our Lady should be established there, gave her no chance of departing; for, as I have said, I know that He is greatly served there. They are very careful in their observance, and it can well be seen that they like being withdrawn from human habitation, particularly the Prior. For God brought him out from a life of great enjoyment to take the habit, and so He has well rewarded him with spiritual joys. He was very kind to me there. They gave us some of their chapel furniture for the chapel which we were going to found: for, as that saintly woman was beloved by many great people, the chapel was well provided with fittings.

I was very happy while I stayed there, although filled with shame — and it has not left me. For I saw that she who there had done such sharp penance was a woman like myself, but more delicate, being of such high estate, and not a great sinner as I am; and that in this there is no comparison between us: and I have received of our Lord much greater favours in many ways; and my not being already in hell, by reason of my great sins, is a very great one. The thought of imitating her, if I could, was the only thing which comforted me, but not much: because all my life has gone by in desires, but the works I do not. May God's mercy help me, in Whom I have always trusted through His Most Blessed Son, and the Virgin our Lady, whose habit I wear through the goodness of the Lord!

One day when I had made my Communion in that hallowed chapel, I fell into a deep abstraction and a suspension which took away my senses. During this state, that saintly woman appeared to me in an intellectual vision as a glorified body, and some angels with her. She told me not to be discouraged, but to endeavour to go forward with these foundations. I know, although she did not expressly say so, that she was aiding me before God. She said something else as well, which I need not write down.

This left me greatly consoled and with a desire for work; and I hope in the goodness of the Lord, that with such good aid as her prayers, I may be able in some degree to serve Him.

You see hereby, my Sisters, how her troubles were already ended, and the glory which is now hers will be without end. Let us, for the love of our Lord, make an effort to follow this our Sister, hating ourselves as she hated herself; let us accomplish our day's work, since it is so short, and all will be at an end.

On the first Sunday of Lent, which was St Barbacian's Day, the Eve of the Festival of the Chair of St Peter, 1580, we arrived at Villanueva de la Jara. That same day the Blessed Sacrament was brought into the chapel of St Anne, at the time of High Mass. All the Corporation came out to meet us, and Dr Ervias and some others, and we went and alighted at the parish church, which is a long way from St Anne's.

All the people were rejoicing greatly, and it made me happy indeed to see the joy with which they received the Order of the Blessed Virgin our Lady. From afar off we could hear the pealing of the bells. As we entered the church, they began singing the Te Deum, the choir chanting one verse and the organ the next. When that was over, they carried the Blessed Sacrament shoulder high on a bier, and an image of our Lady in like manner, with crosses and banners. The procession travelled with great pomp. We in our white cloaks and our veils over our faces walked in the middle, next to the Blessed Sacrament, and next to us our Barefoot Brothers — for a great many came from the monastery. The Franciscans — for there is a Franciscan monastery in the town — went in the procession, and a Dominican Brother who happened to be in the place; and although he was alone, it gave me pleasure to see that habit there. As it was a long distance, there were many altars on the way: and they stopped from time to time, reciting poems about our Order. We were greatly touched by this and by seeing that all the poems were in praise of the great God Whom we were bearing with us, and that for His sake so much was made of us seven poor insignificant Barefoot nuns who were walking along there. It filled me with confusion when I considered all this, seeing that I was walking among them, and that if I had what I deserved, everyone would be turning against me.

I have given you a long account of these honours done to the habit of the Virgin, that you may praise our Lord and pray that He may make use of this foundation. For I am happier when a foundation is begun amidst persecution and troubles, and I narrate those with a better will.

It is true that the Sisters who were living there had been through many during those six years — or at least five and a half — since they entered that house of the glorious St Anne; besides their deep poverty and their toil in earning their living. For they never liked to ask for alms, because they did not wish people to think they had gone there that they might feed them. They lived very austerely, fasting much, eating little, with uncomfortable beds, and in a very tiny house, which last was a real hardship for people so strictly enclosed as they always were. They told me that the hardest thing to bear was their sore desire to see themselves in the habit: for day and night this troubled them sorely, fearing it would never come to pass. So their constant prayer to God, with frequent tears, was that He would bestow that favour upon them. And when they saw that there was some hitch, they were in great affliction and redoubled their penances. They went without food in order to save from their earnings the pay of the messengers whom they sent to me, and to make such presents as their poverty permitted to those who could in any way help forward their cause. I see very well, since I have spoken with them and seen their saintliness, that it was their prayers and tears which effected their reception into the Order. Therefore I hold it a greater treasure to have such souls within the Order than if they had possessed an ample endowment; and I hope the house will advance greatly.

. Well, when we entered the house, they were all at the inner door, each in her own costume: they had gone on dressing just as when they came in; for they had never chosen to adopt the dress of beatas⁵, but were waiting in hopes of our habit. However, their apparel was very sober: and the little care they took of themselves was shewn by their being so badly dressed; and most of them were so weakly that it shewed how severe a life they had led. They received us with abundant tears of joy. These were obviously genuine, and so was their goodness, their cheerfulness and humility and obedience to the Prioress: and they did not know how to do enough to please the nuns who had come for the foundation. All their fear was lest, when they saw their little house and their poverty, they might go away again. None of them was head; but with great Community spirit each worked as hard as she could. Two who were older than the others, transacted any necessary business: the others never spoke to anyone, nor wished to do so. They had no lock to the door, but only a bolt; and no one ventured to go to the door but the eldest, who answered. They slept very little in order to work for their food and not to lose their prayer time: for they kept long hours, on Festivals the whole day. They guided themselves by the books of Fray Luis of Granada and Fray Pedro of Alcantara. Most of their time they spent in reciting the Divine Office, though they could read but little — for there was only one of them who could read well — and had not Breviaries alike.

Some they had of the old Roman⁶ Use, given them by priests because they were of no use to themselves, others they had got as they might: and, as they could not read, they spent many hours at it. They did not recite it where anyone from outside could hear them. God no doubt accepted their good intention and laborious effort; for they can have said very little sense.

When Father Fray Antonio of Jesus began to have dealings with them, he made them recite only the Office of our Lady.

They had an oven in which they baked their bread: and they did everything in as orderly a way as if they had had someone over them. It made me give praise to our Lord: and the more I saw of them, the more glad I was to have come. I feel that I would not have failed to satisfy the desire of such souls, whatever troubles I might have had to endure. Those of my companions who remained there told me that just the first few days they felt some repugnance, but when they got to know them and realized their goodness, they felt great affection for them and were delighted to be remaining with them. Saintliness and goodness accomplish much. It is true that our Sisters were of such a sort that, even if they had met with many difficulties and troubles, they would have borne it well, by the Lord's grace, because they desire to suffer in His service. And any Sister who should not feel in herself this desire, let her not reckon herself a true Barefoot; seeing that our desires are not to be for repose but for suffering, that we may in some wise follow our true Spouse. May it please His Majesty to give us the grace for it! Amen.

This hermitage of St Anne had its origin as follows. There was living in the town of Villanueva de la Jara an ecclesiastic named Diego de Guadalajara, a native of Zamora, who had been a Carmelite Brother. He had a devotion to the glorious St Anne; so he built this hermitage adjoining his own house, and kept it up for hearing mass in: and, moved by his great devotion, he went to Rome and brought back a Bull with many indulgences for this chapel or hermitage. He was a virtuous and unworldly man. When he died, he directed in his will that the house and all he possessed should be for a convent of Carmelite nuns; and that, if this could not be carried into effect, there should be a chaplain to say so many masses a week; and that if and whenever a convent was established, the obligation of saying mass should cease. So it went on more than twenty years, with a chaplain who let the property fall into decay. For though those girls went to live in the house, they had only the house. The chaplain lived in another house belonging to the same chapelry, which he now will give up with the rest, and very little that is: but the mercy of God is so great that He cannot fail to shew favour to the house of the glorious mother of His Mother. May it please His Majesty that He may be always served therein, and may all creatures praise Him for ever and ever! Amen.

Footnotes

1. The following forms as it were a second part of the book written after the interruption mentioned in the text. ↩

2. Monsenor Nicolas Ormaneto, one of the most zealous Bishops of the 16th century. He spent some time in England with Cardinal Pole, and was afterwards present at the Council of Trent. St Charles Borromeo made him his Vicar- General, and he afterwards became Bishop of Padua. He came to Spain as Nuncio in 1572. He died in June 1577, in such poverty, through his abundant almsgiving, that Philip II had to defray his funeral expenses. ↩

3. Monsenor Filipo Sega. He had been in Belgium with Don John of Austria, and thence came to Spain. Before he left Italy for Belgium, the Italian [unreformed] Carmelites ingratiated themselves with him through his relation, Cardinal Boncompagni, a patron of theirs, nephew of Pope Gregory XIII. Thence the prejudice of the Nuncio against St Theresa and her reform. ↩

4. He was appointed by St Pius V, at the request of Philip II, who was not altogether satisfied with the work of Father Bossi. Father Fernandez made his visitation on foot, with a companion. While he was at Pastrana he lived like the Barefoot friars, following all their Rule. No wonder therefore that St Theresa put such confidence in him. ↩

5. [Devotes; women who lived at home but spent their time at church and among the poor. Tr.] ↩

6. At that time a reform of Missals and Breviaries was taking place, conformably with the decisions of the Council of Trent; and the clergy had to do away with their old Breviaries of any diocesan Use. St Theresa calls them " old Roman " because they were of the Roman or secular type, not of the monastic type, and were unreformed. ↩