Old Hickory and Our Lady of Prompt Succor

Mosaic of the three times Our Lady of Prompt Succor saved New Orleans. General Jackson
and his men may be seen in the bottom right. I took this photo of the mosaic at the
Ursuline Convent in New Orleans in 2019. 

Andrew Jackson was a study in contrasts. By most accounts, he was hot tempered and had a tendency to violence. In his youth, he engaged in most of the vices common to young men of that time: drinking, carousing, and engaging in every form of gambling known to man. He apparently had a passion for cock-fighting. He got into brawls without number and fought duels, killing at least one man—though admittedly, that man had shot him first, hitting Jackson square in the chest. The bullet lodged too close to his heart to be extracted, and Jackson would carry it inside him for the rest of his life.

Jackson was a slave owner and an Indian fighter. He is perhaps most infamous today for his policy while president of removing tribes from the eastern states to Indian Territory in the present-day state of Oklahoma. This policy's most noteworthy and awful result was the removal of the Cherokee from Georgia along the Trail of Tears. At the same time, Jackson was compassionate, taking in an orphaned Creek boy named Lyncoya after the Battle of Tallushatchee in 1813. He would adopt Lyncoya as his son, and later took in two other Creek orphans, Theodore and Charley.   

If you read about Jackson in any of the earlier biographies, you get a sense that Old Hickory's contemporaries—whether friend or foe—struggled to pigeon-hole the man. Later in his life, Jackson apparently became quite religious, even helping to found Hermitage Presbyterian Church on land donated from his estate in Nashville, Tennessee. Indeed, even in Jackson's dissipated youth, it seemed that there was a latent tendency toward Christian piety to be found buried deep within him. Biographers struggled to reconcile these conflicting tendencies, resulting in awkward passages like this one from Cyrus Townsend Brady:

General Jackson was a thoroughly religious man during the greater part of his life…Now, when I say he was a religious man I do not mean that his religion was at first of the active, personal sort. On the contrary, it was originally intermixed with worldliness to an excessive degree. [The True Andrew Jackson (1906), p. 366]

Writing in 1888, another biographer, James Parton, recorded the following anecdote that exemplifies Jackson’s internal paradox in a concrete way:

After his wife had joined the [Presbyterian] church, the general, in deference to her wishes, was accustomed to ask a blessing before meals. The company had sat down at the table one day, when the general was telling a warlike story with great animation, interlarding the discourse, as was then his custom, with a profusion of expletives most heterodox and profane. In the full tide of this narration, the lady of the house interrupted her lord, “Mr Jackson, will you ask a blessing?” Mr. Jackson stopped short in the midst of one of his most soldier-like sentences, performed the duty required of him, and then instantly resumed his narrative in the same tone and language as before. [Life of Andrew Jackson, Volume 2 (1888), p. 655]

Many of us have known men similar to this. They are often individuals who have lived a harsh early life (Jackson was orphaned at 14) and find it nearly impossible to make that final conversion of heart to Christ, crying out with the young Augustine of Hippo, "Lord make me pure—but not yet!" 

I, for one, think Jackson's religious tendencies were sincere, even if he often consciously chose the course of worldliness and sin. Let's look at an incident during the Battle of New Orleans as an example. 

In January of 1815, at the age of 47, Jackson was placed in command of a rag-tag collection of regular army units, local militia, a squad of gunners from Jean Lafitte's crew of privateers, and even a detachment of Choctaws. Jackson's force numbered about 5,000 all told. 

These men were meant to defend New Orleans against an army of 10,000 British regulars under the command of General Edward Pakenham. Many of these men were veterans of the Napoleonic War in Europe and both officers and men had every expectation that they would brush aside Jackson's disorderly mob with little effort and capture New Orleans. 

Gambler that he was, Jackson must have known that the odds of survival were long, and the odds of victory even longer still. As Pakenham's redcoats advanced, Jackson came face-to-face with that old adage: there are no atheists in foxholes. Some accounts of activities prior to the battle include mention of Jackson visiting Abbe William DuBourg to request public prayers for the success of American arms. 

In New Orleans, that city of contrasts nearly as striking as those affecting Jackson, the 18,000 inhabitants were in a state of near panic. The mood at the Ursuline Convent, however, was markedly different. Writing in The Story of the Battle of New Orleans (1915) Stanley Clisby Arthur offers the following account of what went on among the nuns on that fateful eve of battle:

From the windows of the Convent, the Ursulines could see the smoke rising from the battle-field on the plains of Chalmette. The night of January 7th had been spent in prayer before their Blessed Sacrament. Everything seemed hopeless for the Americans; and Jackson himself had sworn that, should he be vanquished, the enemy would find New Orleans a heap of ruins.

The wooden statue of Our Lady of
Prompt Succor that was placed on the
altar during the Battle of New Orleans 

In order to assist in averting this imminent peril — for all was in consternation on the morning of January 8th — the Chapel was continually thronged with pious ladies and poor negresses, all weeping and praying at the foot of the statue of Our Lady of Prompt Succor, which had been placed on the main altar; and the Community, through the Superioress, Mother Ste Marie (in the world, Marie Francoise Victoire Olivier de Vezin), made a vow to have a solemn Mass of thanksgiving sung every year, should the Americans gain the victory.

That morning, January 8, 1815, Very Reverend William DuBourg, the Vicar Apostolic (afterwards Bishop of New Orleans), offered up the holy sacrifice of the Mass before the statue of Our Lady of Prompt Succor.

At the moment of communion, a courier entered the chapel to announce the glad tidings of the enemy’s defeat.

After Mass, the Abbe DuBourg entoned Te Deum, which was taken up and sung with accents of such lively gratitude that it seemed as though the very vaults of the chapel would open to allow this touching thanksgiving to ascend more freely to the throne of God. [The Battle of New Orleans (1915), p. 239). 

It is said that the battle itself was over within half-an-hour. The badly mauled British were forced to retreat and Jackson's riff-raff were left in possession of the field. Operating from a hastily fortified position, Jackson's troops inflicted over 2,000 casualties on the British. By contrast, the Americans had suffered only 13 killed in action, and 39 wounded. 

The latter group, along with the sick, were lodged in the schoolrooms of the convent and nursed by the gentle hands of the Ursuline sisters who had prayed so fervently for them. Shortly after returning to New Orleans, Jackson would visit the Ursulines. In a lecture read before the Louisiana Historical Society in 1901, Henry Renshaw described the scene:

In the period of the city's dread anxiety and peril, the Ursulines invoked Divine assistance that victory might be won by the soldiery of the Republic. Andrew Jackson, in the flush of brilliant triumph, visited the convent and thanked these pious women for their prayers for his success. What a scene was this — the victorious warrior expressing gratitude to these nuns for the petitions which they had offered for celestial aid in his behalf. What a subject to be represented in stone or in metal, or upon the painted canvas. 

And not alone by fervent supplication did the Ursulines evince their sympathetic patriotism. The sick and wounded soldiers were received at the convent and lodged in the class rooms of the day scholars where, for three months they were cared for by the nuns. ["The Louisiana Ursulines," Publications of the Louisiana Historical Society, Volume 2, Issues 3-4].

An even earlier historical record confirms the good offices of the Ursuline sisters:

The Ursuline nuns are also entitled to a particular notice. They gave admittance within the walls of their monastery to as many of the sick as could be conveniently lodged therein, and afforded them every aid, comformably to the dictates of true charity. [Historical Memoir of the War in West Florida and Louisiana (1816) Appendix, p. cxxviii]

Jackson also chose to express his gratitude publicly at the very center of Catholicism in the city:

In the old cathedral, burnished up for the occasion, a solemn service of thanksgiving was held at Jackson's request. [Crawford, Romantic Days in the Early Republic (1912) p. 383]

This was not merely a momentary episode of piety on the part of Jackson. Thirteen years later, during the bruising election campaign of 1828, Jackson would have occasion to visit New Orleans again. Though a man embroiled in the bare-knuckles brawl of a very contentious political battle for the nation's highest office, Jackson made time to visit the humble sisters who had prayed so fervently for him at the crisis of his life:

In 1824, the Ursulines removed to their present convent near the lower limits of the city. There, also, Andrew Jackson visited the nuns. This was in 1828. The political campaign which eventuated in his election to the presidency had opened. Jackson had come to New Orleans upon the invitation of the Louisiana legislature to participate in the thirteenth anniversary of the victory at Chalmette. He was accompanied to the convent by several of his staff and by some of the most distinguished men and women of the city. The convent’s cloistered precincts were opened to the renowned guest and to those who were with him. It may that among these surroundings the chieftains thoughts were diverted from the presidential contest, that the suggestions of ambition receded before the grateful reminiscence of the nuns who, thirteen years before, had prayed for victory to his battalions. ["The Louisiana Ursulines," Publications of the Louisiana Historical Society, Volume 2, Issues 3-4].

Here we find yet another example of how God Almighty uses very imperfect men as the instruments of His holy Will. 

Statue of Andrew Jackson in Jackson Square, New Orleans, with the Cathedral-Basilica of
Saint Louis in the background. I took this photo during a visit in 2016.

"The Holy Apostle Luke Painted this Image" ~ The traditional Lucan origin of the icon of the Hodegetria

15th century Greek representation of St. Luke painting the Hodegetria icon.

Today is the feast of Saint Luke, a father of the ancient Church renowned as Evangelist, Historian, and Physician. We should be aware of one additional title that is traditionally attributed to this early disciple of Christ: Artist. For the name of Saint Luke is attached to one of the most venerable works of art of the ancient Church—the Hodegetria icon which resided in Constantinople until its destruction in 1453. 

While the origins of the Hodegetria icon are shrouded in mystery, its connection to St. Luke is based upon traditions stretching back to the early centuries of Constantinople as a Christian capital. Among the most ancient sources to record this tradition is a manuscript known as the Anonymous Mercati, a document penned by an English pilgrim who journeyed to Constantinople in the 11th century AD. A translation of the key passage may be found in Pentcheva's work, Icons and Power: The Mother of God in Byzantium. Here is a snippet:

“In the part of the palace near the church of Hagia Sophia, very near to the great palace by the sea, is situated the monastery of the Mother of God, Theotokos. And in this monastery there is a holy icon of the Theotokos, called Hodegetria, which can be translated as “She Who Leads the Way.” … The holy apostle Luke painted this image of the Mother of God holding the Christ Child on her arm.” (Pentcheva, Icons and Power, page 126).

There is a further legend that explains how this icon of the Mother of God, presumably painted by St. Luke in Antioch (Luke’s presumed home town), Jerusalem, or some other city in the Levant, became associated with Constantinople. A late 14th century text known as the Logos Diegematikos holds that the icon was sent from the Levant by the empress Eudocia to her sister-in-law, Saint Pulcheria, in the mid-5th century AD:

“In fact, the empress Eudocia, upon receiving these holy and divine gifts [the Hodegetria icon and relics] from those holy monks like some much-valued treasure, sent them to the empress Pulcheria….Which gift, Pulcheria, as one could say, receiving it with great joy, deposited in the famous and holy sanctuary of the Theotokos and ordered the holy and sacred icon to be in the church as a protection of the palace, the entire city, and the whole world.” (Pentcheva, Icons and Power, page 128).

A previous post on this blog notes that Eudocia was indeed resident in both Antioch and Jerusalem for a time. Readers will also recall posts about Saint Pulcheria here and here, as well as a post demonstrating Pulcheria’s keen interest in bringing relics to Constantinople. Another post, citing a passage in the writings of St. John Damascene in the 8th century, indicates that Pulcheria and her consort, the emperor Marcian, had an interest in Marian relics and had specifically sought (though in vain) for the body of the Mother of God.

Pentcheva believes that the late recording of these acts make it likely that they are mere interpolations of medieval writers. An alternative viewpoint may be found in Grotowsky's The Hodegon: Considerations on the location of the Hodegetria sanctuary in Constantinople (Byzantina Symmeikta, Volume 27). This excellent work compiles and interprets the fragments of history on the Hodegetria that have come down to us. 

This story of St. Luke painting the famous icon has served as fodder for other artists down through the centuries. The version shown at the top of this post was painted by an unknown Greek artist, likely in the early 15th century shortly before the fall of Constantinople to the Turks. Below is a fanciful version, showing Our Lady and the Christ child actually sitting for their portraits, with both the artist and the subjects dressed in Renaissance garb and looking very Dutch.

Saint Luke Painting the Virgin, Derick Baegert, ca. 1470.

Next, we see an even more fanciful, proto-Baroque rendition of the same event as imagined by Florentine artist Giorgio Vasari, complete with Saint Luke’s symbol (the ox) and the heavenly Virgin attended by cherubs. 

Saint Luke Painting a Portrait of the Madonna, ca 1565

As recorded by the 15th century Greek historian Constantine Dukas, the original Hodegetria icon was destroyed by the Turks after the sack of Constantinople in AD 1453. As the story goes, four Turkish looters found it in the Chora monastery where it had been placed to protect the city during the siege. The Turks debated over which of them should possess it, and utilizing the wisdom of Solomon, decided to break it into four pieces. 

There are many likely spurious accounts, however, which maintain that the true icon was spirited out of Constantinople at some point during its long history, with several cities in Italy, including Venice, claiming ownership. The Poles also claim that the icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa is the original Hodegetria. For more on these claims, see, Wolff, "Footnote to an Incident of the Latin Occupation of Constantinople: The Church and the Icon of the Hodegetria" (Traditio, vol. 6 (1948), pp. 319-328).

Left: Image of the Madonna Nicopeia from Saint Mark’s Basilica, Venice. Right: Icon of
Our Lady of Czestochowa which is housed in Jasna Gora Monastery, Czestochowa, Poland.

"Ecce ancilla Domini" ~ Feast of the Annunciation from the Latin Vulgate

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Happy Solemnity of the Annunciation. This feast commemorating the visit of the angel Gabriel to the Blessed Virgin is celebrated on March 25—exactly nine months before the traditional date of Christmas on December 25. According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, the early history of this feast is as follows:

In the Latin Church this feast is first mentioned in the Sacramentarium of Pope Gelasius (d. 496), which we possess in a manuscript of the seventh century; it is also contained in the Sacramentarium of St. Gregory (d. 604), one manuscript of which dates back to the eighth century. Since these sacramentaries contain additions posterior to the time of Gelasius and Gregory, Duchesne (Origines du culte chrétien, 118, 261) ascribes the origin of this feast in Rome to the seventh century; Probst, however, (Sacramentarien, 264) thinks that it really belongs to the time of Pope Gelasius. The tenth Synod of Toledo (656), and Trullan Synod (692) speak of this feast as one universally celebrated in the Catholic Church.

Here is the account of the event from the Latin Vulgate Gospel of Saint Jerome, according to Saint Luke:

In mense autem sexto, missus est angelus Gabriel a Deo in civitatem Galilaeae, cui nomen Nazareth, ad virginem desponsatam viro, cui nomen erat Joseph, de domo David: et nomen virginis Maria. Et ingressus angelus ad eam dixit:

"Ave gratia plena: Dominus tecum: benedicta tu in mulieribus."

Quae cum audisset, turbata est in sermone ejus, et cogitabat qualis esset ista salutatio. Et ait angelus ei:

"Ne timeas, Maria: invenisti enim gratiam apud Deum. Ecce concipies in utero, et paries filium, et vocabis nomen ejus Jesum: hic erit magnus, et Filius Altissimi vocabitur, et dabit illi Dominus Deus sedem David patris ejus: et regnabit in domo Jacob in aeternum, et regni ejus non erit finis."

Dixit autem Maria ad angelum:

"Quomodo fiet istud, quoniam virum non cognosco?"

Et respondens angelus dixit ei:

"Spiritus Sanctus superveniet in te, et virtus Altissimi obumbrabit tibi. Ideoque et quod nascetur ex te sanctum, vocabitur Filius Dei. Et ecce Elisabeth cognata tua, et ipsa concepit filium in senectute sua: et hic mensis sextus est illi, quae vocatur sterilis: quia non erit impossibile apud Deum omne verbum."

Dixit autem Maria:

"Ecce ancilla Domini: fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum."

Et discessit ab illa angelus.

The English translation may be found here.

The image of the Annunciation shown above was painted by Simone Martini in AD 1333 in Siena.

"For even though her God-bearing body tasted death, it did not undergo corruption"

The Dormition of Mary, 13th century mosaic from Santa Maria
in Trastevere, Rome. Click here to share on Facebook.

August 15 is the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary, the mother of Jesus, into Heaven, body and soul. Though the Assumption was dogmatically defined in 1950 by Venerable Pope Pius XII in his apostolic constitution, Munificentissimus Deus, the traditional belief in the Assumption of Mary goes back to the earliest days of the Church. Originally, the feast was called the "Dormition" or falling asleep of Mary, and is still referred to as such by our Eastern Orthodox brethren.

Here are some passages from ancient sources that indicate that this belief existed from antiquity and was widespread. The first is taken from a homily preached by Theoteknos, Bishop of Livias in Palestine in the late 6th century AD:

"For Christ took His immaculate flesh from the immaculate flesh of Mary, and if He had prepared a place in heaven for the Apostles, how much more for His mother; if Enoch had been translated and Elijah had gone to heaven, how much more Mary, who like the moon in the midst of the stars shines forth and excels among the prophets and Apostles? For even though her God-bearing body tasted death, it did not undergo corruption, but was preserved incorrupt and undefiled and taken up into heaven with its pure and spotless soul."

Second, is a brief account in the Book of Miracles Book 1, Chapter 4, by Saint Gregory of Tours:

"The Lord took Mary's holy body and conveyed it on a cloud to Paradise; there it was united with her soul, and glorified with the elect, it enjoys the eternal blessings that shall have no end."

Third is a passage from Saint John Damascene, written in the 8th century AD, describing the history of the belief:

"St. Juvenal, Bishop of Jerusalem, at the Council of Chalcedon (AD 451), made known to the Emperor Marcian and Pulcheria, who wished to possess the body of the Mother of God, that Mary died in the presence of all the Apostles, but that her tomb, when opened, upon the request of St. Thomas, was found empty; wherefrom the Apostles concluded that the body was taken up to heaven."

This passage is especially interesting because Saint John seems to be quoting from a much earlier source: the late 5th century Euthymaic History, otherwise known as the Life of Saint Euthymius the Great. This story is the only known surviving fragment of this work. See Wortley, The Marian Relics at Constantinople for more information. (Note, this link downloads a PDF of this article.) 

Fourth, is a passage from Saint Germanus, Patriarch of Constantinople, written in the late 7th century AD:

"You are she who, as it is written, appears in beauty, and your virginal body is all holy, all chaste, entirely the dwelling place of God, so that it is henceforth completely exempt from dissolution into dust. Though still human, it is changed into the heavenly life of incorruptibility, truly living and glorious, undamaged and sharing in perfect life."

There is a wealth of additional literature on this topic for those who wish to dig deeper. Check out the following for further reading:

• Entry on the Assumption from the Catholic Encyclopedia (1911)
• Article on the Assumption of Mary on EWTN's website
• De Maria Nunquam Satis: The Significance of the Catholic Doctrines on the Blessed Virgin Mary for All People by Gentle and Fastiggi
• Ancient Traditions of the Virgin Mary's Dormition and Assumption, by Shoemaker