#50.10, Weds., Nov. 22, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         Greg is thinking through his assignment to be the Brother Ezra at the church. “When I pop up through the trap door into the basilica, what if someone sees me?”

         I answer, “You’ll know what to do. You have a good mind for this. You don’t have to keep it a secret that Brother Ezra found the tunnel. Tell it to anyone who sees you and wonders why a monk is coming up through the floor. Most likely it will be the Bishop who asks. He expects to find Brother Ezra waiting in the church. Tell him you noticed the door under the rug table and you went exploring and found the tunnel to the same place you had just been waiting, so you came back to wait at the church. No one will wonder why you were waiting around in the basilica. Let’s just trust Gaillard’s plan.”

         Suddenly I feel like my perfectly adult sons are following me like newly hatched goslings only capable of imitating the gander.

         “Like Gaillard said. ‘The most important thing is that we not be seen together. Any one Brother Ezra alone won’t stir curiosity’.”

         “What if the Brother Ezra-Gabe is already meeting with the Father, and there I am at the church, waiting for the guard to take me over to his cell?”

         “Just don’t let the bishop call for the guard. Instead, ask to speak with him, and you might also learn what we really need to know. What is this bishop’s opinion of the Father’s work at Luxeuil? Will he be defending the Father, or is he one of the noble Frankish bishops hoping to see him gone?” [Footnote]

         “Of course. That’s why I have the sword, isn’t it?”

         “Don’t use the sword. If you find him foe, detain him with your chatter. If he is a follower of Father Columbanus, ask him to pray with you for the release of the Father.

         “Our prayer now, dear God, let us be your hands and feet in this work of freeing the prisoners. Amen.” So, I tell them one more time, “just don’t use the sword.”

         The stench of the prisoners is thick in the tunnel now.  We are reaching the end, or the beginning, depending. We extinguish the torches, and peer through the wood slats to visualize our plans, each of us to our own purpose.

[Footnote] “St. Rothadius, Archbishop of Besançon in 611, from Luxeuil” is a questionable entry to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_Catholic_Archdiocese_of_ Besançon . Searching books in English and the internet, this blogger was not able to find at what point Luxeuil provided bishops for this see.

(Continues tomorrow)

#50.9, Tues., Nov. 21, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         “So we might be releasing dangerous men into Besançon?” asks Gabe.

         I answer, “As far as I know, people usually end up in chains due to poverty; often the crime is theft or unpaid debt. So maybe these prisoners are just poor people.” [Footnote]

         “Or maybe they are demoniacs.” suggests Gabe.

         Greg dismisses this worry, “The reason why they are prisoners isn’t our concern. Our mission is to free the Father. Gaillard told us logistically, if the chains are broken the prisoners can become a distraction and possibly helpful.

         So, we light torches and go back into the tunnel – three matching Celtic monks, all named Brother Ezra. Gaillard will wait for us with the wagon at the campsite in the wood ready to take the Father to safety even if we aren’t being pursued. May no one draw a sword.

         It is much easier passing through a tunnel with other people and lit torches.

         Now Gabe mentions he isn’t comfortable cutting prisoners free.

         “They could be demoniacs. And without Jesus around to drive out the demons, it might be best to keep them in chains.”

         “Is that what they do with demoniacs at Luxeuil?”  

         “We’ve never dealt with it that I know of” Gabe answers. “The most important thing in any kind of healing is to preserve the soul of the person. So I would suppose we would be more helpful offering prayer than cutting chains.”

         “Well, Gabe,” I answer, “as one who was assigned forever to be a physical metaphor for spiritual life, I don’t appreciate the simplicity of separating the soul from the physical body then only offering prayer. But I hear your concern.  Maybe I should be the one to release the prisoners and you go pray with the Father.”

         “Oh, thank you Papa. I’m so much better at prayers than I would be cutting wild prisoners loose.” He’s relieved and gladly passes the tool for opening chain-links onto me.  So, we’ve made a little revision in Gaillard’s plan.

         Now we come to that place with a space in the wall of the cave, and with a torch I can see this is just a dead end or a boarded up side tunnel. I’m glad I didn’t waste time exploring it in the dark.

         First it was Gabe, now Greg has concerns about his assignment too.

[Footnote] Geltner, G., The Medieval Prison: A Social History Princeton University Press, 2008 provides a resource confirming the significance of poverty as a cause for imprisonment in the Merovingean era.

(Continues tomorrow)

#50.8, Thurs., Nov. 16, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         It is the full light of day when I come up into the meadow.

         “Papa! You found the tunnel!  We’ve been waiting for you over in the trees there by the fire.”

         Greg and Gaillard are tending a campfire, waiting with the mule and wagon.

         I tell them all what I‘ve learned about the tunnels and the guards, the cage and the ladders, the basilica of the archbishop and the state of the other prisoners. I haven’t yet met with the Father to tell him our plan.

         Gaillard wants to hone the plan with these new details. He has so many questions, mostly about things I hadn’t realized were significant.

         “Does the cage door have a chain with a lock, or a keylock in the door? How many keys does the guard carry? Is there rust? What of the other prisoners — the ones in chains? Are those in need of rescue too?” Gaillard takes careful notes.

         “Yes. Everything is rusty and yet it is also sooty and greasy.”  Did I need to mention the stench?

         Gaillard is revising our plan to send all three of us as monks back in through the tunnel together, then we will split up when we are in the space under the cell, and Greg will go to the church via the tunnel, I will go up to the guard, and have him take me down one ladder and up  to the cage, and Gabe will stay hidden under the cell until the guard has come down and gone back up the other ladder to his post again on the main floor. Then Gabe can proceed to cut the chains of the other prisoners, as we had planned.

         Gabe asks me, “Why are they in chains?”

         That’s another answer I don’t have, “I don’t know. I didn’t ask their crimes.”

         “What danger are they if they are released?”

         “I don’t know. But clearly their own lives are endangered where they are. I would suppose the Father would want us to follow the pattern told of the freeing of the prisoners in the bible stories in Acts. And apparently, when God sends angels or an earthquake and releases a holy man, all of the prisoners are also set free.”

         “Does any of that make any sense to you?” Gaillard asks.

         “Do you mean as strategy, or as justice? It seems very reasonable as God’s justice, and when the bible stories guide us, chains are shattered by God regardless of human fears and sins.”

(Continues Tuesday, Nov. 21, 2023)?,

#50.7, Weds., Nov. 15, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         Now I’m groping my way through the tunnel. The darknesses I prefer, like the dark of night, always seem to glow from something – the moon, the stars, the first rays of sun — but this dark is the nearly a suffocating intensity of death’s dark, even without the weight of earth on me. It is nothingness. I could be walking on the ceiling here for all I know. And I wonder if bats are on this ceiling?  I don’t really feel alone here – maybe it’s bats. Maybe it’s spirit. It is a silent presence. 

         My fingers walk the damp wall ahead of my steps, since I choose not to commit a full-handed touch to feel my way along.  May I reach the end of this while the sun still shines.

         Now my fingers touch a dark ending to this wall. Is it another tunnel, or just a random corner?

         It’s a juncture in the tunnel. Maybe it is two tunnels that meet and one will lead to the place beyond the walls where the others wait. I’ve lost my sense of direction. This seems to be a smaller path off in another direction. Exploring these edges, I find no arch or supporting beam, at least nothing that can be found with touch. So, I choose only to follow the wider tunnel forward.

         The darkness goes on, for how long? I’m moving so slowly I have no idea of distance. And I fear I’m losing my belief in light. Is light simply a belief shared by those who see? What is light that darkness isn’t? Maybe it is an idea, or a hope, or something imagined. It is a mystical reality. As one who has seen it, I know that it exists at least for those who see.

         But now there is a shadow, a shine on the wall ahead. And now the full light of day is an oddly shaped exit overhead with the fresh scent of air pouring in. All around, under this opening are burnt branches once use as torches. Did the young soldiers not need torches to return back through the tunnel? Or are they still at the alehouse? Maybe they came alone, and went back in groups. I would leave my torch here, had I a torch. Here is a stone for a step to make an easy climb out through the hole.

 (Continues tomorrow)

#50.6, Tues., Nov. 14, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress  

Here are some stones laid as steps down into the darkness. I let the door down above me in the basilica, with the rug staying nearly in place, and I descend into the darkness seeing only as far as the puddle of candlelight.

         The smell of oily smoke mingled in the stench of unkempt prisoners tells me more of the end to this tunnel than does my own candle. This is not the tunnel to the outside as I had hoped. I find I am now in that little make-shift space under the Father’s cell, where old stone supports were reinforced with an arch to strengthen the rotting Roman floors under the cage currently elevated from the dungeon onto the main level.  

         Just now the bishop is coming down the ladder and as the guard locks the cell behind the bishop he is telling him a monk is waiting in the church to see the Father next. But I can guess he won’t find this monk there.

         Here I am just where I first waited by the ladders on the dungeon level, under the cage. I’m avoiding the guard and the bishop just now, as I don’t want to alert anyone’s curiosity. I extinguish the candle so no one will notice me here in the shadows – here at the end of the church tunnel holding a candle with a still smoking wick. The guard is following the bishop down the ladder from the cell, so I slip back behind the wood laid against the back wall of this space under the cage.

         Oh, this isn’t a wall! These boards are hiding an opening into another tunnel. Of course! This is the tunnel I intended to find! I have no flame now and barely a leak of light seeping through the boards.  But surely this must be the way those young soldiers go when they make their clandestine pilgrimage to the alehouse. The wall sconce holds no torch but there are rags and tallow aplenty here, if I only had a flame. I feel my way through the darkness of this tunnel hopefully, to end up beyond the wall where I will find the others are waiting. Of course, it could be a maze of tunnels. But how can I know without risking that search? Dear God, stay close.

(Continues tomorrow)

#50.5, Thurs., Nov. 9, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

I’m waiting on the lower level of the prison area, between the two ladders in this ancient place near prisoners in deplorable conditions. I hear the preaching voice of the Bishop above so I know he and the Father are only beginning the prayers and I will have the time it takes for a bishop’s pastoral prayer to figure out where the exit under the outer wall might be. I’m guessing that opening to a tunnel must be in the church.

         Dressed as I am, as a monk, it won’t be suspicious for me to prefer to wait in the church.  I go back up and let the guard know I will be in the church and will return when the Bishop comes back to the church. The stench below would drive any free man to find an excuse to wait elsewhere. The guard tells me that when the Bishop is not at the basilica the doors are locked so he will have to go along with me and unlock the church for me. He has two keys on the large metal ring. I can assume the other key opens the Father’s cell. As the guard leaves me alone in the church; he says he will tell the Bishop I am waiting there.

         This basilica is a massive open space, a holy wilderness of nothing. There is an apse and an altar at the farthest end. Mostly, it is a gaping space for armies of worshippers to stand for the Gospels and the mass. But on the north wall, behind the columns is a small table on a little square of a weave of a rug. On the table are candles and one is lit. Of course, this must be the entrance to the tunnel, unless the secret opening would be in the vestry. But I can imagine the opening wouldn’t be in a place where young soldiers aren’t allowed to go. So most likely it is here and not hidden in the vestry. And here are the candles that would be needed for lighting tallow torches. I search under the candle table. Yes, here it is. The little rug hardly is large enough to cover the door in the floor. So I light a candle to take along with me, as I lift the rug and the hidden door under it together.

(Continues Tuesday, Nov. 14, 2023)

#50.4, Weds., Nov. 8, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

My assigned part in Gaillard’s plan is simply to learn the layout of this prison and inform the Father. The plan was designed knowing this was an old Roman construction and we imagined the Father imprisoned more as described in the Acts account of Paul and Silas, chained in manacles. [Acts 16:16-40]. As mere mortals, without the power of earthquakes or angels to break the chains, we’ve brought a tool for that.

         The prison guard is posted on the main level by the descending ladder. He sent me down here to the lower level to wait, because the Bishop of Besançon is praying with the Father at this time. When the Bishop says the ‘amens’ and calls the guard to open the cell, he will come down the first ladder, and I can follow him up the other ladder to the cell so I can go in to visit with the Father.

         With the guard on the main level he can see the cage and the far wall of this dungeon where other prisoners are chained, as Paul was in the biblical account. But the guard can’t see me from his post, waiting here unless I stand near the prisoner’s wall.  There is a stench here, of human filth mixed with the suffocating oily smoke of tallow burning.

         These five in chains are a very dour lot. But since I’m waiting here as a monk I offer them prayers. One answers for them all with a groaning sound that clearly means ‘no prayers.’

         “Okay then, only my own needs shall be elevated in prayer.” And I pray aloud, “Dear God, may my moment waiting here give me a new understanding. Amen.”

         Now I ask if they have no one guarding them down here.

         The one who groans for the lot of them answers, “What do we need with a guard?  We have chains.”

         “Of course, I see that. But does a guard come and release you once in a while? Do they bring you food here?”

         “Why?”

         “Even the Celtic Rule allows a break from fasting. Are you given no food?”

         There is no answer, even from the grunting fellow. And it is obvious from the stench that they aren’t released for their personal needs. No wonder the guard waits above on the main level. And I’m glad to find the Father is not chained in this predicament also.

(Continues tomorrow)

#50.3, Tues., Nov. 7, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

One of the guards stationed at the bridge gate of Besançon is guiding me through this walled city to the place where prisoners are chained.

         Inside, besides the church of the archdiocese, is also an old Roman amphitheater made of quarried stone which still remains. The wood floors have long since rotted away, which were once the ceiling of the dungeon area where maybe gladiators waited and lions were caged. So, with the floors gone that now, dungeon area is exposed to the main level. Only some of the old Roman things are disintegrating from rot. We still have these guardsmen and young soldiers in training coming to this main arena where gladiators once made sport of death. Here they practice lining up and moving in unison as one body, where order is the order.

         Today the unison they practice is drawing wooden sword facsimiles. In this more advanced age, the Seventh century, C.E., maybe humanity has finally outgrown the lust of audience applauding the spectacle of violence as entertainment.

And here the practice swords are made of wood.  I suppose Greg and Galliard will be at an advantage with their smelted swords if weapons would be needed. Of course, all the weapons I see here are not made of wood. The fortress guards have actual spears – polearms — with sharpened metal tips. And I still have bad memories of these things.

         The guard leads me across the practice area to the northeast wall of the amphitheater where we enter a dark hallway that would have been the place for the gates and cages used in the spectator sport. A cage, probably for a lion, is here on the main level and I can see that two men are inside this cage – one a bishop and the other is Father Columbanus.

         With the rotting of the floors, this cage is now supported from below on old arches, and a makeshift structure of beams setting it high up on the main level above the earthen dungeon area. But to get to the cage we must first descend one ladder to the earthen level, then, use a second ladder placed from the dungeon level up to the door of the cage where the Father is captive. Now on this lower level I see the wall is set with chains and manacles and here are five prisoners chained to binding stones.

         This is how we expected to find the Father. We didn’t plan on finding a main floor cage with a lock.

(Continues tomorrow)

#50.2, Thurs., Nov. 2, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Fortress Besançon

I’m following the first instruction in Gaillard’s intricate escape plan for Father Columbanus. I introduce myself to the guards at the gate as “Brother Ezra, here to pray with Father Columbanus.” They are expecting me because the father called for “Ezra” as they were taking him away.

         Gaillard’s plan calls for me to meet with the Father and let him know of our plan, then to scout out the inside opening to the tunnel under the distant wall. We need to find the way out of the fortress to the rock heap in the pasture at the far tunnel entrance.

         Gaillard explained it all. He will be the century waiting at that place in the pasture with the wagon and he will also have a sword, may it not be needed. The other two, Greg and Gabe are also monks who go inside the fortress.  In fact, we are all three, the same monk named Brother Ezra.

Gailliard stressed, “Three Brother Ezra’s isn’t confusing, as long as we never let ourselves be seen together. It will allow Brother Ezra to be three places at once: one who comes with prayer, another the tool for breaking chains, and the third, a sword.”

         So, my task, once inside the walls, after prayer with the Father and informing him of the plan is to locate the inside entrance to the tunnel. Gabe will go back in with the chain cutter and cut all the prisoners free. Greg will follow, with the sword. Then Gaillard may decide to send me back through the tunnel and help create the confusion with three identical Ezras, while the Ezra with a sword will guide the Father safely to the wagon. We will all meet at the safe farm, then go on to Luxeuil.

         Now, inside these old Roman walls I can see that this is an old city. Here is the church butted up against the east side of the wall which is the wall not protected by the river. In Tours the church is built right into the wall. It was an ancient pattern. And I suppose it is the logical place for a secret door to a tunnel.

         Besançon is the see of an archbishop. So here we have both the guardsmen of the nobility to contend with, and also one of those ever-pesky Frankish bishops with his own guards, and of course, lots of young soldiers in training, each longing to become legend.

(Continues Tuesday, Nov. 7, 2023)

#50.1, Weds., Nov. 1, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         We’re starting the plan to go into the dungeon to set free Father Columbanus and other prisoners. We assume the soldiers at the north gate expect a “Brother Ezra” to arrive as the Father called for at his capture.

 In time, this story of rescue may be attributed to a legend with a saint’s name.[Footnote] Maybe that’s how tradition gives history students fewer names to remember. Of course, God knows all people and notices each sparrow and every other little breathing bit of creation. So none of these details of fact are lost to God.

Plodding on alone toward the fortress, I’m pondering. Maybe rote legend is why so many kings had the same baptism story, and why only apostles write gospels. Except maybe not so much the gospel writer of Luke, who also wrote Acts and was said to be a follower of Paul who did claim apostleship though he wasn’t a disciple. And that accounts for my own thoughts of Jesus becoming skewed by popular opinion in Luke’s tales. I still blame Luke for starting the rumor that my sister was a prostitute. But I digress.  

         So maybe Matthew, Mark and John are really just names that were attributed to the works honoring those apostles. They were named after named apostles, in the same way Ana and I named Gabriel after the angel and Gregory after some Gregory. I know John was named for John the Baptist. And a mysterious secret I have no proof of is that the ‘beloved disciple’ who claimed the authorship of John was an enamored teenager and follower of John the Baptist.*

         Now, here I am approaching those foreboding walls of Besançon. This fortress is in the center of an oxbow on the river Daub. The hills rise into the mountains to the east and I’m walking the path toward the wrinkle in the river that serves as a moat on three sides of the fortress. Over on the south-east, the land-side, is a slope of pasture land where we plan to deliver the Father to the wagon we brought for the escape.

         “Are you Brother Ezra, follower of Father Columbanus?”

         The guards glance passed me for the army I don’t have, and now seem pleased to see only me, alone, and not those thousand armed and vengeful men. But maybe they assume there is only one Brother Ezra.

         I answer, “I’ve come to pray with your prisoner, Father Columbanus.”


[Footnote] Jonas, the best-known hagiographer of Father Columbanus, wrote nearly a century after Columbanus lived, and Jonas tells this story of the prison break at Besançon. (Munro, Dana, ed., Translations and Reprints from…Life of St. Columban Sections 34 with ref. to 16) Jonas names the helper in the escape as the “little boy, Domocalis” who also served Columbanus in his wilderness quietudes. This blogger of fiction uses different characters for this rescue, and replaced that child named with Brother Servant in most other places in this blog, because our modern perspective takes issue with a priest using a child as a personal servant. Maybe we are better people in these times, or maybe we simply hide different sins?

*It’s only a theory, picked up and used in this fiction. At this time it doesn’t reflect credible scholarship, but maybe someday more definitive information will be available about some of the parts of John.

(Continues tomorrow)