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Legend of Evesham; Legend of St. Betteline; The San Grail · Legends of the Saints

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  Section seventeen of Legends of the Saints by Mary Seymour. This LibriVox recording is
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  in the public domain. Read by Marie Christian. Legend of Evesham. Far
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  back in the early ages of the Church in England, there was a desert
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  place, all grown over with thorns and briars, which was used as a
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  pasture for the swine. Belonging to the monastery of Egwin, the third Bishop
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  of Worcester. Four men were employed here every day, one of whom happened
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  to leave his companions and go farther into the thicket than he had ever done
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  before, and to his great amazement, he there beheld a lady standing on
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  a particular spot of ground, with two maidens of wondrous beauty by her side.
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  Around the three there appeared a shining light far brighter than the sun,
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  and they were singing sweet melodies from an open book which the lady held in
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  her hand. The rough, ignorant man was dazzled by the splendor of the
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  sight, and went back to the bishop, trembling with fear to tell what
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  he had beheld. After prayer and fasting, Egwin was directed by God to
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  proceed to the thicket himself, and taking with him three of the monks,
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  they went towards the valley, barefoot and singing psalms and holy hymns. When
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  they reached the spot to which the poor Swineherd had directed them, the bishop
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  left his companions and went alone into the thicket, where, prostrate on the
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  ground, he implored God's mercy, And upon rising he beheld the three beautiful
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  virgins, exactly as they had been described to him. She who stood between
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  the others, was of a surpassing loveliness, and a sweet fragrance seemed to
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  hover about her, which caused Egwin to believe that she could be no other
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  than the blessed Mother of Christ. As the thought filled his heart, she
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  blessed him with a golden cross, which she had held in her hand,
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  and then the vision disappeared, leaving the good bishop full of peace and consolation.
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  Before this time he had made a vow to build some church as a
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  thanksgiving, if it should please Almighty God to deliver him from the many trials
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  and persecutions he had been suffering. And therefore he understood that the divine will
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  was that he should erect a temple in this place, and dedicate it to
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  Mary, whose appearance had brought so much joy and comfort to his soul.
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  A spot was cleared and the pious work immediately commenced, and in later days
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  Evesham became a favorite place of pilgrimage for faithful Christians, who kneeling there obtained
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  many graces and gifts through the intercession of the ever blessed Mother of God and
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  of Legend of Evesham, Legend of Saint Betheline. The holy hermit Saint Betheline
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  is sad and troubled, and he kneels long in to Christ and the Blessed
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  Virgin for help. For by the morrow's sunset he is to leave his quiet
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  solitude upon that green islet, for which he had cast away a crown,
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  that he might watch and pray under the shadow of the cross. It is
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  the king who grudges the hermit his cell. The saint has chosen a fair
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  spot, said he, I warrant me. He sleeps well to the murmuring
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  music of the river, and the turf is too soft, the scene too
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  graceful for a hermit. I swear that it shall now be mine. Then
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  Saint Bedeline was commanded to prove his right to the ground, and unless some
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  champion could be found to fight for him in the open field, he must
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  on the morrow quit the solitude he loved. Is there one who will don
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  his armor and draw his sword for Christ? The saint knows of none such
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  knight, and yet his faith is strong. And thus he prays, Lord,
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  if only thou abide with me, I will not grieve to leave this
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  quiet spot. Barren cliff or flowery meadow are as one to me, so
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  that I possess THEE, who art all I need before Thy Glory's sake.
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  Abide and cast down the strength and fury which opposed thee. As Saint Bedeline
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  rose from his knees, a sweet calmness filled his soul, and it seemed
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  as if a divine voice whispered in his ear. Thy prayer is heard,
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  fear not, and then he felt neither sorrow nor care, but looked out
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  with a quiet heart upon the peaceful flowing river. Softly, the breeze swayed
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  the willow branches and bent the fragile heads of the wood anemones. But above
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  it rose the sound of a horse's feet approaching, and a man rode up
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  to the narrow door, a stranger to Saint Bedeline, so slight, so
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  small, that the armor which he wore seemed all too large for him.
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  Hermit, I come in the name of the Blessed Trinity to fight for THEE,
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  he said, and Bedeline courteously bent his head, murmuring, God speed
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  THEE. But in him is all my trust. Together they went to the
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  field, where the king was already seated in pomp and state, with his
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  courtiers round him, and a merry shout they raised the hermit hath brought a
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  stout champion forsooth. Then the clang of a trumpet echoed through the forest,
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  and a giant form came hurriedly onward, seated upon a steed as black as
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  storm, and he looked at the slight form of his opponents, scornfully,
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  laughing hoarsely, as he wheeled his noble courser round to begin thee affray.
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  The small, frail warrior does not move. Head, heel, hand are
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  all still, and his banner only flutters in the wind, displaying upon its
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  folds the wrought image of a spotless lamb and the Holy Cross. But what
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  ails the giant soldier. The spear shakes in his hand. His steed is
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  checked for its rider, reels and falls to the earth, uttering an awful
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  cry of agony. He had quailed before the glance of that angelic face,
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  and the fair slight form had vanished too, as the awe struck whisper passed
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  around. It is Saint Michael who has fought the hermit's battle and proved his
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  right to the Holy Isle. It is Saint Michael who has vanquished the fiend
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  with his spear. End of Legend of Saint Bedeline, Legend of the Sand
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  Grail. The sand Grail or Holy Cup from which our Blessed Lord drank at
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  his last supper, had disappeared from the sight of Christians. No more were
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  pilgrims to the altar where it had been kept, rewarded by gazing upon what
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  they longed to see. The sacred relic had mysteriously vanished, and none knew
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  where. Many a knight searched for the sand Grail, seeking by prayer in
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  God's grace to keep heart and conscience free from stain of sin. For well
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  was it known that none might find the Holy Cup, who was not in
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  the friendship in favor of the Almighty. Some passed it by unknowingly. But
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  one Sir Galahad was permitted to discover and to recognize the precious treasure which he
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  had so long prayed to behold. Very early in the morning he would go
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  to visit this holy cup, venerating it in remembrance of his Lord. And
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  one day, on repairing to the spot, he found some one already there,
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  but no earthly visitor was it, for a company of angels surrounded him.
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  Sir Galahad trembled and would perchance have drawn back, But the stranger said,
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  come, thou, servant of the Lord, and thou shalt see what
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  thou hast so long desired to see. Knowest thou who I am? And
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  the Knight answered, nay, I am Joseph of Arimathea, and the Lord
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  hath sent me here to bear thee company. Then Sir Galahad lifted his clasped
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  hands to heaven, saying, Blessed Lord, I thank THEE that thou hast
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  granted me so great a proof of thy favor. If it be thy will
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  to take me from this world, I pray THEE release me, for heavenly
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  joys alone will suffice me. Now, as he said, these words,
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  he knelt down before the Holy Grail, praying fervently to God, and suddenly
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  his soul was carried to Heaven by a vast company of angels, in the
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  sight of all present. Then a hand from heaven took the sacred vessel and
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  bore it away from Earth. And since then human eye hath not looked upon
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  it. End of Legend of the Sand Grail. End of section seventeen