Our Lady of the Snows

Today is a rather unique feast day in honour of our Lady - Our Lady of the Snows. It is an odd title, and it is even odder to be celebrating such a feast day during the high summer days of August. There is a very good reason for it, though, for it commemorates a miraculous fall of snow, which marked the location upon which Santa Maria Maggiore, one of the principle churches in Rome, was to be built. The legend of our Lady of the Snows runs like this: In the 4th century, during the reign of Pope Liberius, a holy man named John and his wife, being childless, made a vow to leave their earthly possessions to our Lady, and prayed that she would inspire them how best to dispose of their wealth in her honour. In answer to their prayer, she appeared to the holy couple, in a dream, and to the Holy Father as well, requesting that they build a church in her name upon the Esquiline Hill, and that she would give them a sign to show where the exact location was to be. The following morning, they all went in procession to the Esquiline Hill, to discover that a heavy snow had fallen during the night, to mark the location of Our Lady's church.

The Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore is one of the oldest churches in the world to be dedicated to our Lady. It contains two very special relics, relating to her motherhood: a very ancient painting of the Madonna and Child, which is attributed to St. Luke; and the Crib of our Lord. It is the possession of that Crib that gives the Basilica its secondary title of Santa Maria del Presepe - St. Mary of the Crib.

On the feast of Our Lady of the Snows each year, a shower of white rose petals are dropped from the roof during Mass, to commemorate the miraculous snow that marked the church's foundation. Here is a clip of it:

Battle of the Boyne

On this day, in 1690, I am sorry to report, the forces of William of Orange defeated the forces of King James II of Ireland and VII of Scotland, at the Battle of the Boyne in Ireland. It severe blow to the Catholics in the countries of Ireland, Scotland, England and Wales; and to the young Jacobite movement, that had grown up with King James. Usually, about this time each year, it will be in the news that sectarian violence is breaking out in Northern Ireland.... again, and there will be some rueful remarks about the Irish Catholics and Protestants being unable to get along. Most of the violence is a result of Orange Parades, i.e. parades of Protestant Orangemen marching along through Catholic neighborhoods, celebrating the victory of William at the Battle of the Boyne. The Catholics, not unreasonably, find this incredibly offensive, and the Irish being the Irish, rioting ensues until the marching season is safely over.

Being both a Catholic, and a Jacobite sympathiser, I am posting the following clip, from the Clancy Brother's Carnegie Hall performance, just so there is not doubt whatsoever what my opinion of the matter is!

Happy Independence Day!

"Yankee Doodle" is probably the most well known of all tunes to come out of the Revolutionary War. It was originally a British song, mocking the Continentals, but it had a catchy melody, and was quickly taken over by the Americans as a rallying tune. Here is a video of the Towpath Fife and Drum Corps performing "Yankee Doodle" on parade.

I also came across this clip of "Yankee Doodle" sung by folksinger Charlie Zahm, which I thought was rather good as well. It is, perhaps, not entirely historically accurate, what with the bodhran and all, but it makes for a stirring arrangement.

The Sign of the Cross

I remember someone telling me when I was quite young, that the Sign of the Cross is the perfect expression of all the major truths of the Catholic Faith. At the time, this remark did not make a very great impression on me. I took it at face value, and accepted it, but then, I merely filed it away in my mind without actually thinking about it. Lately, though, I find that I am thinking about it quite a lot. It began, primarily, as a way of recalling myself to my prayers, when I noticed that my mind had wandered off, as it tends to do at the slightest opportunity. However, the more often I practice thinking about what exactly I am doing when I make the Sign of the Cross, the more I appreciate the powerful expression of faith it is.

For it really does express the major truths of the Faith. When I sign myself "In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost" I am expressing my belief in the Blessed Trinity. By using the singular noun 'name' rather than the plural 'names' I am proclaiming by unity of the Three Persons. By making the cross as I say the prayer, I am also directly showing my belief in the Incarnation of the Son of God, and in His death upon the cross; indirectly, my belief in Original Sin, the Immaculate Conception of Our Lady, and that the death of Our Lord was the cause of our redemption. I am admitting my own sinful weakness, and that, by the cross, I am now under the mercy of God, and therefore, it is an act of trust. Furthermore, I am symbolically taking the cross upon myself, and am therefore, acknowledging must follow in the footsteps of God Himself, and bear my sufferings as He did, so it is an act of immolation.

If I make the Sign of the Cross, and pray instead, "Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end" I am now expressing my belief in the omnipotence of God, in the reality of Heaven, in eternity. In addition, I am offering to God a simple act of adoration, placing myself, for that little moment, before His throne and adding my own voice to the unceasing praise of the angels and saints.

When I make the Sign of the Cross, I am also blessing myself, a truly remarkable thing, if you think about it. The Sign of the Cross is universally understood to be a sign of blessing. The priest makes the sign over the host, to bless it for the Consecration, over sacramentals, to bless them for our use, over his congregation, to call blessings down upon us. Traditionally, Catholic parents would bless their children by making the Sign of the Cross upon their foreheads with holy water. But when I make that simple movement over my own person, I am able bless myself as well. I am able to beg blessings on my own behalf, and that is a powerful act indeed. No wonder it is recommended that we use the Sign of the Cross in times of temptation.

It Is A Sign, I Tell You....

.... I am not quite sure what it is a sign of, but it is definately a sign. The bouquet of white roses I bought to celebrate White Rose Day are still blooming. I do not remember the last time I had cut flowers last so long as this. Oh, I will grant you that over the last couple days they have gotten wee bit past their prime, but only the least, tiny bit. They are still remarkably fine looking. Three weeks.... not bad at all.... It bears repeating: It is a sign, I tell you!

Here's Tae the King, Sir....

Today is White Rose Day, a holiday I had never heard of before yesterday. I owe the discovery of its existence to a small, pencilled notation in an antique Lives of the Saints, that I recently acquired in Scotland, and have been using daily as part of morning prayers. Beside the names of various saints for June 10th - St. Landry, St. Maurinus, St. Gertulius & Co. and, most fittingly, St. Margaret of Scotland - is the neat little addition: White Rose Day. I was intrigued, and the moment I had finished my prayers, I rushed to my handy computer to look it up.

To my delight, I discovered that it a Jacobite holiday. It commemorates the birth of James Francis Edward Stewart, born on this day in 1688. He was the legitimate, staunchly Catholic heir the throne of England, Ireland and Scotland and his birth is generally regarded as the beginning of the Jacobite cause. His father, James II and VII, had converted to Catholicism, and as a result had been forced to abdicate in favour of his Protestant daughter, Mary, and her Dutch husband, William of Orange. It was not an ideal situation, so when James II and VII died, his son was offered the throne by the bitterly Protestant leaders of the country, on condition that he renounce his Faith, but he responded, "Nothing would induce me to abandon my religion, for it is the true one." He did, however, insist upon his right to the kingship, and his supporters raised an army to help him secure it. James in Latin is Jacobus, so his supporters were knows as Jacobites.

They put up a tremendous fight, the Jacobites! Two major uprising they had, one in 1715, led by James himself, and the better known one, in 1746, led by Bonnie Prince Charlie. In between, there were all sorts of intrigues and smaller battles. If a man had a blue cap upon his head, you could be pretty sure that he was a supporter of "the king over the water", that is to say, James Stewart, for he had been forced to flee to France after the Jacobites were put down in 1715. Ladies wore white roses to show their own support. People met in secret to plan for the next move in the battle for their rightful king. The Jacobite cause was finally crushed once and for all, on April 16th, at Culloden in Scotland. Bonnie Prince Charlie and his gallant Scots were defeated, more by treachery and bad judgement, than by any force of arms.

However, the Jacobite tradition carried on. Those who were loyal to the Stewarts continued to drink toasts to the King over the Water, still continued to hope for the restoration of the true kings to the throne. Gradually, a whole, rich tradition of Jacobite songs, poetry and toasts grew up. They continued to wear the white rose - or the white cockade - which had long been the symbol of the Stewarts. And one of their traditions, was the celebration White Rose Day.

So, in commemoration of the day, of the Stewarts, and their Catholic faith, and of their brave supporters the Jacobites, here is a poem, written by Andrew Lang:


WHITE ROSE DAY--JUNE 10, 1688

'Twas a day of faith and flowers,
Of honour that could not die,
Of Hope that counted the hours,
Of sorrowing Loyalty:
And the Blackbird sang in the closes,
The Blackbird piped in the spring,
For the day of the dawn of the Roses,
The dawn of the day of the King!

White roses over the heather,
And down by the Lowland lea,
And far in the faint blue weather,
A white sail guessed on the sea!
But the deep night gathers and closes,
Shall ever a morning bring
The lord of the leal white roses,
The face of the rightful King?


Incidentally, since I like to fancy myself a bit of a Jacobite, I intend to celebrate today by wearing a tartan skirt (luckily made of light-weight fabric, since spring has come upon us) pinning a white rose into my hair, (artificial - a concession to practicality) putting white roses on my table (real ones, of course) and cooking salmon, neeps and tatties for dinner (It being Friday, salmon is as Scottish as it gets). I also intend to have a bit of Scotch whisky, with which I shall offer the standard toast, "Here's tae the King, sir. Ye ken wha I mean, sir. And every honest man wha will dae it again!" and pass my whisky glass over my water glass, lest there be any doubt that I mean the King over the Water.

June 5, 1944

Today is the anniversary of the Liberation of Rome by the Allied Troops. Here is a video of Pope Pius XII addressing the troops:

Incidentally, Rome during the War was an exciting place. All sorts of things were going on under the noses of the Germans. The tomb of St. Peter was discovered, for example. It had to be kept a secret, since the Nazis had a very odd fascination for religious artifacts (the Holy Grail, the spear of St. Longinus, etc) so the Vatican Gardens were completely remodeled, so that the volume of dirt being dug out from underneath St. Peter's Basilica could be disposed of without comment. Pope Pius XII and Monsignor O'Flaherty were hiding Jews everywhere: in the Vatican, in the Catacombs, with various families throughout the city. British soldier, Sam Derry, with the help of the good Monsignor, had created the Rome Escape Line which hid Allied soldiers who had been cut off from the Allied troops during the Italian Campaign, and helped them to return to their units. Someday, I would like to write a neat little history book that focused just on Rome during the war. It would make from some fascinating reading!